Page 27

Chapter Twenty-Six

Cameron

My night doesn’t quite go as planned. I do fall asleep, but I wake up an hour later, tossing and turning and feeling way too awake for the lack of sleep I got. My phone lights up on the end table, and I grab it—which is my first mistake. I should leave it alone and force myself back to sleep.

The notification is an email, so I go through them since I haven’t most of the day and I don’t need them piling up. There’s already over fifty. A good number of them are spam, but a few are from my agent with possible jobs. I won’t go through them right now because I don’t want to deal with work.

I love my “job,” but sometimes it’s a lot. All I am to these people is a piece of meat who looks good in a suit or sweatpants or underwear. No one cares about me and who I am, and that was fine for a long time. But something about seeing Austen has me all fucked up. It’s exactly why I shouldn’t have come here. I knew seeing him was a possibility—a very high possibility. And if I’m being honest with myself, maybe I did that on purpose.

I suddenly feel bad for being so mean to him. What happened between us was seven years ago. We were young and stupid. I messed up that night, too. Though what he did was worse, I’m not innocent in the matter. I knew we were both drunk and knew it was wrong. But I did it anyway because I was being selfish. He was right about that. But this has never really been about just that. It’s the way he blamed me for it and refused to take any accountability. It’s the way he made it seem like I was a predator and took advantage of him when I would never do that to him or someone else.

Opening my contacts, I stare at the one right on top.

Austen Brewer.

He’s always been there, right in the number one spot. I should make friends with people who have A names to knock him out of there so I wouldn’t have to see it.

There have been times over the years when I’ve considered texting him, just to see how he is. Times when I really missed him and wanted to give in. But the more I held out, the easier it was to ignore. But now that I’m here and he’s not far away, and we saw each other and he wants to apologize… it’s making it all a little too hard.

Making it all seem like maybe my anger isn’t only about what he did, but more about what I lost that night. What I fucked up, too. We both made a mistake.

Maybe if I allow him to give his side of the story, if I hear him out, let him say his piece, I can move on from this. Let it go. Forget about all of it. Things will never go back to how they were, but I don’t want to keep harboring this anger over something that happened so long ago. Before I know it, I’m going to be a bitter old man who hates the world and everything in it just because I can’t find it in me to forgive someone who used to be my best friend.

It’s late, but not super late. I don’t know what kind of stuff he gets up to nowadays, but I’ll take the chance and text him, anyway. So I do. I send him a simple hey. And his response comes back pretty quickly.

Now for the hard part. What do I say? I guess being honest is the way to go. If I want to get this off my chest, I need to be honest and stop lying to myself.

I’m sorry for being so mean earlier.

I hit send and stare at my phone. The little bubbles dance, telling me he’s typing. Then they stop and start. I don’t put my phone down, because the way he answers will be pivotal and I can’t look away. If he comes at me with anger, it’ll be the end of that. I am not going to force him to be nice or accept me being nice. I’m giving him an olive branch here, and if he doesn’t want to take it, then that’s his problem, not mine.

I understand why you were.

Okay, not what I was expecting him to say. It’s not much to go by. I could leave it at that, put my phone back to charge and force myself to sleep, but… it’s just not enough.

I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.

Can’t sleep.

Same issue over here.

Savannah is out of town.

My stomach does a little flip, which I hate. I hate even more that my mind instantly thinks he’s telling me that as an invitation. He wants me to know he’s alone, in his house, with his wife probably on the other side of the country or maybe even the world. I’m not entirely sure what she does, but I know she’s in the same circle as me, just not on the modeling end of it. I’ve seen her name here and there but thankfully never ran into her. I don’t care what happens with Austen and I; I still can’t stand her, and I will never think she’s right for him—or even a nice person.

I’m going home tomorrow.

His response doesn’t come right away, and as I stare at my words, I wonder why I said them at all. Why am I telling him that? Does he know where home is for me? How much does he know about my life?

It’s not difficult to find, considering I’m a public figure nowadays. But I won’t act like Austen is obsessed with me and has been following me for the last seven years… it’s possible he forgot all about me the moment I left. Doubtful, considering the way he’s acting, but he sure had no problem moving on with his life.

Have a safe flight.

My chest tightens, and that really angers me. I guess I was hoping for something else. Something… I don’t know.

Thank you for allowing me to apologize. It helped.

Did it?

I send it before I can think better of it.

Honestly?

Yes, honestly, Austen.

I type quickly, furiously. He’s so hot and cold, close and so distant. Sort of reminds me of the good old days, when he was one way with me but then another way with everyone else.

Do I really even know who he is?

No, it didn’t. I still feel like shit.

Good. You should.

I sigh after I send that, and quickly send another.

I’m sorry.

I’m just… so angry about this whole thing.

I understand.

I think I need some time to cool off. Maybe we can talk in a few days?

I’d like that. Honestly.

I’ll text you…

Looking forward to it.

Good night, Cam.

Night, Austen.

I can’t say that I feel better , but I guess I feel a little relief. Maybe it’s possible things between us can be okay. At least, okay enough that I won’t be angry for the rest of my life. I can make peace with what happened between us, maybe even be happy for him that he has the life he wanted. I mean, if he and Savannah have stayed married this long, I doubt anything will break them apart. Maybe he really does have a good life. Maybe she’s grown up and matured. Maybe she does treat him the way he deserves. Or maybe Austen is exactly the same way he always was, and is still living his life for other people. What I need to remember is it isn’t my problem, nor is it my business. I have my own life to worry about.

I put my phone down and it takes hours to fall back asleep. But at least when I wake up, it’s just time to leave for the airport.