Page 102 of My Sweetest Agony

“I was a different person back then, Ivy, and I’m not proud of what I did or what I said to him.” He rubs his palm across his stubbled cheek. “He probably believed it. Probably thought that he didn’t stand a chance against me because he always thought I had such an easier time than he did with women. That’s why he didn’t come clean with you. It’s why he cut me off. Not only because I did the unforgivable but because he would never risk losing you by telling you the truth.”

Fuck.

I squeeze my eyes closed and run my hands through my hair, dropping my forehead to the table.

Several minutes pass by with just the noises of the diner—clinking silverware and plates, laughter, voices, orders being called out—floating through the air.

Cam gives me time. He gives me space. He lets me process everything in my own way, even when I don’t doubt he has more to say.

When I finally lift my head again, he’s watching me cautiously. “Do you think he ever would have told me?”

He offers a shrug. “I don’t know.”

“After he died, I knew he had been lying to me about stuff.” I shake my head. “But this?” I release a little laugh that doesn’t hold any humor. “Never crossed my mind.”

“I don’t want you to keep questioning your life with him.” His voice cracks, and he swallows down the emotion. “I told you the other day he never would have cheated on you, and I mean it. The whole love-at-first-sight thing doesn’t happen very often, but it did for him.”

Cam looks at me with so much unbridled passion in his gaze that my breath hitches.

And me.

He doesn’t say those words, and if he did, I’m not sure what I would do with them right now, but they’re still there in the way the blue seems to ripple and heat the longer he stares at me.

“He never would have done anything to lose you, Ivy, even if that meant lying to you. You may not agree with it, you may be pissed at him for it, but he had a reason. And it was because he loved you from day fucking one.”

The vehemence in his statement helps shatter some of the anger I’ve let build up over what Drew kept from me. Because somehow, somewhere deep down, I do believe what Cam says.

I saw it in the way Drew looked at me, felt the way he touched me, experienced the way he made love to me, and just loved me every day.

I saw it.

I felt it.

But I also felt what I did with Cam that night—that electricity, that spark, that undeniable draw that allowed me to throw inhibition to the wind and let him do such decadent things to me right out in the open.

And that thing I felt is what convinced me that Drew was the right man for me.

Would that have even happened if Cam hadn’t been there?

If he hadn’t come along?

If he hadn’t touched me like that?

I suck in a long, slow breath and release it, trying to force myself off that path of thought, because if I go down it, I’m not sure how I would get back.

“Please, don’t ruin your memories of your life with Drew because of something stupid I did. Just don’t.”

“I’m trying really hard not to, Cam, but?—”

“I know.” He nods, sympathy wetting his gaze. “And I’m sorry for that. For ruining what you had with the truth. I never would have told you but…” He swallows hard, looking down at his coffee rather than at me. “But you deserved to know, especially after the other night.”

When we said goodbye to Drew…

And reawakened something that maybe should have stayed dead…

But even as I think that, my body buzzes with memories of the way he held me when we returned from the shore and let me cry, how he touched me and sent me flying because it was what I needed in that moment, even if it was wrong, the way he fell apart with me after and let down his guard.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?”