Page 14 of My Sweetest Agony

Wondering what made them that way when Drew’s were always so bright and filled with love for me and life.

After how awkward and tense our conversation was that night and the way it left me feeling so off-kilter, I had figured—and deep down hoped—Cam would go about his life and avoid me altogether.

Guess I was wrong.

“Ivy?” Marlo’s voice finally makes me shake my head and tug off my gloves, wiping my sweaty palms on my apron.

“I don’t know why he’s here. I haven’t seen him or heard from him since he left my house the other night.”

And part of me wishes he wasn’t approaching me now.

There are too many questions.

Too many things left unsaid, unexplained.

Given how he acted when he was sitting across from me, he doesn’t seem inclined to offer me anything but more turmoil and frustration. But I can’t exactly run and hide at this point, even if literally burying my head in the dirt in front of me doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Cam’s heavy steps stop behind me, and I can’t avoid him any longer—no matter how much I may want to.

I cautiously turn to face him and find only a few feet separating us.

He offers me a tight smile, his gaze wary as it sweeps over my face. “Hey…”

“Um, hi. What are you doing here?”

He scans all the flowers in the greenhouse, before returning his gaze to mine. “Flower shopping?”

The corners of my lips twitch up, despite my unease at seeing him again and how uncomfortable it seems to be for him, too.

What happened the other night was so damn awkward.

I wasn’t sure how to handle it—handle him—not with all the questions Drew created for me about him, or the ones Cam brought the second he walked through my door. Not to mention the way my heart and body seem to react to seeing him, seeing Drew in him, even when I know they’re two different people.

And with him standing in front of me in bright daylight, it seems even worse.

He really does look exactly like Drew…

If Drew had gone to prison instead of medical school.

As annoyed as I am with Marlo’s description, she isn’t exactly wrong.

Drew’s hair was always slicked back and perfectly in place, along with his ever-present, easygoing smile. But the man in front of me is disheveled. Thick, black locks falling across his forehead, his eyes still holding that haunting darkness they did when he sat across from me in my house the other night.

Even the daylight can’t fix that.

He locks that troubled gaze with mine. “I wanted to apologize for what happened…”

His eyes dart away, and he shifts his weight, clearly uncomfortable with this—maybe as much as I am. He seems to be struggling to find what he wants to say.

I swallow through a suddenly dry throat, trying not to let myself feel bad for him when there are so many reasons for me to be angry. “You’ve already done that.”

Cam nods and reaches back to rub at his neck with his left hand, making his bicep flex. Marlo makes a strangled sound behind me, and I glare at her over my shoulder as she continues to ogle him.

Either he doesn’t hear her or chooses to ignore the completely inappropriate noise.

“I wanted to. Again.” His deep voice wavers slightly with the emphasis he places on the word. “I realize what sort of a position that put you in, and”—he shakes his head, letting his arm fall—“it wasn’t fair to you, so, I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his tone melts away some of the unease I felt at his arrival, and some of that anger that heated me so thoroughly the other night. But the way he’s watching me now, the way his gaze seems to rake over every inch of me and see every minute detail, sends another type of warmth spreading through me.