Page 23 of Sunny Skies Ahead (Watford Sweethearts #2)

“No,” I said earnestly. “I just. . . I don’t advertise my sexuality, not because I’m not comfortable telling people, but because it’s my life. I’m comfortable with who I am and I don’t need to open myself up to unnecessary criticism or comments from people.”

“Understandable,” Kam said. “And if you told me because you’re worried that your sexuality might interfere with a romantic relationship, I promise you it won’t.”

I smiled then. Kam coughed awkwardly as he realized what he said.

“Not saying we’re entering a romantic relationship,” he corrected. “But if you wanted to, it’s a non-issue. I like you for who you are. That includes your past relationships and your sexuality.”

He really, really needed to stop saying things like that before I fell head over heels in love with no way to dig myself out.

“Since you shared something with me,” Kameron said after another bite of his dinner, “I’ll share something with you. I don’t want kids.”

I startled. “I don’t know why that surprises me.”

Kameron shrugged. “I think many people our age want to do the whole family thing, and I can honestly say that life has never appealed to me. I love my job, and the work that we do here. Bringing a child into this world is something sacred, and I know myself well enough to know that it’s not what I want.

People have told me I’ll change my mind, but I won’t.

I’m okay with the choice to be childfree. ”

“I’m the same,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “I decided kids wouldn’t be in the cards for me a long time ago. And I’m very much okay with the idea of being Auntie Im.”

Kameron chuckled. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re visiting Connor and Abbie’s little family?”

“I give it a year, tops. They’re not going to waste anymore time.”

“I hope so,” Kameron said with a wide smile.

“The childfree conversation leads me to my last point,” I said. I set my fork down and rubbed my sweaty hands along my thighs. “I’m not getting married again.”

Kameron paused. If any of the three things we’d already talked about would be deal breakers, it was this one. I told myself it would be okay, even as I waited for the rejection.

“I want to find love,” I murmured. “I hope I find someone I can share my life with in the way I deserve. But I can’t tie myself to someone in that way again. It’s not—it’s not something I can do again.”

Kameron’s eyes softened.

“That’s okay,” he said quietly, reaching for my hand.

“Honestly, marriage has always been a distant concept for me. Something I saw everyone around me doing, but something I couldn’t quit envision for myself.

For a long time that was because I’d convinced myself I’d never find someone who would love me unconditionally like that, but now. . .”

“Now?”

“Now there’s someone in my life who I care deeply about, who doesn’t want to get married,” Kameron murmured, his eyes never leaving mine. “And it feels right.”

I ducked my head, suddenly blinking back tears. There was something about Kameron’s demeanor that stripped away all pretenses. He saw me as more than the sum of my past.

My past. The last and final piece of this conversation that needed to be had before we could entertain the notion of a relationship.

“What if we took an after-dinner walk?” Kam said.

I met his eyes once more, searching his expression for any hint that his offer might not be genuine.

“That would be good.”

I had spent so much of today psyching myself up for this conversation. I’d drowned myself in prep work for Kam’s presentation, but in the quiet moments, I’d snuck glances at him, taking in how adorably his nose scrunched when he was deep in focus.

I loved Lucas and Abbie, but I was tired of only having two people in the world I could go to about my problems. More than that, Kameron and I had gotten closer over the summer.

Not just because of what happened at the docks or the living room, but because of all the nights we’d stayed up late talking.

And in all of those conversations, Kameron had given me so much of himself. From his frank conversations about his dad’s suicide, to how hopeless he’d felt about being able to help his mom, Kameron had never been anything but open and honest with me.

Guarded, yes, but never dishonest.

I wanted to tell him my story. Not because I felt like I owed to him, after everything he’d shared with me, but because I wanted us to finally be on the same page.

Because if I was going to abandon the promise I made to myself, I needed to be damn sure that Kameron wasn’t going to balk at my past. I needed to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he wanted this, too.

That he wanted me for all of me, bruised parts and all, the way I wanted him and everything he was.

Kameron extended a hand, and I took it gratefully, the cloth napkin across my lap cascading down to the floor as I stood to follow him out the front door.

As soon as we stepped into the cool spring night and I felt the mountain breeze tickle my skin, the ache in my chest eased.

“We always seem to end up here, don’t we?” Kameron smiled, gesturing towards the pasture. I let out a quiet laugh.

“I guess we do.”

I took a deep breath, wringing my hands together as we set off down the dirt path, slow and steady.

“I met Jacob Kilpatrick when I was thirteen years old.”

I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat after saying his full name out loud.

“It was our eighth-grade year. His family had recently moved to Watford, and we ran into each other in the lunch line. Literally. He collided with me. I told him to watch where he was going, and then scampered away before he had time to formulate a response. I didn’t talk to him again that year. And then we went to high school.”

I gritted my teeth against the onslaught of memories, using the rhythmic pace of our walk to keep my focus on the story itself, and not the emotions attached to it.

“We didn’t interact much our freshman year, beyond group projects and the occasional presentation.

We didn’t run in the same circles. I was the nerdy girl who always had her head stuck in a book, while Jacob was on track to become the first star quarterback in Watford history.

He wanted to go pro, and everyone in town was convinced he’d get there one day. ”

I inhaled deeply, allowing the cool evening air and the smell of fresh pines to fill my lungs.

Kameron was ever-present, unwavering, standing less than a foot away from me.

I looked towards the night sky, smiling faintly at the beauty of the twinkling stars above.

It was a stark contrast, the gorgeous navy of the night sky dotted with sparkling white, and the story I had yet to tell.

There’s light in the darkness, I reminded myself. One just has to remember to find it.

“Jacob did not go pro. He realized that he didn’t want to play football professionally.

He wanted to serve his country. He shipped out for boot camp right after graduation.

We’d been casually dating when he left—he was a year ahead of me in school, so I had just started my senior year when he graduated.

I wrote him letters while he was gone, was there waiting for him with open arms when he got back to Watford on leave .

“It’s all a bit ridiculous looking back.

When he asked me to go to the courthouse with him and marry him, I didn’t hesitate.

I loved him. Or maybe,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“Maybe I just saw him as the most viable option to get away from Watford. Away from my parents. Regardless of why I said yes, we were married at the courthouse, and I was off to Camp Pendleton as soon as I graduated from high school.”

I let out a long exhale, focusing my gaze on the stars above us.

“The first time Jacob Kilpatrick hit me was four months after our wedding day.”

Kameron inhaled sharply, but didn’t say a word. Abbie had been too shocked to say anything when I’d finally told her this part, but Kameron’s reaction felt different. Kameron, I knew, was willing to raise all matter of hell for the people he cared about.

I knew without a doubt that I was towards the top of his list.

“He had barely been in the Marine Corps for a year. I dropped a glass while cleaning up from dinner, and it made a loud sound in the sink. I guess it triggered him. He didn’t say a word to me that night. I didn’t get an explanation or an apology or even an acknowledgement.

“The day after, he went to work, kissed me on the cheek and told me he loved me. I spent most of my day questioning whether I’d made the whole thing up. Jacob always said I had a crazy streak, and I wondered if it was true.”

I chewed my thumbnail, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of me, knowing that I could speak freely to someone who wasn’t Abbie about what that moment had been like. So why did it also feel like there was a boulder on my chest, squeezing every last breath from my lungs?

“That was the first time, but there were many, many times after that. You’re not a stranger to domestic violence. You’ve probably worked with guys who were either the perpetrators or the victims of D.V., so I won’t bore you with the details. I’m sure you can imagine.”

Kameron had gone still as death beside me.

The only signs of life around us with the soft whisper of grass as the gentle breeze rustled them.

I pressed my fingers to my mouth, gathering the strength I had left to finish the rest of the story.

It was important for Kameron to know this—not because he wanted the full story, but because I wanted him to know.

I wanted him to understand every time I flinched when he appeared unexpectedly, the reason why I ran from him at the dock the day we kissed.