Page 66 of What He Doesn't Know

“Makes you think of easier times, huh? Simpler days.”

“When the only thing that mattered was whether my Barbie dolls had enough shoes.”

“And what shirt to wear to Drew Castelberry’s party.”

I snorted. “You and Graham both always took forever to get dressed for parties. I remember Mallory and I making fun of you.”

“You were, like, eleven when I started going to parties,” Reese argued. “You didn’t understand the importance of spin the bottle yet.”

“In my defense, I still didn’t at sixteen.”

At that, Reese leaned up to take a drink of his wine, all the while shaking his head. “That literally makes no sense to me. I thought Graham would be kicking every guy’s ass in that high school trying to keep them off you.”

“You’re joking, right?” I rolled over to face him as he laid back down. “Do you not remember? Pig tails, glasses, fresh out of braces, nose always stuck in a book. Not exactly girlfriend material.”

Reese leaned up on one elbow to mirror me, his eyes low and glossy as they found mine. “Trust me, I remember.”

He said the words slowly and purposefully, like there was a hidden message underneath them meant for me to decipher. And suddenly, the energy in the fort changed. It was too warm. He was too close.

He was too familiar.

I pulled my hair from my neck, letting it fall behind my shoulders. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just looking at you.”

“No one else looks at me that way.”

He swallowed, but his gaze didn’t waver. His eyes flashed between mine, and when they fell to my lips, he ripped them away so fast I thought I imagined it.

“I’m sorry about your anniversary.”

A sickening wave rolled through me, and I shook my head. “It’s fine. It’s my fault, you know… I’m the reason he’s like this now.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, forgetful. Apathetic. He didn’t used to be like this.” I leaned up to finish off my wine, settling back down with my eyes on the sheets above us. I don’t think I realized I felt that way about Cameron until the second the words left my mouth. “He used to be romantic, and caring. He loved mesomuch, more than I loved him, I think. He was perfect.”

“No one is perfect.”

“He was.”

“And now it’s your fault he’s not anymore?” Reese asked.

I shrugged. “I failed him. I couldn’t carry our babies into a healthy birth, couldn’t give our children the strength to make it to life. Something changed after we lost them.” My chin quivered, but I blew out a breath to stop more tears from coming. “Something changed in both of us.”

“Charlie…” Reese breathed my name like the truth I’d given him in my words was poison to his system. “You can’t really believe that. It’s not your fault, what happened.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, blinking my eyes several times to clear the blur. “New topic. I don’t want to talk about this.”

He watched me for a long moment, and I glanced at him briefly before reiterating.

“Please. New topic.”

“New topic?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. Do you ever think about me?”