"That's great. I'm looking forward to seeing it once they get started."
"I'll call you on Monday, and you can come and check it out if you'd like."
"Yeah, that sounds great." He has everything packed up; now, the only thing left for him to do is go. I don't want him to leave. I want to stay in his presence for as long as possible. But I know it's not wise for him to stay. There's no reason for it.
By the way he's lingering, I don't think he wants to leave either. There are so many things left unsaid between us. So many questions that I need answers to.
I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. "Can I ask you something?" he asks with a sigh but doesn't wait for me to respond before he begins speaking. "You and Karina… you two are friends? Why?"
I sit up straight and put a cushion of space between us, turning slightly to face him. He mirrors me, both of us facing each other. "We met at a support group for grieving parents. My therapist recommended it. I didn't know who she was when I met her, and she just clung to me. We started to become friends before I knew she was your wife."
"And now? Are you two still friends?"
"Honestly, Dean, it's a little weird."
"Weird, how?"
"Well, she's your wife. You. Yours." I point at him to punctuate my point. He leans forward and places his elbows on his knees, letting his head fall into his hands.
"Yeah, I get your point. I wouldn't want to be friends with yourhusbandeither," he spits, pure venom in his tone at the mention of my husband.
"Why didn't you come back for me?" I whisper the question that has been lingering in my mind for eleven years. I regret asking as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I need to know. I need closure.
Dean drops his arms and raises his head to pin me in place with just one look. I can see the sorrow in his eyes for a split second before it becomes a look I don't recognize.
"I did." His eyes shrink into an aggressive glare.
Damn! If looks could kill.
Like the confident brat I'm feeling, I hold up my left hand and look down at my wedding ring. "No, Dean. You didn't." I wave it in his face and point toward his own silver wedding band.
"Yes, Camille, I did. I tracked you all the way to New York, and I even saw you once. You were wearing a pink sundress and had a baby in your arms and a ring on your finger. I was too late for you."
My heart drops, and my breathing stops. He came back for me… but it was too late. I had Luca and was married, which means he came back six years after he left.
Six years too late.
I'm not sure how long we sit in silence staring at each other, but I'm the one that finally breaks our silence and staring contest.
"Six years. You came back six years later? After radio silence all that time?" I stand, balling my hands in fists at my sides.
He narrows his eyes at me. "That was our deal. I told you when you graduated from school that I'd come for you because that gave me time to start a design firm and start preparing for our life together. And that's exactly what I did. I'd already met Karina, but I wanted you,” he states sternly, standing to his feet.
He's acting so casual about his revelation while I'm struggling to breathe and process this new information.
Dean came back for me. He followed our plan.
"What did you do after you saw me?"
"It doesn't matter what I did. You had moved on, so I left."
"Dean, what did you do?"
"I went back to London to be with Karina!" It would've hurt less if he'd slapped me in the face. "I waited for you! I followed our plan!" My lips turn down in a frown.
"I got pregnant, Dean. It was unplanned and unexpected. But how the fuck was I supposed to know that you were across the fucking world waiting for me?" I yell, placing my hands on my hips. I'm so angry that I'm sure there will be steam coming out of my ears soon.
"We had a plan, Cam. I waited for you because we made a fucking plan."