“I love you so fucking much,” he says, and then I see a tear fall from his eye and kiss him as I orgasm. I know what he was trying to say. He loves me so much that he knows he has to let me go. I know it too.
He grunts against my skin as he comes inside of me, and I tell him, “I love you too, so much.” But sometimes, love isn’t enough. We know that now.
And when he holds me one last time, I wait for him to fall asleep before I move out of the bed and get dressed, grabbing a couple of things to take with me for the time being. I can get the rest at a later date, or just ask Marcie if she wouldn’t mind getting it, because I really don’t think I can come back here ever again. And I know that if I do, then Caleb will have a painful choice to make all over again. It’s easier this way. I leave and he can help his son to recover from the darkness he’s found himself in. He can’t do that with me here, because I can never be around his son again, and it would be unfair of me to make him choose. So this is me choosing.
It's better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all.
Maybe one day I’ll see the truth in that statement. One day when it doesn’t hurt as much. Maybe.
Too much and not enough, I guess we’re just never destined to get there.
ChapterForty-Three
Cameron
I’ve spent the last week wallowing.
I haven’t heard from Caleb.
I haven’t spoken to anyone except Gran, and the police briefly, but even then it was too much and Gran had to take the reins because I can’t do anything.
A week ago, I was happy, in love, and looking to a bright future. A week later, I’m miserable, hating myself for giving up, and my future looks bleak.
Marcie tried to talk to me the day after the attack, but I just sat there like a mute, unable to form any words. Gran has tried to be there for me, and I hate to worry her, but I just can’t seem to stop the darkness I’m living in. I can’t crawl out. I can’t see an end to it.
I thought I had experienced pain before, but that was a piece of cake compared to this soul-destroying virus that lives inside of me. And ultimately, I’m the fucking virus, and until I’m ready to expel it, it’s not going anywhere.
I’m not ready, not by a long shot.
So, this is how I plan to spend my foreseeable future. In my room. Minimal sleep. Minimal anything. I’ve got no fight left in me.
I’m a broken mess with no way of putting myself back together again.
I feel nothing but hurt consuming me from the inside out.
If this is rock bottom, then I’ve hit it. And it’s truly like I’m living in hell.
* * *
“Come on, child, that’s enough now,” Gran says as she comes into my room and opens the curtains, letting the daylight in as I squint my eyes and pull the covers up a little bit more. “You’ve been up here for the best part of two weeks, and now it’s time to get up and start living again. That and I need a few bits from the supermarket, and my hip is playing me up something chronic.”
“I can’t go out, Gran,” I say pitifully, my voice hoarse.
“You most certainly can.” I take a peek at her to see her stood at the end of my bed with her hands on her hips. “Now I have done everything you have needed me to, and now I need you to go to the shop and get me my bran.”
That fucking bran.
The memories assault me from her words alone, and I try to argue with her that I can’t go to get the sodding cereal she deems to be the best breakfast in the world, but she’s having none of it. She’s done with my moping about. Reluctantly, I get out of the bed as Gran shoos me into the shower. And when I get out, she’s faffing in my room, stripping the bed and fluffing the pillows. “Goodness me, child, this place is going to need a deep clean.” I mean, that’s a little dramatic, but I’m on autopilot as I get dressed and dry my hair, all the while Gran keeping busy in the background.
“And I want you to walk to the shop, I only need the bran and the fresh air will do you good.”
“I don’t want to walk, Gran,” I whine. Just the thought exhausts me.
“Well, good luck finding your car keys, child,” she says in that innocent but amusing way of hers. Damn her for being so on top of everything.
With a sigh, I leave my room and go put on my shoes. I’ve left my hair down and loose and I’m wearing a leggings and off-the-shoulder jumper combo, which I pair with my trainers. I see no sense in getting dressed up just for a trip to get some bran. I pick up my sunglasses off the side and put them on, deeming them a necessity in case any fucker feels the need to make polite chit chat with me on the way. Sunglasses are the deterrent, because I can pretend I haven’t bloody seen them if they do try and engage with me.
“Anything else you need?” I ask as I shout up the stairs to her.