“Look, why don’t we watch a film, I’ll go to the shop and grab up some snacks, and then we can spend the rest of the day just vegging out?” I suggest. It’s all that comes to mind. I should probably go home and figure out the clusterfuck that has just become my life, but when Danny moves his head back and smiles at me before placing a kiss on my lips, I know that he needs me to just be here right now. And as much as I might have history with his dad, he doesn’t know that, and I can’t just stop caring about him.
“Sounds perfect,” he says.
Yeah, doesn’t it just? If only it were that simple.
ChapterFive
Caleb
Fuck.
Cameron. It was Cameron. My Cameron. No, not mine… but deep down, she is. She always has been. The one that got away—or rather, the one I pushed away.
Jesus Christ.
My hands fly to my hair as I pace alongside my car, which is parked on the street just along from my son’s apartment because there was nowhere else to park. There never is, it’s always a bloody nightmare, but parking is the least of my worries right now.
It’s been three years since I last saw her, and time has done nothing but make her more gorgeous, more curvaceous, more everything. Christ, how I schooled my face and acted like I didn’t know her in front of Danny, I have no idea. But then, he was too preoccupied being pissed off with me to notice anything else—no change there. He’s always pissed off with me, a product of his mother’s doing. She’s a real piece of work, always has been, but I can’t regret my moment of insanity with her, because she gave me Danny. Little does he know I spent the first two years of his life taking care of him, feeding him, making sure he had love and affection. His mother, Bliss, ran away from all responsibilities because, and I quote, “she was too fucking young to be tied down with a screaming baby.” Yeah. A real gem. I stepped up. I took charge, and then she came back, said something about a wake-up call, and even though I fought for him, she won. She fucking won, and over time, she turned him against me.
He doesn’t remember anything about me caring for him. He doesn’t know what I sacrificed to be there every step of the way, and that includes him knowing nothing about his mother fucking off for two years of his life. I gave up trying to broach the subject years ago, because in his eyes, his mother can do no wrong. He barely looks at me because she’s pumped her poison into him, fucking brainwashed him, and I have to fight for every second I get with him, which isn’t much at the best of times. But if he found out about me and Cameron… he would never speak to me again, or even tolerate me for all of five minutes.
Or I could be jumping to all sorts of conclusions before I even know the facts, of course.
They could just be friends. They could just be roommates for all I know. They could be fucking anything, but my gut is telling me different.
Of course they’re fucking, you dick, did you see her? Absolutely gorgeous.
I pull at my hair and will the image of her from my mind, but it’s no use, she’s in there, front and centre. It took me fucking months to stop thinking about her constantly. It took me even longer to muster up the energy to go on a date with anyone else—and even then, I don’t go on them often because they’re not her. And to this day, I still haven’t been able to think about anyone else when I’m jacking off in the shower.
She was it for me, and I made her leave.
And now she’s with my son.
My son.
Again, fuck.
And as if thinking about her wasn’t enough, I see her, on the other side of the road, walking along the pavement, her head down as she briskly walks to wherever she’s going.
I stay rooted to the spot, my mind at war with my heart.
Go to her. Talk to her.
No, don’t do that. Leave it alone. It’s in the past.
Don’t let this moment pass you by.
Do not walk over there.
But it seems my body is listening to my heart rather than my head as I wait behind my car like a damn creeper until she’s level with me before I cross the road and stand behind her. She’s still walking, unaware that I’m here until I say her name loudly.
“Cameron.”
She stops, freezing on the spot.
Shit. What should I do now? Talk? Run away? Rewind to three years ago where I wasn’t a massive dickhead who pushed her away? I’d like to do the rewind thing, but that’s impossible, so I guess the talking will have to do.
I take a few steps towards her, her back still to me, until I am within touching distance. My fingers itch to feel her skin, to see if that spark still remains, but I clench my fists at my sides to stop me from doing anything stupid.