Page 25 of One Night Redemption

“Let’s go out for breakfast. Might as well give the good folks of Bellehaven a show while we’re at it,” I say, pointing to my forehead. “And I don’t need to see your phone. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have let you in.”

“To your house? You’ve got a shitty lock. Remind me and I’ll fix it for you.”

I shake my head. “No, Cam. Not my house.”

Forty-five minutes later, we’re sitting in a cracked vinyl booth at the Cat Country Cafe. The whole place is decked out in Kentucky blue, as is to be expected. We do love our sports in this state. Well, basketball. Most of the time, barring a few exceptional years, we pretend football doesn’t exist.

Our waitress is eyeing me sympathetically while alternately giving Cam dirty looks. “The special is a Monte Cristo. But the pancake platter is always a good bet,” the waitress says.

I feel bad for Cam. I didn’t realize when I suggested we got out for breakfast that most people would assume the bruises were his handiwork. “I’ll have the pancakes. He’ll have the Monte Cristo. That way I can steal a bite.”

She jots it down, then looks at me with concern. “You okay, honey? Tell me the truth now. I don’t care how big he is, I can take him if need be.”

“I’m fine,” I reply. “He didn’t do it. I had to tangle with the psycho sister of my former fiancé.”

The waitress, Doris—according to her name tag—shakes her head. “Had me one of those back in the day. Got rid of her when I ditched the husband.” She jerks her thumb in Cam’s direction, “He ever thinks to repeat that, you let me know.”

“Jesus,” Cam says under his breath as she saunters away. “If she’s got a barbecue pit we’re leaving. I’m not about to be the Frank to your all’s Idgie and Ruth.”

“I promise to never let anyone barbecue you on my behalf. Now, whether or not you disappear mysteriously, one day? That’s up to you, Camden Wilder Fellows.”

He looks at me in surprise. “How do you know my middle name?”

“Umm, seventh grade English with Mrs. Crabtree who insisted on using everyone’s full name to call roll.”

He glances down at his coffee cup. “I don’t remember yours. And I feel like an ass for that.”

“It’s Elizabeth. Cassandra Elizabeth. And why would you remember? I paid attention then to every little detail about you—the way you talked, the way you moved, what girl you were holding hands with at any given time in the hallway. But you didn’t have those feelings for me then. And that’s okay. We can’t rewrite our history to suit who we are today … what we are to one another today.”

“I wish I could,” he says softly. “I wish I could get back all the time I wasted.”

“You didn’t waste it, Cam. That time you spent figuring it out, finding out who you are and what you want? That’s what makes it work between us now. Sometimes we can’t have what we want because we’re not ready for it.”

“Are we ready now?”

I shrug, then wince. Goddamn Jenna. “That’s not a question I can answer. I know where I stand. But I’m not rushing you. I’m not asking for more than you’re willing to give. I’m content with things the way they are now.” The ‘for now’ is implied. I don’t believe in ultimatums. They’re just manipulation and I’m not that girl. But I also don’t believe in infinite patience. Some day, and I don’t know when that is, Cam’s gonna have to decide if we’re forever or if we’re done.

“I just need a little time, Cass. Not to be sure of you … I need some time to be sure of myself.”

“Then take it,” I tell him. “And when it gets to be too much, I’ll let you know.”

It’s almost noon when Cam drops me back off at home. He’s going into the station to finish up some paperwork from the shit that went down last night. Apparently, Dixie Plaza was a very happening place.

Impulsively, I pick up my phone and call Ashley. She picks up on the second ring. “You throw one hell of a party.”

She laughs. “Apparently so do you. Sell tickets for that shit next time. We could go on a tropical vacation.”

“Let’s hope there won’t be a next time,” I say. “I’m not sure I can take it.”

“Cam was very worried about you,” she says, suddenly serious. “Now for the real question … do we need to worry about you, Cass?”

“No. I’m good.” And I am. Strangely enough, I really am. I love him. And if it doesn’t work, it’s gonna hurt like hell. But I will know that I gave it everything I had. Everything that he was ready to accept.

“Seriously?”

I love that my friends care enough to worry about me, but sometimes that shit is exhausting. “Yes, Mama Bear. Seriously. What we have right now is working for both of us. And when it doesn’t work anymore, we’ll either renegotiate or part ways … and I’m okay with that. I’ve had more with him than I ever thought I would, you know?”

“I do know. I kind of ran my big mouth last night. I didn’t mean to, but I was so shaken up and I think I might have said more about how you feel for Cam than you’d want me to. Please don’t kick my ass for it.”

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