Page 25 of Lock 'em Down

Seven

Cami

“This is the last bag,” I tell Mom as I carry a massive shopping bag in from the trunk of my new car. Well, a used car—it’s a used, white Honda Civic—but it’s new to me. Dad and Rhett talked at length about the best car I can buy within my budget and when the Civic—or Civiche as I’ve taken to calling her—became available, they negotiated a fair price. All Mom and I had to do was pick her up after we landed in Knoxville three days ago.

Since then, we met the landlord of the apartment I rented, gave it a deep clean, and have been shopping for home goods and decor. Now, we’re nearing the finish line and I must admit, my apartment has come together beautifully. Simple, but lovely.

My phone buzzes in my pocket and I glance at the screen.

Tennessee: How long are you going to avoid me?

Tennessee: We at least need to talk, Cam. Didn’t take you for a coward.

Ouch! That stings but…it’s a fair accusation. My palms break out in a sweat, and I drag them over my cut-off shorts. The thick watch strap I’ve been wearing to cover up my new ink catches on the pocket of my shorts. It’s been a constant reminder of that night with Leif.

I’ve been ignoring him and his messages for the past week, since I left Vegas and tried to unsuccessfully push my graduation celebration—my fucking wedding—from my mind.

It’s too reminiscent of the time I spent with Levi. And yet, it’s entirely different.

The conversation Leif and I had walking around Vegas was meaningful. There was a depth I never shared with Levi and that alone scares me. I don’t know if I can trust it.

Am I being naïve? Am I being carefree and impetuous Cami?

Or can I lean into my attraction for Leif and explore it further? Sure, marrying him was a mistake but I can’t deny enjoying the time we spent together.

I sigh. Either way, he’s right. I can’t avoid him forever.

I also don’t want to confront him with Mom here. That will make everything infinitely worse. No, when I speak with Leif, it needs to be just the two of us.

I can’t deal with Mom’s hysterics as she relives the nightmare that followed my time in Spain. The naked photos Levi took of me with drugs in the background. The toxicology reports that confirmed I had drugs in my system. The lawyers that needed to be hired to obtain the photos that could ruin my life before it even began.

The advice she doled out and I ignored. Again.

Take your time. Use your head. Be cautious.

Marriage in the middle of the night to a stranger in Vegas is the opposite of all her advice combined.

“Are you sure you want a green couch?” Mom asks for the third time, wrinkling her nose.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and sigh.

I should clarify—my apartment is lovely to me. “Mom, it’s sage. It’s soft and calming and—yes, I like it.”

“Well, it’s your apartment,” she agrees in defeat.

I hold back my comment. As much as I appreciate Mom’s help, three days locked in an apartment with her is starting to grate on my nerves. It’s the commentary that scrapes at me.

I dig through the final shopping bag and pull out towels and linens that I drop right into the washing machine. Then, I stand in the center of the small living room and spin.

The apartment has stark white walls but with a cream rug, light oak furniture I scored from Ikea, the sage green couch I thrifted, and framed photos on the walls that Mom and I had to watch a YouTube tutorial to hang, I love it. “It’s perfect.”

Mom sighs again but this time it’s less judgy. She wraps an arm around my waist, and I drop my head to her shoulder.

“We did it,” I tell her.

She gives me a little squeeze. “We sure did. I’m proud of you, Cami.”

I turn to look at her.

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