Page 83 of Beautifully Devoted

I’ve never had a panic attack before. Yet, as soon as it came on, I knew what was happening. I’m still not sure how I could have such a lucid thought while having zero control over my body, or why the panic didn’t extend to my brain. I only know that telling my body to snap out of it was futile. I could do little more than stand there and wait it out, like I was watching a free version of a movie that had commercials I couldn’t fast forward through.

Pulling the covers up to my chin, I burrow deeper into the mattress, as if it will help me hide from my pathetic actions.

Despite my near constant desire to feel in control, the reality is, I’m not. Not when it comes to my emotions. They swing wildly depending on the situation, and it’s only Cam’s calming influence that evens them out. I’ve gotten better over the years, or so I thought, but I still rely on him to keep from spiraling. Only today, when he was the one being threatened, I couldn’t stop the spiral.

I wouldn’t blame him if he wants to end things now. Less than twenty-four hours after making him proud by standing up to my dad I’ve reverted to the needy, pitiful kid who lives inside me. The one that’s desperate for approval and terrified to be alone.

For years, Cam has pacified that kid by doggedly standing next to me, propping me up so I could one day stand on my own. And now, I’ve proven how inept I am. He's probably second guessing what he signed up for by being my boyfriend.

It would serve me right if he left. Maybe then I’d finally learn how to take care of myself instead of forcing him to do it for me.

Snuggled in my little cocoon, I don’t realize Cam’s in the room until I hear the soft clatter of a plate being set on the nightstand. Then the mattress dips behind me. The covers shift and a strong arm falls over me, pulling me against his chest, and—as always—acting as my shield. But this time instead of simply holding me Cam nuzzles his nose in my hair and plants soft kisses on the back of my neck. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone so long.”

“Huh?”

He places another soft kiss on my neck. “You’re the loudest thinker on the planet, and I can tell you’re all up in your head about something. Spill.”

I want nothing more than to keep my shit bottled up, to not add any more to his plate, but silence will only make him more persistent. “I know I’m a massive burden. You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“My dad threatened you but you’re taking care of me. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. You should break up with me and find someone better.”

“Do you want me to break up with you?” Cam’s breath is warm against my ear. Soothing.

It makes me go with the selfish answer. “Fuck no.”

“Good. Because I’m not going to. Not now, not ever.”

“You want to date someone you have to constantly take care of?”

“I don’t constantly take care of you.”

“Yes, you do. You joined the football team because I wanted you to, not because you wanted to play. You’re at this school because of me. You do all my filming for me, you feed me, you go along with all my hair brained ideas, and you come with me wherever I go so I don’t have to be alone,” I rattle off a litany of the things he’s done for me over the years. “Taking care of me monopolizes your life and I’ve abused you long enough.”

The mattress shifts as Cam scoots far enough he can roll me to my back so I’m staring at the ceiling instead of the wall, which means I could see him if I let my eyes drift in his direction. He’s letting me choose whether I want to.

“Kitcat, you pay me to film your social media stuff. I feed us not you. And I like your hair brained ideas because they make life interesting. And as for following you to football and to this school, I did that because I need you just as much as you need me.” He kisses my forehead. “You monopolize my life because you’re the most important person in it. And you know that, so what’s this really about?”

My fingers crumple the comforter that’s resting just beneath my chin as I push the words out. “Yesterday you were proud of me for how I handled my dad, and today I’m a fucking basket case. It’s been ten years—ten years—and he can still get me to lose my shit. Aren’t you tired of having to put me back together after I fall apart?”

Cam brushes the back of his fingers over my cheek, a reassuring touch that still gives me the freedom to choose when I’m ready to look at him. “For the record, I don’t put you back together. I listen, I give advice or comfort, but I don’t have the power to put you back together. You do that yourself. And as for what happened yesterday, you’ve never been in a position to say or do anything about your dad for those ten years since he just up and left. Yesterday was the first time you’ve ever had that chance, and you took it. That’s what made me proud. But I’d never expect that one interaction to cure years of hurt, especially when he retaliated the way he did.”

Since I told myself something similar yesterday, I know Cam’s speaking the truth. I guess I just thought I’d have more time to feel good about how I handled things before my dad came at me again. More time to prepare, so I could be the guy who made Cam proud instead of the one who cowers in his bed and waits for his bes—boyfriend—to fix him.

“See, you just did it right now. Put me back together.”

“It wouldn’t have been that easy if you didn’t already know deep down that I’m right.”

Although I usually love how well Cam can read me, right now it’s sort of annoying. I give his bicep a tiny pinch and mutter, “Fucker.”

“Takes one to know one.”

“That’s the best comeback you’ve got?”

“Yeah, cause fucker was such a brilliant retort in the first place.” His snort almost resembles a chuckle.

“Fair. Cam?”

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