Page 63 of A Sinner's Saint

Although, right now, I’m stuck with my mum. She is devastated and needs me more than Dad does. When I saw him yesterday, he looked overworked and stressed but he said he was fine. Thankfully, when I stopped by his office, he had a newmaleassistant. I don’t know what I would have done if the woman he cheated on my mum with was still there.

As I walk out of the student services building, I bump into a chest. Arms reach out to grab me to stop me from falling. “Cammi?”

A familiar voice full of shock has me looking up at Vin’s best friend.

“Dash.” I smile and take a step back. Holding the large envelope against my chest, like it’s going to protect me somehow. Wait… Do I need protection from Dash?

“You coming back to Melbourne?” he asks casually.

“Ah, yeah. My mum needs me here. So here I am.” I have no idea what I’m supposed to say to him.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you around then, I guess. Welcome back, Cammi.” He smiles and steps towards the building.

“Dash?” I call out to him, and he turns to face me.

“Yeah?”

“How is he?” I ask, already regretting the question. I don’t care how he is. I don’t want to see him, and I certainly do not want to get caught up in the trap that is Vin De Bellis.

Dash appears to think over the question. “He’s…okay. Although I have a feeling he’s about to be a lot happier real soon.” He winks and then turns before pushing through the door.

He’s okay. Well, I’m glad he’s doing okay. Not that I didn’t think he would be. After all, he’s the one that ended our… friendship, relationship, whatever it was. He ended it, not me. So why wouldn’t he be okay?

I wish I didn’t ask Dash. If only I could turn back time, I’d act like I didn’t care one way or the other how the hell Vin De Bellis was doing. Because I can’t. And the more I remind myself that I don’t care, the more there’s a chance I might actually talk it into being. Like manifesting, I think. If you say it enough, it happens, right?

I park my mum’s car in the driveway before grabbing the grocery bags from the boot. And why am I driving my mum’s car? Because I returned the fancy-as-shit G-Wagon Vin bought me. About a month after France. I had it shipped from my house tohis. I even left a letter in the glove box, hoping he’d read it and call me.

When I walk through the door, I find my mum on the sofa. “Hey, I’m cooking dinner,” I tell her.

“You’re cooking dinner?” Mum asks. “Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” She follows me into the kitchen.

“Haha, funny. I cook,” I tell her as I set the fresh veggies on the benchtop.

“What are you cooking?” Mum peers into the grocery bags.

“Chicken stir-fry. It’s Aunt Stacey’s recipe,” I say.

“Actually, it’s my recipe. Aunt Stacey stole it from me and claims it’s hers,” Mum corrects me.

“I’ve lived with you my whole life. I’ve never seen you make this.” I pull a cutting board out of the cupboard.

“That’s because your dad didn’t like it.” Mum gets a sad look on her face. She didn’t cook something just because my dad didn’t like it?

I remember how Vin used to take me out for sushi because he knew I loved it. He’d never order anything, but he was happy to just sit there and let me enjoy one of my favourite foods.

“You’re doing it again.” Mum points at me.

“Doing what?” I turn on the tap and bring the veggies closer to the sink so I can wash them.

“You’re thinking about him. Whoever that boy is. You get this faraway look on your face. When are you going to tell me about him?” she asks.

“I did tell you about him. He was there and then he wasn’t. The end.” There really isn’t anything else to say.

“That’s not information, Camile. What’s his name? He clearly left an impact on you if he still takes up space in your head,” Mum presses.

If only she knew how much space in my head and heart Vin takes up…

“It’s not important.He’snot important. He’s not anything anymore.” I shrug.

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