Page 56 of Stray for You

“But why?” he pleads.

“Because… Damn it, Julian. Because… Because you hurt her,and I can’t let someone who’s hurt her anywhere near her. I don’t want to tell her what we’re doing because it feels like a betrayal, okay? It feels like stabbing her in the back.”

Confusion knots his eyebrows. He’s still gripping my hands.

“I would never hurt your mother, Cam. Never,” he says.

“Not now, but back then…”

The confusion only thickens, and I take a breath before attempting to explain.

“Back when our moms were dating,” I say, “there was that one time when they wanted us all to have dinner together. We were kind of at each other’s throats back then, but we got through dinner. Then … then you followed me to my room. When they found us, you had your hand on my thigh, and you were leaning in like you were about to kiss me.”

Understanding opens his expression. “That’s what this is about? But…”

“They stayed together for a while, but I saw the look in Mom’s eyes that night,” I cut in. “I know my mother. If she thought there was something between us, she’d sacrifice her happiness for mine. So … so I hated you for that. I hated you for their breakup. Dating your mom was the first time mine seemed happy since Dad abandoned us, and she lost that because of some stupid flirting that wasn’t going to go anywhere.”

He stares at me in mute horror.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know it’s unfair, but I … I’ve always felt guilty about it. If I told Mom that we were dating, maybe she’d think she made the right choice back then. I don’t want that for her. She deserved happiness, and we took it away from her. How could I tell her that she was right?”

“That was so long ago. We were kids,” Julian says. “Everyone has moved on, Cameron.”

“Maybe I haven’t. Not completely. Every time I look at you I think about it. Every time we talk about the future, I think abouthow she’ll react. I … I just can’t right now, Julian. I’m sorry. Maybe some day, but for now … you appeared in my life again out of nowhere, and I don’t know what to do with this. I don’t know what to do with our pasts. I don’t know what to tell Mom. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to feel … completely safe around you. What if we broke up and it was all for nothing? Again. What if it dredges up a past my mother moved three thousand miles to forget?”

“I think she should get to make that decision, Cam,” Julian says. “You can’t make it for her.”

“I don’t know,” I say, voice dropping to a whisper, eyes dropping to the sheets.

Silence wedges itself between us. Julian lets go of my hand.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Julian

THAT CAN’T BE IT. That cannot be what’s behind all this.

I sit up in the bed, heedless of the sheets falling to my hips and the chill against my bare skin. All of these years, all of this resentment — it can’t stem from one stupid, simple moment in Cameron’s bedroom years ago. I was only half-serious. Sure, I leaned in to kiss him, but it was nothing. It was silly nonsense. Has Cameron seriously held onto that moment all this time? How can he believe that that is why our mothers broke up? It had nothing to do with us. They were adults. Sure, they wanted us to get along, but we could not have possibly precipitated their breakup with a silly, meaningless moment of harmless flirtation.

Cameron sits up beside me. “Are you okay?”

For once, I’m speechless. I flounder for words, but my lips flap uselessly before I manage to find them.

In the end, all I manage is, “You really think…”

“I don’t know,” Cameron says. “I can’t ever know for sure. But you asked why I hesitate around you, and that’s the reason. I can’t forget about it. I can’t help wondering.”

I chance a look at him. “Have you ever asked your mom if we had anything to do with the breakup?”

Cameron shifts beside me. “Well, no, but…”

Christ, he hasn’t even asked her. He doesn’t even know. He’s simply held on to this assumption, and his anger around it, for so long that it’s become settled fact for him. And it might wellruin the best thing either us ever have.

“Would you ask her?” I try.

The skin around his eyes tightens in a flinch.

“I don’t know,” he says, but what I hear is “no.” “What if it’s painful for her?” he continues. “I don’t want to bring it up if she doesn’t want to think about it.”

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