Page 67 of In You
"I want to go out."
"No."
"You don't ever do anything," she huffs, complaining. "You just stay here at home, andsit?"
Not usually.I give her a look and then snuff out my cigarette. "It's getting to be the wintertime, Tam. That's the time you fill the freezers and hunker down at home."
And when two mentally normal people fuck the winter away in front of the fireplace. But right now, I can't even imagine touching Tamryn. Right now, my heart longs for Camilla, but I don't know how to bring her to me in a way that's healthy and won't break her fragile spirit. I'm scared to push, because what if Cun….seven year old Tamrynshows up instead?
What if Nathan shows up and tries to kill me.
I can't risk that today. I need atleasttoday to process the shit from yesterday morning. Alexander's warning to put her in a psych ward echos around in my head, but I just can't. Even temporarily.
She folds her arms, and stares off at the trees beyond the porch. "I haven't seen anyone come to the house. Do you not have friends?" she asks in an accusatory voice.
Obviously seeing she's in a mood to pick a fight, I try not to let it bother me. I shrug a shoulder. "I have a couple."
"Then why haven't I seen them?"
I slide my eyes to her and force myself to take a deep breath. "My close friends live out of state. You missed Colin's visit by a day."
Her brow arches. "Family?"
That stings. "Why?"
"Because I want to know. So, family?"
"A dead half-sister," I half snarl, feeling perspiration coating my forehead despite the cold.
"Is that Camilla?"
I curl my lip. "No. Why?"
"Because her fucking name is on a sticky note on a pill pack in the kitchen and you say her name a lot.Even in your sleep."
I shake my head. "No. My sister's name is Flora."
She averts her eyes, looking like she wants to say something. She taps her fingers on her arms and then purses her lips. "Who's Camilla?"
I slide my eyes to her. I need to talk to her therapist to see if it's a good idea to speak about her other personalities with the other ones. I'm not sure how to answer that, so I say, "No one. That's an old note so I'll get rid of it. Sorry."
She rubs her arm, and it's then I wonder…she looksjealous.
"Why don't you have any pictures of your family anywhere?" she asks, giving me a slow, curious look. It almost feels judgmental.
I bristle. "Why are you asking me this?"
"Because I want to get to know that man who is telling me I gotta live with him for the rest of my life," she snaps, her eyes narrowing. "That's why. So, answer the question!" We stare at each other for long, uncomfortable seconds. "Or," she points out towards the trees, "fucking take my ass out there and shoot me in the goddamn head. Because I won't do this again, Caleb.I won't."
I recoil my head, reaching over for another cigarette and lighting it up. I've become quite the chain smoker since she's been around.
"My father died when I was five," I say, blowing a plume of smoke, gazing towards the tree-line and away from her prying eyes and fucked up attitude. "And I think it drove my mom crazy. She lost her mind."
That's so much easier than allowing myself to think about any of that too hard.
I turn my head to the side and see her watching me quietly, her posture more relaxed than it was just a few minutes ago when she first stomped out here. My chest tightens when her eyes soften, just a little but it does.
"So, you're kinda like me, huh?" she says in a sweet voice almost like Camilla's. "No father. No mother."
