Page 37 of Second Quarter Comeback
“This is my life,” I snap, my voice rough. “Which is why I’m calling you. Why did you stop me from proposing to her? She could’ve moved with me to New York. I had the money. Not only to get us a nice place, but to pay for her education if that was needed.”
His tone shifts, steady but firm. “I told you. You two were too young. She was only eighteen. You didn’t have the right to uproot her life, Killion. She had a plan. And I bet she would’ve said yes. What I said was something along the lines of, ‘Are you so selfish that you’ll make her change her entire life for you?’”
Yes, he did, and the fact that he called me selfish just added to what Mr. Ashby had told me a couple of days before Pops did. “Leave my daughter alone or I’lluse everything I have to not only drown your career but create a media nightmare for your fathers.”
Not having the support of my parents and knowing that pushing for this would create a nightmare for my fathers was . . . well, the reason I had to walk away from her. I couldn’t do it to them. Me and my career . . . it was scary to think what he could do to it, but my parents? That’s something no one fucks with. If this man were to threaten me right now, I would show him what the name Crawford can do. Back then I was just a kid though. And the last thing I wanted was for anyone to be affected by my bad decisions. I didn’t want her to suffer or . . . but was it a good idea?
“Because I once was.” Pops brings me back from my thoughts. “I did exactly that. I asked the girl I was dating in high school to follow me. She did, and guess what? She wasn’t the love of my life. It was infatuation, or maybe something else, but the point is, she regretted going to Michigan with me. She hated it and ended up hating me. There’s also the fact that she made me realize I was in love with my best friend.”
That’s a story I didn’t know. And yeah, I can’t imagine him and Dad not being together. I mean, they have pictures of them together since they were young. They weren’t super close, but close enough.
“And you thought?—”
“Was it me, or was it what I said, Kill?” he asks, cutting me off. “I never asked you to break up with her. Did I?”
I stop short before something I don’t mean comes out. Because maybe he’s right. He didn’t say ‘fuck up your life and break her heart.’ He said . . . what were his exact words? I can’t even remember but the last thing I wanted was for her to fail at something she was good at because of me.
“I don’t know what would’ve happened if you’d proposed to her,” he says after a moment. “Maybe she would’ve said no, or maybe she would’ve said yes. You can blame me if it makes you feel better. I had no idea she was the reason you can’t settle down. The point is, you can’t keep living in the what-ifs. Get some fucking closure, move on—you’re thirty-five.”
I exhale slowly, his words sinking in like a slow, painful truth I’ve tried to outrun. “Kill, you have the chance to try again or to realize that she wasn’t the love of your life,” he says, his voice so soft now it almost doesn’t sound like him. “You’re older. Wiser. So is she. This time, whatever decision you make, it’s hers too. Not just yours.”
The line goes quiet, and for a second, I wonder if he’s still there. “You’re right, I’m older, but also it wasn’t only what you said.” And I tell him what happened with her father.
“We would’ve handled him, Kill. If anyone threatens your family, you come to us and we handle it,” he says angry. “You were too young and that man was out of line. I can see why things played out the waythey did. As I said, you’re not him anymore. Things can be different now.”
“I don’t even know if she’ll let me in,” I admit, my voice raw. Vulnerable.
“She might not,” he says simply. “But you’ll never know if you don’t try.” And then he pulls out the kicker: “You’ve got the ball, son. Don’t fumble it.”
It sounds simple, but nothing about Camille has ever been simple.
I stare at my phone for a long time, then pull up her contact again. I type out a message, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard, before finally hitting send.
Can we talk? I want to make things right.
I set the phone down and wait.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Killion: When are you coming home?
Killion: Don’t ignore me. I’m going to keep messaging you.
Killion: Do. Not. Ignore. Me.
Killion: Cam, answer, please.
Killion: Don’t make me search for you.
Camille:What do you need, Killion?
Killion: Finally, I’ve been trying to contact you for hours. I need to discuss something very important with you, and you’re not home.
Camille: I’ve been in back-to-back surgeries. Some of us have important jobs, you know.
Killion: Oh, so that’s what your social media story means? “Today I’m at CHMC.” I’m assuming that’s Central Heights Medical Center?
Camille: Are you stalking me, Killion?
