Page 57 of Salvation
Campbell’s sharp gaze jumps to mine, assessing me. “I didn’t know you were painting the mural.”
I smile, not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “I saw a flyer for it in the coffee shop. Lily Carson hired me.” The muscle in Campbell’s jaw jumps like he’s trying to put two pieces of a puzzle together, but he can’t make them work. “Willow, if it’s okay with your mom and dad, maybe you can come check out the mural sometime. It’s in the beginning stages right now, but it will get there.”
I hope.
I’m still struggling. I have a concept. It’s just a vague idea in my head, but at least it’s more than I had a couple of weeks ago.
“Yeah, that’d probably be cool.” Willow’s phone lights up, and her attention is stolen away. She picks it up, frowning as her thumbs fly over the screen.
John’s mouth tightens into a thin line. “Willow, put the phone away, please.”
He’s polite when he asks, but it’s obvious his frustration is bubbling just beneath the surface. We are all here for Willow, but she seems more interested in the conversation she’s having on her phone than being here, getting to know us like she insisted. Offhandedly, I wonder if the person on the other side of that conversation is the boyfriend that John and Jackie aren’t fans of.
Cameron, maybe?
If that’s the case, I can see why they might not like him. Willow wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows the last time wewere together, but she wasn’t constantly scowling at her phone, either.
Willow glares at John as she makes a show of putting her phone away, then she sits back in her seat and looks at Campbell. “What about you? What do you do?”
“I work at the Benton Falls Police Department. I’m an officer there, but I—uh—I’m currently on leave.”
My head snaps toward him.
“Why?”
Wondering about Campbell is like a reflex. It comes naturally, and I couldn’t stop it even if I tried because I’ve been doing it for years. But this is different. A sour feeling settles into my gut, turning the insides of my stomach over and over.
Campbell has wanted to be an officer for as long as I can remember. He used to talk about it the same way Hayes used to talk about getting a scholarship to play football in college, and with that knowledge, plus the unfinished conversation from his truck still looming between us, I realize that feeling in my gut is fear. Something about Campbell scares me, not of him—but for him.
Campbell’s jaw ticks faster. “I needed a break.”
The coldness in his voice is such an abrupt change from the softness it held when we were dancing in the kitchen that it gives me whiplash. My head jerks back, and I pull my gaze away from his. It’s the second time he’s shut me down and refused to talk. Maybe I shouldn’t take it personally because it’s been a long time since we’ve been confidants, but it still stings anyway because once upon a time, I would have been. And I miss having a connection with someone like that—the kind that’s not just about what they can do for you, but what you can do for them, too. I’ve never had it with anyone else besides Campbell, not even Brecks.
Willow eyes us, too perceptive for a sixteen-year-old girl. “So—considering you didn’t know about this, I’m going to guess you aren’t together?”
Campbell’s shoulders go rigid, a bow pulled back tight.
“Um—no. We aren’t.” I avoid Campbell’s gaze, hoping Willow will move on to a new topic, but I should have known better. She’s Campbell’s daughter. Stubbornness runs in his veins, and apparently in Willow’s, too.
“So, what then? You both moved on? Forgot about each other?”
My empty ring finger burns. I look up from under my lashes, just enough to see Campbell staring at it, too.
“It’s complicated,” I say at the same time Campbell says, “Five hundred thirty-three million, eight hundred thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-eight.”
Willow’s brows press together. “What?”
Campbell meets my gaze, stealing the breath from my lungs. “That’s how many seconds I’ve been missing her,” he says, holding my eyes long enough I can see the sincerity in his before he turns to Willow. “I could never forget.”
Willow says something to Campbell, but I can’t make out what it is. His voice is still ringing in my ears.
Five hundred thirty-three million, eight hundred, thirty-eight thousand, four hundred and thirty-eight. That’s how many seconds I’ve been missing her.
He knew—down to the second. In the time it takes to get from one heartbeat to the next, Campbell flipped my life upside down.
Campbell glances back over at me, concern filling the ocean blue of his eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asks silently, and I throw him back a look that screams, “What do you think? You just dropped a bomb in my lap, and I have no idea how to handle it.”
