Page 91 of Salvation
A warm hand lands on my shoulder, and when I look up, I find Lily standing beside me with a sad smile. “I’ll drive you.”
In any other circumstance, I would argue, but this is Campbell. I’ll do anything as long as it gets me to him.
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My knee won’t quit bouncing. I’m sitting in the passenger seat of Lily’s car, staring out the front window as we drive to Campbell’s. Lily said it’s just a five-minute drive across town, but those five minutes are starting to feel like an eternity. All I can picture is the blankness that resided in Campbell’s eyes when I first returned to Benton Falls.
“Hey,” Lily says, reaching over and placing her hand on my knee. “We’re almost there. Okay?”
I try to swallow, but it feels like there’s barbed wire wrapped around my throat. “Yeah, okay.”
She pats my leg and puts her hand back on the steering wheel, staring out the front window when she says, “Look, I don’t usually do this. I’m kind of new to the whole church thing—and I don’t really know how this works—but would it be okay if I said a prayer?”
My first instinct is to say no, but then my mind wanders to my conversation with Della Rae. Maybe she is right. Maybe I’ve been blaming God for things he didn’t have a part in instead of the people who did. My cynicism has made it hard to realize that not everyone is like my grandparents.
“Yeah, I think that might be okay.”
Lily’s shoulders rise with a deep breath, then fall as she slowly exhales and nods. “Okay. Right. So I guess, I’ll just start.” It’s clear she’s nervous about this, so I stay quiet, letting her gather her thoughts. “Hey—uh—God. It’s us—Lily and Ivy. We were just hoping that maybe you’d watch over Campbell. Givehim peace—you know. He’s one of the best men we know, and he deserves that. Anyway, thanks for listening.”
The prayer isn’t filled with pretty, fluffy words. It’s real and so vulnerable it makes my throat ache. This is always what I thought faith should look like.
Neither of us says anything for the rest of the trip, each lost in our thoughts for different reasons, and when Lily finally pulls up to the curb at Campbell’s house, I jump out of the car before I have a chance to take it in.
Sprinting through the yard and up the stairs, I bang on the door and yell for him to let me in. Something is wrong, I can feel it in the air. “Campbell,” I scream, tears streaming down my face, “let me in right now.”
I can’t explain why my body is ice cold with fear, but I can’t shake it—can’t shake the feeling that if I don’t get into this house, life will never look the same.
Looking around, I search for a key. Lily stands outside her car, her brows dipped down with concern, but I ignore her. I ignore everything except the instinct pulling me toward the man inside.
Spying a rock big enough to hide a key in the flowerbed in front of Campbell’s house, I rush down the stairs and flip it over, praying I’ll find what I need. A rush of relief floods my system when a silver key gleams back at me, taped to the bottom of the rock. I struggle to make my fingers work long enough to get the tape off, but eventually, I get it and rush back to the door. Before I unlock it, I turn back to Lily, waving her away and assuring her that I have things handled from here. She hesitates for a moment, but I don’t wait for her to decide. Without a second glance, I slip the key into the lock and let myself into Campbell’s home.
The first thing I notice is the piles of clothes scattered everywhere, as if he folded them and never found the energy toput them away. But the clothes aren’t the only thing that’s been left out. The house is a mess. Cups sit beside a white stuffed animal on the coffee table, and dust coats all the furniture. Growing up, Campbell always took pride in keeping his space clean, and as I look around this room, it only makes the fear in my stomach grow.
There’s a hallway to my left, leading to what I assume are the bedrooms, and I head that way, sticking my head in each door I come to to see if I can find Campbell, but the only thing I find in each room is my paintings hanging on the walls. I make it through three guest bedrooms and a bathroom before there’s only one door left.
I take a deep breath, terrified of what I will find, and then shove the door open. No amount of breathing would have ever prepared me for what I see on the other side, though. Campbell is lying in a bed with crumpled sheets with tears streaming down his face. The lights are off, but there’s still enough sunlight peeking through his curtains that I can see him. His clothes are crumpled like he hasn’t moved in days, and there’s several days’ worth of stubble on his cheeks. He doesn’t bother to look at me as I make my way deeper into the room.
“Go away, Ivy.” His deep voice rumbles through the room as he rolls to his side, facing away from me. He’s hiding, letting the shame of his feelings control him, but I won’t let him.
Climbing into his bed, I don’t say a word as I slip in behind him, wrapping my arms around him to hold him against me.
“I’m not going anywhere, Campbell,” I whisper against his back.
A sob shakes his body, and he rolls over in my arms, pulling me closer to him like he’s afraid I might take back that promise if he doesn’t.
“I thought I was better,” he says, his voice a deep rumble against my chest. “I was taking the medicine. I’m going totherapy. You’re here. We have Willow. Everything was good, so why do I feel like this? I’m supposed to be better. I’m supposed to be a man.”
“Oh, baby,” I say, reaching up and tracing my hand against the line of his jaw. The stubble pricks my skin, but I don’t stop. “Depression isn’t something that ever just goes away. It’s okay to be sad, but don’t try to do it alone, okay? You don’t ever have to do it alone. You’re one of the strongestmenI know, but that doesn’t mean you have to hold all the weight just because you can.”
“I don’t know how not to carry it, Ivy. I don’t know how to let you or anyone else see this side of me.”
“Then let me help you. Let me shoulder some of it for you.”
He shakes his head, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. “You deserve better than that, Ivy. You deserve better thanme.”
The brokenness in his voice nearly kills me, and I decide right then that it’s past time I tell him how I feel.
“I love you, Campbell—every broken piece of you. I never stopped loving you, even when I tried, and I never will. You may lose sight of your worth sometimes, but for the rest of my life, I will be right here reminding you of it—just like you do for me. So no, I don’t deserve better. After everything we’ve been through, I deserve you, and do you know what?”
