Page 24 of My Sweetest Agony
I know I shouldn’t ask.
I know I shouldn’t pry.
But the question sits on the tip of my tongue, burning like acid, until I finally have to spit it out. “What happened between you and Drew?”
His entire body goes rigid, his eyes burning as they cut over to me. He locks his gaze with mine. The intensity of it makes me hold my breath for a moment. Another. So long that my lungs burn, and I’m confident he isn’t going to answer me.
The column of his throat works hard. “I told you. It’s complicated…”
Complicated?
That single word holds a thousand meanings and seems to weigh a thousand pounds as it settles into the air between us.
I let all the air rush from my lungs, not even bothering to attempt to hide my frustration at his response.
After all this time, he has some of the answers.
He can clear up some of that uncertainty.
I chew on my bottom lip. “Can you uncomplicate it? I mean, when he and I first started dating, he talked about you all the time. It sounded like you two were on the phone to each other almost daily.”
Cam nods slowly, confirming those first few weeks when Drew and I were still getting to know each other.
“And then all of a sudden, poof.” I throw up my hands. “It was like you were persona non-grata and a topic we weren’t allowed to discuss.” I lock my gaze with his. “And he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”
Cam’s throat works on his response. “It’s better that he didn’t.”
“Why is that?”
He pushes to his feet, snagging the jacket from the corner of the couch.
Shit, I scared him away.
He tugs it on, glancing at the window. “Because some things are better left buried.” Shoving a hand roughly through his hair, he glances at the window again. “I have to go.” He scans the various stacks of things on the coffee table and the three or four boxes around it. “I didn’t get very far today.”
I rise to my feet and clear my throat, trying to dispel the lump in it as well as some of the tension now permeating the air. “Well, you’re welcome to come back, but I’m at the greenhouse most days from like 6:00 in the morning until 5:00 or 6:00 at night. Sometimes later if someone calls in sick, I’m closing, or if we have a big wedding coming up.”
He nods, rubbing a hand across his stubbled cheek and avoiding looking at me again as he stalks toward the door.
Watching him walk away.
Not knowing if I’ll ever see him again tugs at something anchored in my chest.
“Why don’t I give you a key?”
His head jerks toward me, his eyes wide as they scan my face. “Are you serious?”
I nod and push up from the couch, leading him out of the office and to the kitchen. His heavy footsteps follow me. Along with his tense silence.
You idiot.
You shouldn’t have pushed him.
He was actually talking, telling me things I never knew about their relationship or about him. And hearing him talk about Drew, the love in his voice, the joy in the stories, even in his sorrow, it made me feel something other than pain for the first time in over a month.
I tug open the drawer beside the sink and pull out the spare key, then turn and extend my hand toward him with it resting in my palm.
He reaches forward cautiously, like it might jump up and bite him. His calloused fingers brush across my skin as he takes it, sending a little shiver through me. “You’re just going to give me a key to your house?”
