Page 10 of My Sweetest Obsession
Her brow furrows even deeper, her eyes narrowing. “What about it?”
Rubbing the nape of my neck, I avert my gaze. “I was there.”
She jerks back slightly. “You were? I never saw you. I thought you had a show and couldn’t?—”
I hold out a hand and drop it onto hers, squeezing it tightly, examining how much smaller it is than mine, rather than having to look at her. “I know. That’s what I told you and Drew. I wanted it to be a surprise, but”—I release a little mirthless laugh, but all that does is make those knives stab into my temples—“I didn’t make it inside.”
“Why not?”
Cautiously, I allow my gaze to meet hers again. “Because I met Ivy.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “What do you mean you met her?”
I clear my throat and pull my hand from hers, instead wrapping it around the mug. And once again, I find myself unable to look at her, instead focusing on the black liquid I’m forcing myself to drink. “She was out in the garden, under the willow, getting some air, I guess.” My throat tightens at the memory and how one single decision on my part caused such a catastrophic result for all of us. “She thought I was Drew…”
A moment passes before I hear her sharp inhale.
“Oh, God.” Mom’s hand comes to rest on my bare shoulder, and I can feel her trembling. “Cam, what did you do?”
And there it is…
The accusation in her tone, in her question, because this woman knows me too well, understands how often I let my heart lead instead of my head. How often I leap without looking. How often I fail to see the potential consequences of my actions…
And that’s exactly what I did that night.
I leaped, and I fell.
Fucking hard.
For a woman who could never be mine.
I squeeze my eyes closed. “Something that shouldn’t have happened.”
The details don’t matter.
And given the lack of them, Mom certainly knows it went way too far.
She makes a little choking noise in the back of her throat. “Drew figured it out…”
I nod, remembering that text he sent me, those five words.
“I know what you did.”
Even now, they send a shiver through me. Knowing what they led to, knowing what I caused is enough to make my chest tighten and my body scream for some relief from the pain.
Silence lingers between us for a few moments.
I force my eyes open and look at Mom to gauge her reaction.
She examines me like she’s seeing something she never has before.
And she is, in a way.
It’s been well over four years since we’ve seen each other in any way but a video call, and I know she sees how I’ve changed—not just physically, but the darkness that has clouded me for far too long.
She lifts a hand and rests it on my cheek. “What happened, Cam?”
I shake my head, her hand falling away. “I knew he’d never forgive me, and there was no reason he should, so I went back to London on the first flight out, tried to pretend none of it happened, but…”
