Page 90 of My Sweetest Obsession
It’s the part of me that will always struggle with those voices in my head.
“I don’t know if I can explain it, Ivy, because that’s something I don’t understand myself. Every fucking minute of every day, I look back and wonder who the fuck that person was who made so many horrible decisions and hurt so many people.” I shake my head, as if the motion might somehow alleviate some of the pain centered there with the memories. “I know you can’t forgive me, Ivy, and it’s okay if you never can, but that isn’t going to stop this.”
I motion between us.
A tear slips from her eye, slowly making its way down her cheek. “Stop what?”
“Whatever this is between us.” My hands tremble as I shove them through my hair. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you with every fucking fiber of my being. That I don’t want to be here with you every moment of every fucking day. That it doesn’t destroy me every time I walk away from you. That I’m terrified I’m going to miss something important with you, with this baby. That I’m going to miss out on your life, on hers. And believe me, I know how fucking selfish it is to want that when Drew can’t have it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t.”
Ivy sobs, crumpling in on herself, and I can’t take it anymore.
I close the distance between us and pull her against me, burying my face in her hair as her hands press into my stomach and her forehead falls to my chest, her belly into mine.
Each labored breath, every anguished sound that falls from her lips, makes it harder and harder for me to fight my own tears.
“I don’t hate you.” She pulls her head back and looks up at me, tears now streaking down her cheeks. “I wanted to so badly.” Fingers cling to my shirt, twisting the soft fabric. “I wanted to hate you, but even the night you told me everything, I couldn’t. If I had, I would have left you to your own devices. I would have let you drink yourself to death or shoot that poison into your veins. I would have gotten my revenge that way, but I couldn’t hate you.”
“Why not?”
I’m terrified of her answer, of what might come out, but I need to know.
“Because it isn’t your fault.”
Her declaration stiffens my spine.
She can’t be saying what I think she is…
“What?”
“I’ve been blaming you for everything, but it isn’t really your fault.”
I tighten my hold on her. “Of course it is, Ivy?—”
“No, Cam.” She clutches my shirt tighter, jerking me toward her, forcing me to hold her gaze. “Marlo said something to me last week that stuck, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. About everything that happened in minute detail.”
The same thing I’ve been doing for months…
Reliving every word said.
Every action.
Every thought that led to this.
Ivy offers me the saddest smile. “It was all just some weird twist of fate.” Her eyebrows rise. “Why did I meet Drew first and not you? Why did I go out into the yard alone that night? Why did you find me before Drew did? Why didn’t I notice all the things that should have told me you weren’t him?” She reaches up and trails her fingers across my cheek. “Why didn’t he tell me the truth when he had so much time to? Why was he so afraid? What did I do to make him question that? Why didn’t that doll get delivered when my invitation did? Why did I choose to fucking send it? Why did that car have to be crossing that intersection at the exact moment Drew was distracted enough to run the stop sign?”
A sob slips from her lips as all the questions she just asked, ones I’ve anguished over, continue to float through my head. Each one a single millisecond in time. A chance for things to go differently.
But they didn’t.
For some inexplicable reason, this is where we ended.
Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away, needing to see her clearly.
“None of it makes sense, Cam, because none of it was in anyone’s control. Not really. There are so many variables, and any one of them being different would have changed everything.” She huffs out a labored breath. “I can’t keep blaming you for all of it. I can’t. Because there were so many opportunities for things to turn out differently, which means there’s a reason they turned out like this.”
One of her hands slips down between us to press against her swollen belly.
“Maybe this baby wouldn’t have happened if everything else hadn’t.” The corner of her lips tips up. “Maybe she is my chance to let go of all of this pain and anger because holding it in feels like constantly drinking poison.” Her eyes search mine. “I can’t keep acting like I don’t love you.”
