Trying to live

Chapter 44

Wyatt had it worse, though. While I'd lost my friends on my own, Wyatt lost his because of me. His loyalty kept him from telling them the truth. He stood by me, even when it cost him everything. It showed how much he valued me, even though I had been a terrible friend to him. Whoever ended up with Wyatt would be the luckiest person alive.

"Cam's a good guy," Wyatt said, breaking the silence.

"I know," I replied, a little confused.

"Does he take good care of you?"

"Yeah. He's kind, thoughtful," I answered honestly.

Wyatt nodded, his gaze distant. "You probably know by now that he liked you while you were still with Henry."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"You gave him a chance to show how he really feels about you."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"It is, but only if you're just as invested." Wyatt paused, choosing his words carefully. "I get that you two are a couple now, but it happened so fast."

I bristled at the implication. "Cam and I spend a lot of time together. It didn't happen fast. He wanted me to be his girlfriend, and I decided to give him a chance."

"I know and that's okay. I just want you to know that he really loves you, but the question is do you really love him?"

His words lingered in the air, heavier than they should've been. My throat felt dry, but I forced out, "Of course I do."

Wyatt's smile didn't reach his eyes. "That's what I thought."

Before I could respond, he stood up and hugged me tightly. His grip was firm but fleeting, like he knew how fragile I felt. "Take care, Em. I'll always be your friend, no matter what."
He left, and I stared after him, the weight of his words settling on my chest. He knew. Maybe not everything, but he saw through me in ways I didn't want to admit—not to him, not to myself.

I didn't know what I was doing or why, only that my heart hurt. Everything inside me hurt. I couldn't stop the pain. It tore me apart, but I couldn't tell anyone. Telling the truth would mean revealing my secret, and I couldn't do that.

That secret could destroy everything.

So, I buried it deep inside and returned to my safe little shell—the one where I protected my heart and myself.

A touch on my shoulder startled me. I turned to find Cam smiling softly at me. "Hey."

"Hi." I forced cheer into my voice, but his brown eyes searched mine, and I wondered if he saw the cracks Wyatt had pointed out.

"You okay?"

"Yes." The lie came easily, and I hated myself for it.

Cam didn't look convinced. "Do you want a ride, or are you going with your brother?"

"I'll go with you."

He smiled, this time more genuinely, and I was glad. I wasn't letting Henry's words dictate my choices—not anymore. I needed to focus on Cam, on us.

When we pulled into my driveway, he caught my wrist before I could get out. "Listen, I need to say something about you and Wyatt—"

"Don't," I cut him off, already tired of the topic. How many times did I have to explain that Wyatt and I were just friends?

"Let me finish," he said firmly, holding my gaze. "I get that you and Wyatt slept together—"

I groaned, but Cam continued undeterred. "I also get that there are no feelings between you two. But when it comes to Henry... that's different. Feelings are involved. That's why what he says still matters to you."

My stomach churned. "I don't know what you mean."

Cam sighed. "You loved Henry, right?"

I didn't need to think about it. "Yeah."

"And he loved you?"

Memories of Henry and me rushed in—warm and sharp, undeniable. "Yeah," I admitted after a pause.

"Then it makes sense that you're both still attached. It matters to you what he says, just like it matters to him what you think."

"Henry doesn't matter anymore," I said quickly, but the words felt foreign, like a borrowed lie. "We broke up a year ago."

Cam studied me intently. His dark brown eyes searched mine as he squeezed my hand. "I'm not asking you to love me the way you loved him. I just don't want you to rush things because I love you. I want you to love me at your own pace—not because you feel like you have to. "

His words, kind and selfless, struck a chord I didn't want to acknowledge. Shame and gratitude warred within me. This man deserved better than the tangled mess of emotions I carried.

I couldn't find the words, so I kissed him instead. 

But as his lips met mine, he said one thing that struck me as hard as it could. "Just don't use me."

My heart felt like it was shattering all over again, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a truth I didn't want to face.

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