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“Please, wash your face. I feel like a stranger is talking to me.”
I swallow the words barreling to come out and head toward the bathroom. I can’t do anything about my clothes, but I remove my lenses and wash the colorful lipstick, bright eye shadow, and thick foundation from my face until I resemble the Cameron Norwick Kenya cares about.
When I rejoin her, she doesn’t turn to acknowledge me. “Kenya, I’ve been searching for a right time to tell you the truth. I came to Escondido Bay to hide. That meant not disclosing my identity to anyone. Then I met you again. I didn’t know you would come to mean so much to me or how desperate I would be for you. When I knew my feelings were growing, I intended to come clean. I actually got the nerve up to confess once, but before I realized it, you’d fallen asleep. Believe me, I know there’s no excuse for why I didn’t try again, but your reaction to Cheryl Lee caused me to reevaluate how and when to admit that I’m a musician.”
“Is that why you refused to promise me you wouldn’t lie?” she whispers with her back toward me. Her words are stilted as if she’s using all her energy not to fall apart on me.
“Please, look at me,” I plead.
“I can’t. You’re too good at manipulating my emotions.”
“I don’t—I never intentionally—” No matter what I say, there’s some truth to her accusations. I’ve pulled out all the stops to tie her to me by using her passion against her. “You know I love you.”
“Don’t you dare say that to me right now. All this time I’ve been agonizing about not confusing my feelings for you with love because I might hurt you. Meanwhile, you casually throw the word around, not caring what casualties lie in the wake of your destruction.”
I fight the urge to hug her. She is so brittle that a physical overture might shatter her.
“Kenya, I didn’t lie to you about how I feel for you. It’s not fair to minimize our relationship this way.”
“You think I can trust you after you lied about a huge part of your life?”
“I shared as much of it with you as I could.”
“Please, stop, Cameron. You shared what was convenient. You glossed over the important stuff. You used your trauma to weasel your way under my defenses. And you expect me to pretend like what you did isn’t dangerous?’
“There was never any danger to you.”
“How do you know? All it takes is one stalker fan to consider me as unnecessary in your life.”
“Kenya…”
She spins around in a furious flurry. Silent tears drip from her chin. “I told you what lying took from me. You’re sending me back to that time when everything I loved was ripped from me, and you expect me to laugh this off? I can’t do that.”
“What are you saying?”
“I don’t have to say the words for you to know.”
Unable to fight the urge any longer, I grab her shoulders. “Don’t end us. Don’t throw me away. You’ll be hurting yourself as much as me if you don’t take the time you need to consider my side of things. You need me, remember?”
I recognize my mistake as soon as the words slip past my lips.
A bitter laugh escapes her. “You made sure of that, didn’t you? Made sure to be my first for everything so I’ll never be able to touch myself without missing your hands on me. Made sure that I’d have your image forever imprinted on my memory, my house, my life. You were so thorough.” Kenya pulls out of my arms. “But you know what? I will get over you. I’ll rewrite my future to erase the places you filled. I’ll make you a ghost and become your exorcist. Whatever I have to do to never think your name or imagine your face, I’ll do it.” She viciously wipes the tears from her eyes.
“Kenya—”
“Why are you still here? Leave!” she screams her torment at me.
I back away, recognizing that fighting any further will not benefit me. “I’ll come for my things tomorrow.”
* * *
After leaving Kenya’s place,I drive for hours with no destination in mind. The pain bracketing her face haunts me in every street light and at every stop sign. The despair in her voice plays over the melody that usually comes to mind whenever thoughts of her inundate me.
The gas light comes on, but I’m in no mood to find a station. I head towards my sister’s temporary rental. She’s alone when I get there. With one look at me, she opens her arms and I fall into the comfort she lovingly provides.
“How did you leave things?” she asks while leading me to her guest room.
“I have to get her back.”
