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“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“Sorry?” she snaps. “That’s the best you’ve got? All this time we were together. I told you everything about me—my deepest wounds and insecurities, mistakes I’ve made. Then you turn around and stab me in my barely-healed woundandtwist the damn knife.”
I blow out a breath, rub at the scratches on my knuckles left over from my boxing match at the hotel.
A long minute goes by.
“I should have told you. Not Jamie or the internet. I never wanted you to see that.”
“I bet you didn’t want me to see that. You in a hotel room with multiple women and your friends.” She swipes at her face, her dark hair falling over her cheeks.
There’s so much I want to say to her, but nothing comes out. My throat’s dry and tight, every muscle clenched.
Instead, I sit there, frozen in the steaming hot car. Wishing and hoping she’ll forgive me.
“You sold me a fairytale, Cam. A happily ever after that does not exist. And I fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. I wanted to believe in love. Believe in you, in us. But I don’t even know you.”
That’s a sucker punch straight to my gut, knocking the wind out of me. Because she’s right and I know it.
I should have come clean, been forthright and honest with her. And now it’s too late.
“I’m sorry,” I say in a hoarse whisper. I can’t look at her, can’t bear the pain in her eyes, the disgust.
“I wish that was enough, Cam. But it’s not. I’ve heard that line one too many times and it’s just not good enough.”
I swallow hard over the massive lump in my throat, panic clawing at my neck, my chest, threatening to pull me under.
I want to make everything right between us, put us back together again. But I’m not sure I can.
“I made the team. I’m leaving in ten days.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, gnawing at her lip. “Congrats. I’m sure you’ll be great.”
“Thanks.”
We sit in silence for another long minute. Words and phrases roll through my mind, things I should say face-to-face while I have the chance. But I don’t have the courage.
I broke her and I’m not sure we can ever come back from this.
CHAPTER 38
CAM
Ihit the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, all in the last twenty-four hours. I’m exhausted and feel like I’m crawling through quicksand as I trudge up the steps at the lake house. The hot summer sun’s setting, vibrant pinks and oranges spilling over the white marble kitchen, but the magnificent view brings me no joy.
Not now.
Now all I want to do is collapse in a dark, cold, quiet room and sleep for the next nine days. Maybe longer.
Without Sloane, there is no point.
Two months ago, football was life. But being back home in Thunder Creek shifted my priorities.
I love football, sure.
But I love Sloane more.
And I lost her.
