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His voice is surprised and a little hopeful.
I activate the voice app so when I speak, it’s Gwen’s bright, sunshine voice that comes out.
“Cameron, I’m so sorry to call like this, but I’m on campus. At Hayworth. I need to see you.”
“What?” There’s rustling on his end. An image of Cameron tangled in bed with Liam rises up. I could kill Liam.
“Are you okay?” Cameron asks, shattering the image.
“I—” My voice wavers as I allow the real panic I’m feeling to bleed through. “Not really. But I need to see you. Can we meet?”
“Of course. Yeah, of course.” He sounds worried now. “Where are you? I can come to you.”
“The Bunbury Café,” I say, looking across the street at the place I just fled. “Can you meet me there? In fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
He hangs up.
I stand there for a moment, phone still pressed to my ear, trying to process what I just did.
Claire is gone. I saw her leave while I was on the phone, walking quickly down the street without looking back. The café is right there, waiting. I cross the street and go back inside. I take a different seat this time, away from the window, tucked in the corner where I can see the door. I stay partially hidden, and I wait.
Ten minutes later, Cameron walks in. His eyes scan the café, looking for Gwen, looking for a version of Gwen who doesn’t exist. I turn so all he sees is a man with dark hair sitting in my corner. He’s wearing a knitted cream fisherman’s sweater that makes him look gentler than usual, paired with dark jeans. His hair is slightly ruffled, like he’s been pulling and twisting it with his fingers.
He sits at a table near the window and pulls his phone out to check it. His leg shakes under the table. His elbows rest on the surface, and he leans forward, tension visible in every line of his body. He’s nervous to meet Gwen.
Watching him cracks my resolve. I can’t do this. I can’t walk over there, tell him the truth, and watch his face change from hope to horror. I can’t watch him realize that everything he’s felt, everything he’s shared, was with me. I’ll lose the connection we have. He’ll lose Gwen, and I’ll lose the only honest thing between us.
Fuck.
What do I do?
I want to be honest with him, to prove that everything I said when I was Gwen was real. I want him to know that what we have goes so much deeper than our past, that we are stitched together at the absolute center of who we are. But how do I make him see a truth like that?
Cameron checks his phone again. His leg is still shaking.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out. It’s a text from Cameron to Gwen.
where are you?
Gwen is now ten minutes late.
Cameron’s leg bounces under the café table and he twists his hair with his finger. He glances toward the door, then back at his phone, then back at the door like he’s trying to manifest her through sheer force of will.
His fingers drum against the table. He stops and picks up the phone, sets it down, and picks it up again.
He tugs at the collar of his shirt like it’s suddenly too tight. His eyes dart around the café, checking if anyone’s watching him, if anyone notices he’s been stood up.
He types something. Deletes it. Types again.
Another buzz.
are you still coming?
His whole body is tense now. His shoulders are pulled up toward his ears. His hand trembles as he sets the phone down, and he balls it into a fist, pressing it against the table.
