Page 38 of Staying for You

Chapter Twelve

Cami

We just finishedthe first bottle of wine and opened up the second. Luckily they’re screw top since I don’t have a bottle opener. As soon as Owen left, Olivia launched into a story about how she somehow convinced Owen that if he wore women’s panties, his penis would grow. This was when he was sixteen and she was fourteen. She was very proud of herself and could hardly get through the story without cracking up.

In turn, we all laughed as well. Soon we were doubled over, stomachs aching, tears streaming down our faces. It was exactly what I needed.

Owen couldn’t have known that his words hurt in a way that drudged up ugly memories. Scott always called me high maintenance. It was his way of deflecting the fact that he was actually the high maintenance one. Hell, he was the one who got regular manicures, pedicures, and facials. He would get shitty with me if I asked him to pick up groceries and asked specifically for chicken thighs instead of breasts, acting as if that’s a huge request. And apparently my desire to have a clean home meant that I was damn near impossible to live with. It’s not my fault that I feel more at peace when things are organized, like my life is more manageable.

When I heard Owen suggest that I was the type of person who needed coddled and praised, that I was only playing a part and would soon show my truth… words that Scott used against me so many times, it hurt worse than ever hearing those insults come out of Owen’s mouth. Maybe it’s because I knew that Scott was only saying those things to be a jerk. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid that there’s some truth to it.

A part of me knows why it hurt, though. That’s the part that I’m trying to ignore and doing a very poor job at it.

“I still can’t believe we’re sitting here having wine with Camilla Moore,” Chloe gushes, staring at me with her chin rested in her hand.

I smirk at her over-the-top theatrics. “I know. You two are so lucky.”

Chloe places a hand to her heart. “Right? Clearly the odds were in our favor.”

Liv wipes a fake tear. “It just means so much to us…”

We fall into another fit of giggles and Liv sits down after pouring us each another glass of wine.

“In all seriousness, I am having so much fun getting to know you. I follow you on social media, but I had no idea you’d be this down to earth.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, sipping at the deep red wine. I’m sure my teeth will be stained after we’re done but the taste is worth it. A tiny bit sweet and fruity but still bold and rich. I don’t drink very often, and wine usually isn’t my go-to if I am having a drink even though recently I’ve been drinking more often, but it’s warming my belly and helping me to unwind.

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I guess I figured you’d be more closed off, but you’re just like us.”

“Watch what you say,” Chloe jokes, “that might not be a good thing.”

I grin, cozying into my little corner of the couch. We brought the Adirondack chair off the deck into the cabin and Chloe is sitting in it, lounged back with her knees tucked to her chest and a blanket draped over her legs.

Liv might have been the one who said she was having fun, but I can’t deny the fact that I haven’t enjoyed myself like this in years. Admittedly, I don’t have a lot of friends in real life aside from Gretchen and a few others. Family members, too. I’m more fortunate than a lot, I’m sure. Being an author can be terribly lonely. I work out of my home and rarely leave the house which means I don’t open myself up often to meeting new people.

For the past few years, though, my time spent with Gretchen was only discussing my lackluster writing or failed marriage. Not exactly uplifting or light conversation. The thing is, I know that a lot of it was because she loves me and cares. She truly wants the best for me and believes in me. However, focusing all our attention on my failures has not been good for my self-esteem.

“You think I’m down to earth?” I eventually ask.

Liv’s eyes soften. “Yes. Not for one minute did I think you’re high maintenance, if that’s what you’re asking. Don’t even think that. And honestly, I know my brother and he doesn’t think that, either. He’s a better judge of character than that.”

“It’s just… my ex. He messed with my head, I suppose. He threw words like that around to describe me for years.” When the person who’s supposed to always love and know you better than anyone else uses certain words to define you, it’s hard not to believe there’s some truth to it, no matter what kind of a jackass that person is.

“Well, it’s a good thing his title is now ex, if you ask me.”

Tears spring to my eyes and I agree with her, though I find it hard to speak.

The thing is, getting divorced feels like a failure. At one point, the love was strong enough to commit ourselves to one another in front of an entire sanctuary full of our family and friends. It’s hard not to believe his insults. The lies he told me constantly to belittle myself.

“Can I ask you something? And I realize this is probably overstepping but I really don’t have a lot of a filter anymore so I’m just going to ask it.”

“Go ahead. If I don’t want to answer, I just won’t.”

Liv laughs. “I like you. Okay, when did your marriage start heading south?”

“You mean, was it around the time my books started sucking?”

She gasps then Chloe quickly corrects her. “No! That’s not what she meant!”

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