Page 81 of Staying for You

Never have I met a person I felt a connection with like I did with you.

But you didn’t ask, Owen.

You. Didn’t. Ask.

You just exploded and hurt me. Again.

And after being hurt repeatedly by a man who supposedly loved me for the better part of a decade, I won’t allow myself to be hurt like that again.

We could have been great together.

We could have loved each other in a way that would last.

Why didn’t you ask, Owen?

I’m so pissed at you for not giving us the chance we deserved.

For being a wuss and expecting the worse out of me when I’d never, not once, given you a reason to.

We could have been great together.

We could have loved each other in a way that would last.

Cami

Chapter Twenty-Four

Cami

I only makeit five hours before I have to pull over and stay somewhere for the night. Not because I’ve been crying and need to take a break. Because I left at the stupidest time possible and I’m starving because I missed lunch and only had a bag of peanuts in my car to snack on. I left all the food in the cabin, not caring enough to go through it. Owen can deal with it. It’s only 7 p.m. and I’m also exhausted. Emotionally spent from everything I found out today.

My ex is still a dumb mother effer.

Not surprising.

Owen is also a dumb mother effer.

Very surprising.

“Do you have any rooms available?” I’m standing at the counter of a nice little Drury Inn looking like a crazy person. My hair is a mess, I know my mascara is running down my face, and I’m carrying a plastic grocery bag of clothes instead of a suitcase or even a backpack. When I furiously packed everything at the cabin, I somehow had the forethought that I’d need a change of clothes that I could easily grab without having to drag my entire suitcase into the hotel.

“Yes, we do. Just one of you?”

Forever and ever until I die, it seems. “Yes,” I choke out.

The young girl has more insight than most her age and she asks, “You okay, Miss?”

Giving her a small smile, I nod, swallow back the shittyness of the day. My phone buzzes with a call once again. It’s either Gretchen or Owen, who’s called me four other times. Not excessive. Still, nice to know he must have gotten my letter. The jerk.

I press ignore then think better of it and just turn off my phone. She raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me. I don’t explain myself.

“I’ll just need your ID and a credit card. Is a king bed okay?”

I pull out both from my wallet and slide them across the counter to her. “Perfect.”

“How many nights?”

I pause. I don’t know.

---