Page 82 of When Love Gives You Lemons
“You’re right, you’re totally, completely right. I’m a terrible person, I—”
“No, don’t do that thing. Don’t turn yourself into a martyr.” I hold my hand out in front of him to stop him from talking. “I’m not everyone else in your life who is going to abandon you. I’m not that person. But I deserve a real explanation, I—”
“I wanted attention,” he says quickly. His eyes widen as if shocked he admitted it. “I was feeling so insecure about Fielder. It’s not an excuse at all, really, but I’ve been asking you for months to define our relationship, to be exclusive, to really commit to me becauseIlove you, Ricky. And I told you I loved you. Remember that day, two months ago? We were hiking at Snow Lake, and we stopped to lay in the sun by the water for a while. You were holding my hand, and we were talking about everything and nothing, and you told me how comfortable you felt and that you hadn’t felt like this in a really long time, and I told you I hadn’t ever felt like this. You leaned up and looked me in the eyes and kissed me like I’d never been kissed before. And I told you I was so in love with you. We’d been together at that point for like four months, and maybe it was too soon, so I get that you couldn’t say it back, but now, after seeing you with Fielder, it all makes sense. So I freaked out and—I made a mistake.”
I remember that day at Snow Lake, how beautifully blue the sky was, the dichotomy between the snowcapped mountains and the blistering heat of the sun beating down on our bare chests. When Cam told me he loved me, it scared me. The last time I was in love, with Fielder, I hurt him and ran away. Was I ready to give in again? Are there other types of love? Because I did care about Cam, and I have grown to love him. Just in a different way.
Seeing his vulnerability and honesty now, I realize how my inactions have caused him pain. “I’m sorry, Cam. I never meant to hurt you.”
“And I never meant to hurt you, Ric. Really.” He takes both of my hands. “I do think that, if you gave us a chance, a real chance, you could be happy.”
“I really thought I had,” I admit.
He nods. “I know you did. Do you think you could love me?”
His question, though not unfounded, catches me off guard. “I could, one day.”
“Are you ready to give up on me?” His voice breaks, and I shake my head no.
In truth, I don’t think I ever really gave Cam a fair chance, and I did really have fun with him. Being with him the last six months got me through a dark period. How can I walk away from that without giving it a shot?
“Do you love Fielder?”
I don’t answer because I know saying it out loud would hurt him.
He lifts our still-joined hands. “You’ll see—thisis where you should be.” He kisses both palms. “We should get ready, though. Today’ll be great. Sailing along the coast, seeing the famed grottos!” Before he lets go of us, he says, “If you need space to figure things out with Fielder while we’re here, you have it. No restrictions. It’s the least I can do for you after what I did. But I’m not giving up, either. Game on.”
What the hell just happened?!
The thing about Dramamine is that you need to take it at least a half hour before you get on a boat for it to have any impact; if you take it once you start to feel seasick, it won’t work. I learned that at a young age when Dad saved all year to take us on a family cruise and I spent four out of the five days green in bed.
Cam did not expect to get seasick, so by the time thesuperyacht pulled away from the docks at the Amalfi seaport, it was too late.
Now I’m in one of the small bedrooms below deck, rubbing his back as he moans. Despite the air-conditioning on full blast, the air is thick and smells like acrid vomit. I dip in and out of holding my breath.
“Oooh, bleeps, iown wan yew mids ow.” His voice crescendos and crashes like the bow of the yacht.
“Scusi?” My hands rub his back in concentric circles.
He picks his head up, but it looks delicate, dangling like meat on a skewer. “You can go, please. I don’t want you to miss out.”
“No way, babe.”
“Iwantyou to go.” His head crashes back down into the mattress. He pulls the comforter up between his legs and cuddles with a tiny corner of the fabric. “Ughhhh. One of us should have a good time. Plus, it’s Sienna’s big day. She needs you.”
“Her big day is Saturday,” I reassure. “I don’t want you to be alone.”
“I need sleep,” he mumbles. “Can’t help me sleep.”
“I’ll stay ’til you fall asleep; then I’ll go. And if you need me, just text and I’ll be back in a second. Deal?”
With a half-hearted thumbs-up, he moans and closes his eyes.
After a solid ten minutes of labored breathing and groans, he elicits the tiniest of snores, and I slowly start to slide off the bed. Before leaving, I crank up the air and turn on a fan for circulation.
Shutting the door behind me, I bump into Sienna. “Is he okay?”
I shake my head. “It’s rotten in there. But hopefully.”
