Page 20 of My Sweetest Agony
Drew had secrets.
The funny, affable man I fell in love with, who was always so open and giving in every aspect of his life, kept important things from me, and I can’t bear the thought that more might be buried in those boxes.
Better Cam find them than me.
He offers me a sympathetic look and nods, then watches me until I slip out into the hallway to find something else to occupy my day.
I wander to the living room, plop down on the sofa, and flip on the television, but even after an hour of mindlessly scrolling through channels, my gaze keeps drifting to the mantle.
What other secrets were you keeping, Drew?
The thought of what could have made him go down to that area of town that night when he told me he got called into the hospital makes my stomach roil.
I try to concentrate on the TV, on the romantic comedy with the klutzy yet lovable heroine and the dashing hero who finds her charming and adorable rather than annoying the way she thinks she is to everyone around her.
It’s exactly the type of movie I would have loved to watch with Marlo before. We would have laughed at the cheesy lines and swooned nonetheless. We would have talked about our love lives and her current flame, and it would have been easy.
But nothing is anymore.
I watch the movie almost in a trance. Barely seeing it while my own love story with Drew plays in my head.
The way he approached me at the nurses’ station when I was stopping by to deliver flowers and got hopelessly lost, since it isn’t usually something I do personally.
How his eyes sparkled as brilliantly as his smile as he introduced himself and asked if I needed help.
That slight curl of his lips as he shamelessly flirted and asked me out within five minutes of meeting me.
Despite the heaviness sitting on my chest, my lips pull into a smile.
Because that was what he always did to me.
Lifted me up.
Made me feel worshipped and worthy and wanted.
He completed me and my life in a way that I didn’t know could happen.
And as the movie comes to an end, so does my ability to sit here, pretending like I’m not miserable.
All I want is to climb into bed and close myself off from the world as much as possible for as long as possible. But as I climb to my feet and make my way down the hallway, one glance through the open door of Drew’s office stops me cold.
7
IVY
Camden sits exactly where I left him on the couch, and the light shining in from the window across from him makes the late afternoon sunlight fall on his face. A single tear trickles down his left cheek as he stares at a frame held in his hands. They tremble slightly. His jaw is locked, like he’s trying to make them both stop but can’t quite manage to get his body to obey him.
He looks so sad.
So lost.
I recognize it because it’s exactly how I’ve felt since that night.
Exactly how it seems like I’ll always feel.
But I should keep walking.
I should go to the bedroom, pull the covers up around me, snuggle Drew’s pillow, and forget what I see.
