Page 102 of Fault Lines
“Here you go, Livi, just the way you like it.” Nate’s smile was luminous. “On the house.”
As he rang me up, I could feel the temperature in the room dropping. Cam watched every move, storm brewing in his eyes. Nate either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Oh, sorry, Mr. James,” Nate added, feigning politeness, “I didn’t realize you’d be here. If Livi had mentioned you were coming, I would have made you something too. I could now, if you’d like?”
Cam’s lips barely moved. “No, thank you,” he gritted out. I could see the way his hand curled into a fist. “We should get going. I’m taking my wife away for a romantic weekend.”
He grabbed my hand, almost possessive, and strode to the door. I shot Nate a last, helpless look before he vanished from view.
Back in the car, the silence was suffocating. All my anger and humiliation bubbled up at once. At Cam’s jealousy, at Nate’s reckless game, at myself for being caught in the middle.
The city whipped past as Cam drove too fast, his jaw set.
“Could you slow down, please?” I asked, my voice tiny.
“What the fuck was that, Livi?” He didn’t look at me, his grip white-knuckled on the wheel.
“He was just being friendly.”
“That wasn’t friendly. He’s into you.”
That caught me off guard. I expected Cam to accuse me of cheating, not just to be jealous of the idea.
“No, he isn’t.”
Cam slapped the steering wheel, frustration boiling over. “He is. I can see it. Why haven’t you ever told him you’re married?”
“I have,” I said, the words true enough. Nate absolutely knew.
“Funny. Seems like he forgot that detail. How many lattes does he make you every week?”
“I don’t count, Cam. He’s just nice.”
“Because he wants you,” Cam shot back, his temper rising. “I don’t want you going in there anymore. I’m serious.”
My heart thudded. I couldn’t just walk away from Timeless Treasures. I loved the atmosphere—the work, the coffee, the people. I liked having Mr. Porter around, and I liked the comfort of being with Nate, even if only as a friend most days. Especially on Thursdays, when I let myself want more. I couldn’t give that up just because Cam was suddenly insecure. Not unless he was suddenly ready to give up his side of things, too.
I set my jaw. “I like it there. It makes me happy.”
He shook his head. “That guy is going to try something with you. I’m not having it. No more bookstore. Buy your books online, or pick some other shop.”
I folded my hands in my lap, refusing to let this go. “I like it there,” I said again, steady now. “I like Mr. Porter. I like the coffee. I’m not going to stop.”
He tried to cut through my resolve. “Livi,” he warned, but I was already done. I cut him off.
“Let’s not talk about it now. Can we just… get through the weekend, please? I don’t want another fight.”
Cam let the silence fester between us. He was used to me folding, giving in—but I wasn’t going to. Not about this. I needed something that was just mine, untouched by all the damage he’d done.
And I needed the paycheck. It was becoming more and more obvious how fragile everything was between Cam and me. I might need Timeless Treasures even more, when things finally, inevitably broke apart.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
We’d booked a lovely little room at a charming bed and breakfast, the kind that felt like it had grown up out of the woods themselves. Cozy, soft, giving full-on cottage core vibes, with a clawfoot tub nestled in an attached bath and a quiet view of the trees from our balcony. I loved it instantly. Friday night we’d gone into town for dinner, just a small restaurant, nothing fancy, then wandered the quiet streets like we used to, hand in hand. It was nice—not just the food and the walk, but the way we’d slipped into old habits, talking and dreaming as if we were still those kids at the beginning of us. Our future, just the two of us, growing old together. No talk of babies, no big families, no outside chatter. Just Cam and me.
For those few hours, I could let myself forget everything—the ache, the nagging sense of inadequacy that never quite left me. I pretended so well I almost believed it, at least until morning. That night, we’d made love and Cam had whispered how much I meant to him as he moved inside me, and I’d wrapped myself around him, wanting to soak up every second. When I nudged him for another round, he’d laughed and rolled right over for me. Afterward, we sat together in the tub, steam curling around us, and it felt like a second honeymoon. I was happy we still had a whole day ahead to enjoy.
I woke early and slipped out onto the balcony, cup of coffee in hand, just staring out at untouched woods when Cam joined me with his own mug.
