Page 18 of The Man in Mom's Bed
When night falls,Katie lies curved against me, her breath soft as she dreams. The scholarship letter sits on the nightstand like evidence of a crime I’m about to commit. I stare up at theceiling, countering her heartbeats against my chest, memorizing the softness of her skin and her weight against me.
She could have everything. Classes full of kids who have never had to wash their mom’s puke off the floor, study groups that meet in coffee shops instead of trailer parks and garages. A future that’s more than brake changes and compromise.
I can see her in a classroom now, raising her hand, her brilliant mind finally getting fed by something more than just survival and microwave dinners. She’ll laugh with normal girls her own age about boys from sociology, not older men who kissed them in their mother’s kitchen. I picture everything she could be without me—the old anchor just weighing her down.
Love is not possession. Love is freedom.
The thought burns in my chest, my heart pained with every breath I take.
My eyes stay open until morning arrives like the date of an execution. Katie wakes happily, presses her lips against my jaw and throat, and mutters about inventory orders and appointment scheduling. She’s more than capable of running the garage. Capable ofso muchmore.
I watch her as she stands, slips into one of my oversized shirts, and grabs her hairbrush. Such beauty, beyond anything I could have ever imagined being mine.
“Katie, we need to talk.” The words break the silence like a rock dropped into still water.
She turns, her intelligent eyes sharp as blades. She already knows what’s coming. “Cam, no.”
“Katie—”
“Whatever you’re about to say,don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to be noble, trying to protect me.”
“You’re eighteen, Katie. With a full scholarship!”
“And a ring on my finger!” She presents it like a weapon, flashing the rock in my face. “Yourring. The one you put there days ago when you promised—”
“You can keep it,” I tell her. “Keep the ring, but go to school. Live the life you were meant to live.”
“That life is meant to bewith you!”
“No.” I’m on my feet now, putting distance between us before I break and give in. “You should be in classrooms, not garages, Katie. With people your age. Not with—”
“Not with what? The man I love?”
She’s got a point. I know it, she knows it. The pain is almost too much to bear.
“You’ll find someone else, Katie. Someone better who doesn’t come with grease under his fingernails.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”
But I do. And that’s the worst part. I get to decide because I’m the one with the power to walk away and save her from a future she’ll regret in a few years when she’s looking back and wondering what she missed. Wondering about the opportunities I cost her.
“This discussion is over.” I grab my keys and head for the door. “Take the scholarship, Katie. Go to school. Be an eighteen-year-old girl.”
And here it is. Love as freedom. And freedom as pain.
I’m halfway out the door when she calls out to me. “You think leaving makes you a hero? It makes you a coward, Cam. Acoward!”
I don’t turn around. I can’t. Seeing her face will break me, force me to be selfish and keep her. My feet move one after the other, fighting the war going on within me, dragging me downstairs to the truck.
The engine roars to life, and I drive. No destination, just movement. There’s an overlook just outside of town that givesa view of everything—the trailer park, the college campus just beyond that, and my garage set right in the middle like a manifestation of the choice I’ve just forced her to make.
My heart pounds like it’s about to explode. I lean back and close my eyes, take a deep breath, and fight to calm down.
I just did the right thing, right?
My phone rings, nearly causing me to jump out of my skin. Katie’s name on the display makes my chest tighten.
I don’t answer.
