Page 76 of Hard Rock Sin
"I dunno. Maybe. I just know that with this whole politics thing, it's going to get complicated."
His expression grew downcast again.
"You sounded happy for your mom at dinner," I said.
"I am." He paused. "Or, I know that I should be happy for her. But things are going to go back to the way they were before."
"Before?" I jumped on the last word, hoping to finally get some understanding. "What were things like before?"
"Shitty," Cameron said bluntly. He turned away from me and flopped down on the edge of the bed. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Whatever. It's fine. You don't want to hear my sob story."
I sat down on the bed next to him, leaving some space between us, not wanting to crowd him.
"You told me your parents moved out when you were sixteen. That they were always traveling for business. When they first showed up, you mentioned that you didn't talk to them much."
Cameron looked at me in surprise. "You remember all that?"
"I've been piecing things together," I admitted. "I'd begun to think your parents were these horribly distant, cold, parental figures. But I met them and now... I don't know what to think."
"They're not terrible," Cameron said. "I love my parents."
"I sense abutin there somewhere."
He let out a deep breath, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.
"My parents wished they'd never had me."
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ialmost thoughtI'd heard wrong. How could Cameron think his parents didn't want him?
"They never approved of me," he continued, ignoring my shock. "I was an embarrassment."
"I'm sure they don't think of you that way," I protested.
"They do."
Cameron's eyes were flat and dull. He wasn't upset. He spoke as if he were reciting facts.
"You already know half the story. My father was in business. All high powered and shit. My mother was involved in all these well known charities. They were invited to fancy events full of powerful people. And they in turn invited those powerful people to our home."
"What's wrong with that?"
"I was never allowed to show my face," he said bluntly. "I had to stay in my room. They didn't want me having dinner with their important guests." He let out a rueful laugh. "Didn't want me to embarrass them."
My heart clenched in my chest. "I'm sure that's not true."
"I don't think people even know they have a son," he said quietly. "My mom would get honored with some society award and they'd tell me not to attend the event. When interviewers asked my dad about his family, he never once mention having kids."
I scooted closer until my thighs pressed against his. I took his hand in mine not saying anything, just listening.
"I can't blame them," he said with a rueful laugh. "I was a wild child, with my crazy hair colors, always dressing in black like some emo-goth kid, skipping class to play in shitty bands with my friends. I was never going to be the clean cut, Ivy League prep school son they always wanted. I was a disappointment."
"I can't believe that." I squeezed his hand. "I saw the way you were around your parents. You're a wonderful son."
"I thought things had been getting better. Dad's retired. Mom cut back on her charity work. Fewer fancy events and parties and ceremonies. They actually didn't mind being seen with me in public every once in a while."
"I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding. They took us both out to dinner."
