Page 54 of Married As Puck
His head turns sharply toward me, and for the first time in days, I see the storm in his eyes. It’s not just anger. It’s fear.
He swallows, throat bobbing, but his lips stay sealed.
“Talk to me,” I plead, softer now, lowering my voice to a whisper. “Please. Don’t shut me out.”
“Why do you care? It’s not your problem,” he says, closing his eyes.
“You’re my husband,” I swallow, “fake or not, we’re stuck together, and I cannot watch you ruin your life like this.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, chest rising and falling too quickly. The cigarette burns down to the filter, and he curses under his breath, crushing it out.
When he finally speaks, his voice is raw, jagged, like it’s being dragged out of him against his will. “Something’s going to happen, Brie. I don’t know when, or how bad it’s gonna hit, but I can feel it breathing down my neck. And I can’t… I can’t stop it.”
The words hang between us, thick and heavy. My chest tightens, but instead of fear, all I feel is relief—relief that he’s finally letting me see the cracks.
I reach for him, my hand brushing his arm. “Then let me carry some of it with you.”
His laugh is low, broken, bitter. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
I meet his eyes, steady and unflinching. “I know exactly what I’m asking. I want the truth. I want you. All of you. Even the parts that scare you.”
Something shifts in his gaze then like the dam he’s been holding back is one second from breaking.
His laugh dies too quickly, leaving silence behind. His shoulders are tense, muscles coiled like he’s ready for a fight he doesn’t want to admit is coming.
“I’m just worried.”
“Worried?” I push gently, my hand still resting on his arm. “About what?”
He shakes his head, dragging a hand through his hair like the motion might shake the thoughts loose.
“I don’t know. That’s the problem.” He exhales hard, leaning against the counter like it’s the only thing holding him up. “Even before that damn event, I’ve had this… itch. This feeling like something’s off. Like something’s about to go wrong and I can’t see it yet. And I hate it. I hate not being able to control it.”
The confession makes my stomach twist. Not because he’s saying something specific, but because Cameron never admits to uncertainty. From the little I know, he seems to thrive on control, on being three steps ahead. For him to stand here and admit this? That rattles me more than anything.
I bite my lip, considering him. “So instead of talking about it, you chain-smoke and try to burn a hole in your lungs?”
His glare flicks toward me, sharp. “It helps me think.”
“No, it helps you hide.” My voice rises without my permission. “Don’t twist it, Cameron. You’re not working through anything. You’re burying it, and hoping I won’t notice. But I do notice. I notice everything.”
He goes still, eyes narrowing as if I’ve just crossed some invisible line. His silence presses on me, daring me to back down.
But I don’t. I take another step closer until my chest nearly brushes his. “You think keeping me in the dark is protecting you or me? It’s not. It’s pushing me away.”
His jaw clenches so tight I can practically hear his teeth grinding. “Damn it, Brie, you don’t get it!”
“Then make me get it!” I snap, my voice breaking with the frustration I’ve been holding in. “Stop assuming I can’t handle it. Stop deciding for me what I can and can’t know. I’m not fragile, Cameron. And I’m not just some accessory to your life. I’m inthis, whether you like it or not. It concerns me just as much as it concerns you, don’t you get it?”
For a long moment, he just stares at me, breathing hard. His chest rises and falls like he’s holding back words—or maybe like he’s holding back the urge to scream.
Then, finally, his voice drops to a low rasp. “There’s been incidents…it’s subtle but it’s there…present enough to keep me rattled and second guessing myself and I am worried that this…whatever this is, would affect––I don’t know––but I can’t stop it.”
His words sink into me, heavy and unnerving, but also clarifying. I soften, just slightly.
“And you think carrying all that weight alone makes you stronger?”
He looks away, muttering, “It’s the only way I know.”
