Page 37 of The Top of Admiration
“Of course I forgive you,” Cordy said tearfully, throwing her arms around me. I looked around. Everything was clean and orderly, no doubt thanks to Mom and Dad, and potentially Lucy. Everyone else would have either stormed off or gone to comfort the fleeing loved one.
“I will talk to Jules too. I owe her an apology but am super pissed with her as well,” I responded. Cordy sniffed and dragged her sleeve under her nose. “Something’s up there. Maybe just text something supportive and leave her for a few days.”
I nodded, hugging Cordy again, this time tighter. “I am sorry. And I will apologize to Cam, too. He’s Damon’s friend and I’msorry to have dragged him into my … my stuff. I’m going to be better. More responsible.”
Cordy smiled. “Oh Randa, don’t change. Yeah, so the shit hit the fan tonight but there was so much on the boil. Life would be boring if you changed. And it wouldn’t be you.”
Maybe. Maybe not, but my life might be steadier. I might feel organized, like those women on social media who clean the kitchen straight after dinner or don’t wear two pairs of stockings because both pairs have holes in different spots. I smiled back at Cordy.
“Dunno. Being me isn’t really paying off right now. But I did think of a good way to truly thank Cam.”
Cordy looked worried. “Oh please no. Send a fucking card, Miranda, I’m begging you.”
“He won’t get hurt. Hear me out.” I smiled at her excitedly. “But I’ll need your help. Everyone’s help.”
We shared a cup of tea while plotting, then headed off to our rooms. Damon had returned home for the night. Cordy often wanted to be alone when she was upset, and I suspect she wanted us to be alone when I returned.
It was late but I decided to begin my damage control anyway. Jules and Cam were responsible adults who no doubt had their ‘do not disturb’ on, so my texts wouldn’t wake them. I’d deal with Mom, Dad, and Lucy tomorrow.
Me: Jules, I’m sorry for what I said. I love you and even though I’m angry at you, I understand why you said all of that. If you need me, I’m here xx
Me: Cam, I’m so sorry for everything. I injured you, ghosted you, and subjected you to my family drama. Thank you for helping send me to France. I’m sorryabout the awkward ‘pretend you don’t know’ thing. Please forgive me.
No word from Juliet, but Cam responded immediately.
Cam W: Forgive you? I was never mad. I’m just trying to figure out how to get injured again if it means hearing from you. Get me tickets to the next Bard blow up. And for the record, I’m not great at pretending I don’t want you.
Me: I swear I’m not trying to injure you for attention. That’s just an unfortunate coincidence. But for what it’s worth, I like hearing from you too. You’re kind of impossible not to like, you know that?
Cam: I’m taking you out, Randa. You’ve officially run out of ways to injure me, so it’s safe now. Saturday night? Sleep well, beautiful.
Wow. This was like a text from a boyfriend.
Me: Saturday good. Chat tomorrow with details. Goodnight x
I instantly felt bad as soon as I hit send. My response was like I was organizing a work meeting, and the kiss at the end was not enough to balance out the officious tone. Shit. Before I could change my mind, I located an appropriate meme, captioned it, and sent it.
Me: When you’ve had a rough night and he calls you beautiful.
I attached an image of a bedraggled cat, his huge wild eyes opened fully with a strange downward-turned mouth. He looked a mess, which was fitting, because I felt like a mess.
I smiled, feeling flushed, and changed Cam’s name from “Cam W” to just “Cam.” He was the default Cam now. Bad Cam became “Cam R,” which was a pointless change anyway given I’d blocked him.
Before I could drift off into a strangely settled sleep, my phone buzzed once more. Cam had sent an image of a cartoon prince staring dreamily at his princess with the caption “When she has no clue how beautiful she is.”
Torn between responding with a heart or a “ha ha,” I opted for the heart. Goodnight, dear Cam.
Chapter 31: Miranda — Plotting afoot
Strong reasons make strong actions
King John, William Shakespeare
Me: You still good for Friday night?
Jules: Absolutely. Seamus’s outfit is sorted and I’m obviously set for mine.
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