More Than Forever Page 66

I try to let her words sink in, but I can't. I can't fucking understand what she's saying. Maybe I'm dumb, or maybe the pounding in my head is outweighing my brain's functionality. Maybe her voice is being muffled by me drowning above water.

Lucy keeps crying. She keeps saying she's sorry and I don't know why.

"Cameron," Dr. Scott says. "I don't want to weigh you down with too many medical terms so I'm just going to tell you, okay?"

Oh my God. Tell me what? I thought we were done. "Okay."

"The likelihood of Lucy being able to conceive naturally is quite low. Even if she does fall pregnant, the chances of her being able to carry that baby to full term are slim."

"I'm sorry," Lucy cries.

And I break.

But I don't show it.

Because I need to be her strength.

Even when I have none.

***

She cries until she falls asleep. I don't speak; because I know that no words exist that can take away the hurt.

I wait until she's completely out before I leave her. If Mom and Mark felt half of what I felt, then they deserve that wait to be over.

The second my back is turned and my feet hit the floor, it starts to hit.

By the time I open her door, I'm done. Broken. Shattered.

I lean against the wall, not even bothering to acknowledge that Jake and Micky are here. I drop my head in my hands, and I cry. I let it all out. Mom cries too, even though she has no clue why.

Mark's hand on my shoulder and his voice seem to calm me, just enough so that I can look up and face him. "Cameron."

His eyes scan mine, searching for answers. He won't ask. He'll wait until I'm ready. "It's okay, son," he says. And I break all over again.

I fall because I have no strength, but he's there to catch me. His arms are around me and I'm crying. I'm crying so fucking loud, but I can't control it. I can't keep it in. Not anymore. Mom's next to me now, holding my hand.

Micky's sobbing.

"You'll both be okay," Tom says, sitting on the other side of me.

Then a familiar voice gets louder and louder as he walks toward us. Mark moves away. I stand up and turn to my dad. "Dad," I cry, because I've never needed him more in my entire life.

He holds up his finger for me to wait, and only now do I realize he's on the phone. It feels like minutes, no—hours, while we stand there.

"He needs another ten thousand," he says to whoever is on the other end.

We all stay silent, watching, waiting.

His eyes move, and I think they're for me, but they're not. He sees Jake. "I'll call you back," he says, then hangs up.

He walks past me, his hand out ready for Jake. Jake's eyes narrow as he stands up, looking over my dad's shoulder to me. "Dad," I say in shock.

He turns now, finally looking at me. He doesn't even notice my appearance. Doesn't realize that I've fallen apart. "Cameron, what's going on? You look fine. Your mom's been calling my assistant panicked, saying you're in the hospital. What's wrong with you?"

"It's Lucy," I stammer.

His eyebrows bunch in confusion. "Who the hell is Lucy?"

And all the hurt, all the pain, all the suffering, it's replaced by something else. Hate.

"I hate you," I seethe.

"What?"

"You heard me. You dead-beat asshole!"

"Cameron," he says, his hands up in surrender.

I step forward, my fists balled at my sides.

Tom's places a firm hand on my chest, stopping me from moving in.

"I don't know what your problem is, but I had to leave a very important client to come here—"

"FUCK YOU! My girlfriend just had surgery from a fucking miscarriage. We lost a baby! We can't have kids! And all you can think about is your goddamn work! FUCK YOU!"

Tom's hand on my chest pushes harder, or maybe I'm stepping forward. "You need to leave," Tom says to him.

He turns around and walks away, mumbling something about thanking God he didn't stick around.

There's a vice squeezing my heart. It hurts so damn much I can't fucking breathe. Then Mom's in my vision, her hands on my cheeks. "I'm sorry," she says, crying as she does.

"Cameron?" Lucy stands at her doorway looking weak. Probably from the effort of moving.

Instantly, I'm in front of her, helping her to stand.

She looks up at me, tears in her heavy lidded eyes. "You said we."

"What?"

"Bed," she croaks.

I help her back into bed, and pull the covers to her chin. "Tell them to leave, please," she whispers. "But I need you to stay."

*

She's lying on her side, her head to my chest, just like always. "You said we," she says again, her eyes struggling to stay open.

"What do you mean?"

"You've always said we, Cam. Like, we can get through anything. But it's different this time. This time, it's not we. It's just me. You can still have children. I can't."

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR


-CAMERON-

Lucy stays at the hospital for another three days. The nurses won't allow me to stay overnight, but I'm there from beginning to end of visiting hours. Each day, she physically gets better, but emotionally, she's getting worse. On the last day, it's as if she's completely checked out. I try talking to her, but she either ignores me or gets upset. And I don't know what to say or do to make it better.

To make it stop.

To make it right.

Her dad's booked a hotel suite in New Jersey for another two weeks. He doesn't want to risk anything. He wants to be close to the hospital, to the right doctors, if anything should happen.

I zip up her bag and turn to her. "You ready to get out of here, babe?"

She stares out the window and off into the distance.

Her dad picks us up in a rental and takes us to the suite.

"It's time for you to go home, Cameron," she deadpans.

"What do you mean?" I ask, distracted with putting her clothes away.

She takes my hand and sits me on the bed next to her. "I need you to go back home. I need some time alone, away from everything. Away from you."

"Away from me?" I croak.

Her eyes are red and filling with tears as they penetrate mine. She nods. "You need to go home. You need to work. You can't put your life on hold for me. I'll be there in two weeks."

I blow out a heavy breath, as heavy as my heart. "But I want to be with you. I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"No, baby," she whispers. "You didn't do anything. Neither of us did anything. I just need some time to think. I'm just... I just need time to wrap my head around everything. It doesn't mean that I don't love you, because I do. I love you more than you could ever know. I promise that it's not about you."

She reaches up and wipes the wetness off my cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she says.

I try to kiss her, but she pulls away.

She always pulls away.

I want to stay. I want to fight her on this, but I know it won't do any good. If anything, it would only cause bad.

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