Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“I know you would. But what I don’t understand is how you seem so well adjusted and I’m still dreaming of plane crashes.”
He sounds so angry toward himself… as if this is a weakness he can’t control.
I move across the garage to him, putting my hand on his forearm. “There are no rules as to what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to grieving or handling loss. And I can assure you, I’m not totally well adjusted.”
“Maybe not,” he says, eyes roaming over my face. “But you sure as shit have shown resilience like I’ve never seen before.”
I’m both pleased by his compliment and sad that it makes him feel lower about himself. I’m no psychologist but if I had to guess, I’d say Camden hasn’t processed the loss of his team very well. I don’t know what he’s done over the last year. I know he’s continued to play hockey, but past that… has he gotten help?
I know I have. Not only from my support group, but from friends, family and a great therapist. Both Travis and I saw counselors to help wade through our grief, pick up the broken pieces and put them back together again.
Still… there are moments I feel as broken as the night I got the call that the plane had gone down. Those times are thankfully fewer and farther between.
“Did you talk to anyone after?” I ask hesitantly.
“By anyone, you mean…” His words trail off deliberately, prodding me to seek clarity.
“A professional.”
“No.”
That’s it. Just… no.
“Family?” I ask.
Camden makes a scoffing sound. “My dad and brothers aren’t exactly the type to discuss feelings.”
That’s an interesting thing to say. “Why not?”
I’m relieved to see a genuine smile on his face. “They’re great… don’t get me wrong. It’s just, they have this mentality that feelings are stupid and that which doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.” He says that with a robotic, nasal tone, as if he’s repeating something learned in a handbook.
“Why are they that way?”
“Army. My dad retired and both my brothers are active duty. They have a mindset that you tough things out. You deal with it and move the hell on. You don’t have to air it out to fix it, you only have to be stronger than it.”
I find that incredibly sad. “Your mom?”
“Died when I was ten.”
And that right there explains it. Camden comes from a family that buries feelings and I’m not sure he’s ever been permitted to hurt.
I assess the situation with all the information I’ve learned and consider the expression on Camden’s face. He looks ill at ease and I don’t want him to associate bad feelings with spending time with me.
“I’m here if you ever want to talk. But I’m also still here if you don’t want to talk about it either.”
The relief on his face is instantaneous and it transfers into his smile. “Fair enough.”
“Okay… let’s get this finished. I’ve got to head out in about an hour to pick up Travis.”
Camden looks at his watch. “I’ve got dinner plans, so yeah… let’s knock this stuff out and then I’ll handle the smoke detectors.”
Dinner plans?
As in a date?
I want to ask but it’s none of my business.
And then something hits me and I’m appalled by how much I’m bothered by it.
What if Camden has a girlfriend?
I suddenly feel terrible for taking up his time. He’s got his own life to live. “You know what… I can finish this all later. And I’m sure I can get the batteries in myself. I’m pretty good on a ladder.”
Camden frowns. “I’m good to stay for a while. I don’t have to leave right now.”
“I know,” I say, turning my back on him and blindly rifling through boxes. My voice sounds unnecessarily shrill. “I don’t want you to waste your time here when you—”
My words are cut off when Camden has my wrist in his large hand and he’s turning me to face him. “Did I say something wrong?”
I whirl the rest of the way and he lets me go. “No. Of course not. It’s just… you said you had plans and I don’t want to disrupt you.”
Camden laughs. “Not a big deal. I’m meeting some of the guys for dinner, so I can be a little late.”
Oh, sweet Jesus. That’s relief coursing through me that he’s meeting friends and not a date.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“Speaking of the guys,” Camden drawls.
I blink away my thoughts, plastering on a smile. “What’s up?”
“They’re throwing me a birthday party Friday night. Have you met Hendrix’s new girlfriend, Stevie?”
I shake my head.
“It’s going to be at her bar. You should come and hang out with us. Stevie’s cool and you’ll know a bunch of people there.”
A trill of excitement buzzes through me. I haven’t gone out in a long time, merely to have fun. And it would be great to celebrate Camden’s birthday.