She didn't need to have gone to college to know that her husband was cheating on her. She didn't have more than a high school degree, but she was pretty sure that colleges didn't offer courses like Fidelity 101 or Your Spouse and Trust.
Trust. Spouse. Fidelity. Cheating.
Cheating.
She was the cheating one, really. She was the one who'd arrived in town and started a relationship with a man already sleeping with someone. Didn't that make her cheating? Did being married really change the fact that she'd ruined Cam and Ash's romance?
So maybe she didn't like Ash. Maybe she hated him. Maybe he was a misogynistic, arrogant and pathetic son of a bitch who probably had never had to truly struggle in his life. But Ash must have redeeming qualities somewhere, because there'd been something that had drawn Cam to him in the first place. She'd tried and tried, in the past few weeks, to think of at least one attractive quality, and so far her efforts had been in vain.
This wasn't the first time Lillian had had to deal with infidelity. It was the first time, however, that she'd ever felt like the guilty party.
The roses were blooming, and seeing their petal lips raised to the sky made Lillian smile. She'd worked hard to expand Bluebell Farm's pathetic field space, and seeing the rows and rows of high-quality flowers reaching hungry leaves to the sun always reminded her that hard work always paid off.
Something Ash probably knew nothing about.
The sunny day suddenly felt darker as this angry thought entered her mind. She was disturbed from her malicious musings by the sound of her husband walking up the path to their farm. Lillian tried to shove all thoughts of Ash aside as she greeted him.
"Look who graces me with his presence!" she called out cheerfully, dusting some soil off her apron before wrapping her arms around Cam. He smiled and responded with a kiss. Moments like these seemed to erase—
"Ash is coming over for dinner. I said you wouldn't mind. Is that okay?"
-certain people from her mind.
Her arms seemed to be frozen around Cam's neck, and she struggled to regain movement. He disentangled himself from her grasp, and as he did so, her arms fell to her sides. She could feel her teeth chewing the inside of her lip in irritation.
"I hope so, Cam," she said, trying to disguise the annoyance in her tone. "All we have is a few leftovers from spring and some milk and eggs. I shipped everything else today because I wasn't expecting…" she paused, "guests."
Cam knew she didn't like Ash. Cam seemed to be amused by her hatred, yes, but he knew it. Why would he invite him over?
"How about some doria? Ash likes doria."
Lillian's lips tightened. "Fine, I'll make doria. I'm almost done out here. Can you go inside and set the table? I assume he'll be here soon."
As Cam returned to their home, the tension in Lillian's shoulders didn't relax until she was finished giving the flowers their second watering. Maybe dinner, plain and friendly, wouldn't be too bad. Ash had seemed to be making an effort lately—it wouldn't kill her to be cordial, either.
By the time the doria was simmering on the stove, Lillian had almost convinced herself that she and Ash were friends. By the time Ash had arrived and was complimenting her good housekeeping, she was ready to strangle him.
Cam noticed her face whiten in anger and almost imperceptibly shook his head at her. Calm down. She took a deep breath and plastered an unnatural smile on her face and thanked Ash for his chauvinistic compliment.
"Wow, how did you know I liked doria?" Ash asked, surprised, as they sat down.
"Cam told me."
Ash shot Cam an appreciative smile. "Yeah, Cam's really thoughtful like that."
What, so now everything was out in the open? Ash was practically declaring his love for her husband with that sappy smile and comment. Her fingers tightened their grip around her fork.
"It's a simple recipe," she said in lieu of yelling at him out of term. "We didn't have much lying around the house. If I hadn't known you were coming for dinner, I probably would have made it anyway."
An awkward silence descended upon the table, though Cam seemed immune. He scooped another forkful of stew into his mouth as Ash and Lillian glared at each other.
"Well, I'm glad it's what you decided to make anyway," Ash tried.
"You're welcome," Lillian snapped.
The evening only went downhill from there. Conversation was forced and meaningless except when Cam deigned to speak up. Ash hung onto his every word like the lovestruck puppy he was, and Lillian could barely keep her gratin down.
Dinner's end couldn't come soon enough. Lillian waited by the door she'd flung open as Ash said goodbye, his arm slung around Cam's back a little more intimately than his status of "best friend" could allow, in Lillian's opinion.
"Good night, Ash," she hinted not-so-subtly, and she caught the glare that Ash gave her before he quickly he covered it up.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Cam," he said instead.
"I know, Ash." Was it wishful thinking on her part, or did Cam actually sound impatient? She smirked as her husband shrugged himself out of Ash's familiar embrace. "Good night."
Ash sulked out the door, and Lillian practically slammed it behind him. Switching enemies, she glared at Cam and crossed her arms, prepared to berate him for the unpleasant evening.
"I love you." He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her brow as he did so. "Thank you for doing that for me."
She closed her eyes and silently forgave him, at least for today. It really was all for him, because despite a specific secret she knew he was keeping from her, she loved him more than she thought she could love any person, thing or idea.
He gently kissed her lips, then not so gently, and then he was pulling her towards the bed, probably before Ash was even off the farm boundaries.
She tried to keep Ash out of her head as Cam did things like kiss her bare stomach, but her hatred for the other farmer and the fierce, possessive love she felt for her husband prevented her from doing so. Did Ash know how sweet Cam's moan was? Did he know that Cam could gasp the filthiest curse words when lips were pressed to a certain spot below his earlobe? Did Ash know what it was like to hear Cam whisper his name like a mantra, like he was being worshipped?
Lillian did. It broke her heart to think that Ash probably knew, too. He'd known Cam far longer, after all.
She waited for her husband to fall asleep before she stroked his hair out of his face and whispered brokenhearted "I love you"s to him before the fatigue from the long day hit her.
Lillian would never forget the moment when she finally caught her first serious boyfriend in bed with some other girl. Suddenly, all the odd phone calls, missed dates and lonely nights made sense. Before, she, naïve and ignorant, had tried to pass them all off as paranoia on her part, or misunderstandings. Seeing the girl gasp and pull up Lillian's covers around her chest had forced all the suspicious events to click into place. Lillian felt like a veteran of infidelity now. She wasn't the pretty hick from the farm down the road that you could mess around with. She was an independent, level-headed woman who knew how to run a business, and could recognize the signs.
When Ash tried to laugh harder than Lillian at one of Cam's rare jokes, the seed of suspicion had been planted. When Cam lost his hat and Ash somehow was able to find it, the suspicion grew. When Monday rolled around and she returned from foraging to find Ash and Cam, who should have been in the city, laughing at the café, she figured it out. When she woke up in the middle of the night once, wondering why she was shivering only to find an empty bedspace and a door that hadn't been quite closed, she knew where the missing family member was.
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, because if Lillian had moved in and distracted Cam from Ash long enough for him to agree to marry her, that was supposed to mean she'd won. Instead, she felt like she'd stolen Cam away from that hateful Ash. She knew if she asked Cam about it, he'd be honest. Cam was a difficult person to read, but not because he ever hid his true thoughts. He spoke his mind, whether his mind was being rude or being kind, and maybe that was why it was so difficult to be strong and confront the man. Because if her suspicions were true, and Cam admitted he and Ash were sneaking around behind her back, what then? Where would that leave her? She'd be the dumb farmer to mess around with again, but more importantly, what would Cam do?
Realizing such thoughts were making her feel sick, Lillian shook them off and continued milking her cows. As she poured the milk into canisters to be stored and shipped, the feeling of nausea hadn't left. Her stomach roiled unpleasantly, and she figured it out in a burst of rage.
The doria. Damn that Ash! It always came down to him, it seemed.
She unfortunately still had the rest of her animals to take care of before she could do something about her food poisoning, and by the time she'd finished, Cam had already left to relax by the river. She thought about taking her horse to get to Konohana faster, but the idea of moving up and down on horseback made her feel even queasier.
By the time she'd tottered to her husband's usual hangout, the queasiness had only marginally subsided.
"Cam," she called, gingerly stepping down the ledge to where he was reclining. He looked up and smiled at her, a smile that made her heart clench.
"I'm going to walk to the Konohana clinic."
"What's wrong?"
"That damned doria gave me food poisoning. I checked, and we're out of basic meds, so I need to go pick some up." She sighed. They had plenty of animal medicine, of course, but people medicine? Perish the thought! "I don't think it'll take very long, but the walk up and down the mountain might take some time if I don't feel better in a bit. Gimme maybe five hours and I can be back for our date." She checked her watch. Nine o'clock.
He nodded, and she set off. By the time she'd reached the summit at nine thirty, the sick feeling had subsided. She briefly debated turning around and returning him, ultimately deciding to stock up on medicine and get the nausea checked out regardless.
She reached Konohana at ten and the clinic at ten fifteen. She bought a decent amount of over-the-counter drugs—ten forty-five—and Ayame gave her a check-up. She was finished at eleven twenty and walking down to the Bluebell gates a little past noon.
Lillian glanced behind her at the river. Cam was nowhere to be found. He wasn't at home, nor was he visiting Laney at the café. Her heart sank and her legs felt like lead as she walked to Jessica's Livestock to inquire about Ash's whereabouts.
It was like a slap in the face when Cheryl told her Cam was helping Ash in the barn. She thanked the girl—who didn't care, stupid brat—and left, hopping the fence to the animals' grazing pen. She stood in front of the barn's not-quite closed door. It was eerily silent within, and while that should have soothed her doubts, she felt heartbroken. She slipped inside and leaned her back against the door.
Cam was in the process of getting dressed, and his hands froze from where they were buttoning his shirt when he caught sight of her. Ash, meanwhile, was lying in a distant pile of hay in nothing but his boxers, and hadn't seemed to have seen her yet.
"What's the matter, Cam?" he asked sarcastically from his slump in the hay. "Can't find your hat again?"
"I'm pregnant," Lillian said quietly. Not so quietly that Ash couldn't hear her, though. She heard the crunching of hay as he rushed to put his clothes on.
Cam's arms unfroze themselves, and they continued buttoning. He smiled. "That's great news, Lil. I'm so glad to hear that."
Lillian felt rebel tears stinging the corners of her eyes. "You jackass," she said, just as softly. "You could at least pretend to be sorry."
Cam shrugged. "You already knew. I could see that." Ash called out something in confusion, but the couple ignored him.
Lillian swallowed her tears and exited the barn with what was left of her dignity. He was right. She'd known. She'd also known that he knew. And it still hurt as much as it had when she'd initially figured it out. Worse, even. It was something else completely to witness the cheating.
She waited for him to come home, and she wasn't surprised when he did. He could at least have had the decency to stay at the hotel for a night, but no, that wasn't Cam's way. He wouldn't think about anything else except returning to where he wanted to be at the moment. And Lillian knew he wanted to be at home, with her, the bastard.
She'd practiced how she'd turn around to glare at him when he entered, but when the door actually clicked shut behind him, all she could do was say, "The baby's due in winter."
He smiled and removed his hat. "Are you feeling okay? Did Ayame have anything to say?"
"I'm feeling fine." What was she doing? "Ayame just gave me some basic health tips; says she'll come by tomorrow to give me a full run-down with you."
"Any news, I mean."
"No, it's way too early for, I dunno, pictures or something. Just the basics."
"Just the basics?"
"Just the basics."
They smiled at each other. Cam's was more genuine and sane.
"Why did you do it, Cam?" Lillian mumbled after a few minutes of smiling.
He shrugged. "You'd already figured it out."
She could feel anger starting to bubble in her stomach, but she fought to keep control. "And that made it okay?"
More shrugging. "You didn't seem to mind."
There went the control. "You didn't think I'd mind if I knew my husband was cheating on me? You didn't think I'd mind just because-"
"If you minded, you should have said something," Cam said coldly.
"Are you really that dense? I don't think you are, so why are you pretending you're stupid?"
"Don't call me stupid."
"You are stupid!" she screamed, balling her fists. Her entire form trembled with rage, and she could feel her heart pounding so loudly that the sound filled her ears. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." The tears finally came, and she sank into her favorite dining chair as she sobbed.
She heard Cam kneel next to her and sigh. How unattractive she felt, how unwanted, with her face reddening and her nose running and her eyes bloodshot as she cried into her callused hands.
"You love me," she wailed. "I know you love me, but you wanna leave me."
"I love you more than anything."
"Don't tell me lies when I'm already crying."
She felt his hand against her tear-soaked face, and she removed her mask of fingers to turn and look at him.
"I love you," he said. "You're beautiful and spirited and smart and I love you."
"Then tell me why."
His eyes were so green. "Because Ash loves me more."
She stared. "I don't know whether to feel sorry for you, or to hit you."
He shrugged, and it was the shrug that did it for her. The imprint of her hand on his face didn't fade until the next afternoon.
If Cam needed to see the two farmers fight over him any more, he was satisfied. Lillian spent the weeks of her pregnancy wondering how to love someone any harder.
While Cam went to the city and ran his small flower stand and relaxed by the river, a pregnant Lillian was tilling soil, fertilizing crops and herding alpacas. It stopped being a fight for Cam and starting being a test of strength.
Who could make the most money in the shortest amount of time?
Who could raise the most animals while in the weakest condition-say, being pregnant?
Who could make Pierre like his or her cooking the most?
Ash wasn't even competing. He thought he'd won, and she'd yet to see him bearing something other than a sappy, self-satisfied grin.
It was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausting, especially as the pregnancy bore along. Cam was as supportive as he could be, but Lillian shoved aside his offers of help.
She didn't even know what she was fighting for anymore.
In the middle of winter the baby was born, a girl. A beautiful little girl who was the spitting image of her father, of course. To say Cam was elated would be an understatement. Lillian had never seen him so happy. And yet he would still kiss her good bye before leaving to spend the night with Ash.
Lillian knew she was the only one with knowledge about the two men's late-night escapades, and the openness with which Cam now discussed his affair stung more than when he'd been keeping secrets. The real question was of what, exactly, she should do. Her pride wouldn't allow her to just pack up and leave town. And, of course, there was reality. Reality was not kind to a single mother with a high school education in the big city.
And yet…
She mulled things over in the few free moments she had. While changing her baby's diaper, she'd consider Cam's fiscal responsibilities that he'd been neglecting. While brushing her alpacas, she'd question her stubborn pride. While getting ready for an empty bed, she'd remind herself that she wasn't going to do anything for revenge.
She waited for him to come home from work the night she decided. Spring was finally in full bloom, and Cam was often accosted by last-minute customers who'd just realized planting season was almost over as he packed up for the day, so she knew he wouldn't be right on time. So when he was half an hour late, she wasn't too concerned. She pretended she still had chores to do, housekeeping to finish, the baby to nurse.
He didn't come home for an hour. An hour and a half.
Some part of Lillian, the part of her that had told her to wait and mull things over, whispered that maybe she should just go to bed, talk to him tomorrow. It was tempting, to just run away and pretend everything was fine, fine, fine.
"No," she said firmly to the empty house. If she were to play the victim, she'd do so with an ounce of dignity, of self-respect. It was tiring, really, letting her insouciant husband do as he pleased for so long.
"I've had enough," Lillian said again to the house. Cam chose that moment to open the door. The spring breeze wafted in, smelling of crisp night air and barnyard straw and sex.
"What?" he asked politely, smiling at her. The door shut with a click.
"I said I've had enough," she repeated. She forced herself to look into his eyes, and the confusion she found there sent a stab of guilt into her heart.
No. She would not feel guilt. She was not to blame.
"Pack up your things," she continued. "Make sure you have everything that's yours. You can't have any of my boxes or suitcases, so if you need some, run back to town. But you're not staying in my home any longer."
Cam stood stunned. He hadn't moved an inch.
"Pack up your things!" she screamed at him. Her daughter woke up and emitted a confused wail. Lillian briskly walked over to the cradle and began to soothe the baby. She could feel her trembling in her arms as though feverish; it took Lillian a moment to realize she herself was the one shaking.
"Lillian," Cam began from behind her.
"Collect your things. I won't say it again," she cut him off. "If I turn around and you're not packing up, I'm going to wake Rutger up and tell him everything. I'm doing you a favor you don't deserve, Cam. Take it or suffer; I don't care."
A pause. Finally, almost disappointed, she heard the door open and softly shut. Careful not to grip the tiny human in her arms too tightly, Lillian buried her face in her daughter's wispy hair and swallowed until the tears stopped threatening to form. After a few minutes, the door creaked again. She heard Cam set something down and unzip it.
He packed silently, just as she'd hoped he would. She refused to turn around, to put the baby back in her cradle, and so she stood there with the sleeping infant and her face to the wall. Seconds, minutes went by. He seemed to be taking a long time.
The shuffling stopped. She felt his presence behind her.
"Can I say goodbye to her?"
There wasn't any word in any language to convey Lillian's furious, heartbroken, guilty, painful something that ripped through her at that question. She managed to keep a straight face that he couldn't see. "You'll see her as she grows up. It's a small town."
"I'm her dad. I want to say goodbye."
She shook her head. "You may be her father, but you're no dad to anyone." Words bubbled up, and oh no, no, she couldn't help it, she looked at him, fixed him with a glare. "We may have been married, but you were no husband. I may have been your friend," she hissed, struggling to keep her voice from rising, "but you were no friend to me. So no, you can't say goodbye. You can take your things and you can leave, and you can be grateful I didn't lock the door and throw everything out."
Cam blinked. "Okay," he said.
Were it not for the child in her arms, Lillian was fairly certain she would have killed him. "Get out," she said instead.
He did.
She fended off the inquiries as best she could. It just didn't work out between us. We're too different. There were conflicting interests.
Yes, I'm fine. No, I don't need any help. Thank you.
Perhaps it was cowardly, but she had a long discussion with Ina and Eileen and had commissioned a barn at the Konohana farm to accommodate her animals, and after the first awkward few weeks it took to build, she escaped to the other town. At least she wouldn't have to see Cam's stall every day when she went to do her shopping. She'd managed to become self-sufficient enough that she didn't need to frequently visit the animal shop and face Ash's ill-concealed triumph.
So no, Lillian didn't care if she was being a coward. She was healthy, and that was what mattered.
And maybe in the future there would be someone else, someone who wouldn't play her like all her previous relationships had played her, but for now, she had her growing daughter and her farm and her loyal Konohana friends. And Cam may still be continuing his affair with Ash, or maybe he wasn't, but Lillian now had more important things to worry about.
She wouldn't be the victim anymore.
[end]
AN: I know I wrote Silence a really long time ago, but admittedly, I wrote most of this a really long time ago, too. I wasn't happy with it and forgot about it, but I wanted to write something ToTT and figured maybe I could try and save it. Well, I'm still not super happy with it, so tell me what you think, especially if you've read Silence (which I'd recommend, just so you can understand what's going on) because I feel like maybe I messed up Lillian from that story a bit. But I don't know~ I just wanted to explore the Lillian perspective and not focus so much on the Cash-fanservice itself.
Thanks for reading, though—especially with my lengthy Author's Note. Concrit is encouraged, since like I said, I'm not super pleased with this.