Make Me Believe
A/N: Okay, so there's just a couple little things that I want to say here before this chapter is off and running. First of all, to those of you who couldn't find chapter 13 yesterday, I have no idea what happened - this site has been doing all sorts of strange things as of late, and I hope that you are able to catch it now.
The other thing I want to say is this: I LOVE getting reviews for this story. And I love hearing what you guys think about the controversy of it all. One of the standards by which I judge my success in creating a story is how people connect with, relate to, and honestly react to it. I have been blown away this time around, not by the number of reviews, but by the way so many of you have given your opinions and thoughts on what's going on within the plot. Gin, I love you, girlie - thanks for keepin' me on my toes and making me think about angles that I hadn't even considered. (btw, your secret is safe with me!) Shannon, Shawn, and all of the rest of you who have given me your honest opinions, even if they are not always "More Cameron and Taker," thank you so much for reading with an open, and intelligent mind. I love you guys!
Okay, nuff said. Enjoy!
It was time to stop the charade. For an hour, she drove in circles around Tyler, thinking of everything that she would say to Ryan. She had tried to anticipate his every reaction, preparing herself for anything he could throw at her. She knew what she would do if he cried, and if he became violent. She even came up with a plan for handling his stoic silence.
She then drove to her parents' house, finding her mother in the garden. Over a pitcher of sweet tea, she had laid out everything she was intending to say, watching her mom's eyes fill with disappointment and sadness. Though she expressed her concerns and her disapproval, the older woman had ended their conversation by assuring her daughter that her old room would be waiting, and that she would have the unconditional support of her family in whatever she decided.
Leaving the old homestead with her head held high, Cameron directed her car toward the house. But the closer she got to the trailer, the more agitated the butterflies in her stomach became. Pulling a large U-turn in the center of the street, she had headed off in the opposite direction, needing just a few more minutes to think, to get her emotions in check.
What she was about to do, the words she was about to say, would signal the end of the only romantic relationship she had ever known. She was about to put a definite end to the only life she was familiar with, and launch herself face-first into a completely daunting one she knew very little about in the first place. It had nothing to do with Mark, and very little to do with Ryan. This was about Cameron doing something for herself, something she should have done long ago.
If she was honest, she was glad that Ryan had gone to that try out. She was glad that he had been called back. And if he really wanted to make the team, she was sincerely hoping that he would. She wanted him to be happy. But more than that, she had been looking for the perfect out. Having him around all the time, working out with her and attending her shows, was supposed to make everything perfect. But it hadn't.
The only real purpose the last month had served was to increase her guilt over her weekend with Mark. As much as she told herself that it pushed him to the back of her mind, the truth was that their weekend together was never far from the very forefront of her thoughts. She had nearly confessed on several occasions, but couldn't bring herself to break Ryan's heart. His announcement about the Rangers had given her the perfect cover to blow up.
But she was tired of pretending, covering, and feeling guilty. She knew that she would make more mistakes in her life, but she wanted to make them on her own, without worrying about someone else's feelings. She owed Ryan complete honesty. She needed to let him go. She needed to move on.
By the time she eased the car along side the house, she had resigned herself to her fate. She would crash at her parents' house for the next three months, and deal with the weight of what she had done. And then she would move herself to Georgia and move on with her life. She would be okay. Ryan would be okay.
And then she stepped through the front door of the house.
Sitting on the couch, Ryan sipped from a beer bottle, his feet resting atop a cardboard box. "I think this is everything," he nodded to the other boxes stacked around the room. "I kept the dishes, but your pots and pans are in there," he pointed toward a couple of boxes on the card table.
Opening her mouth and then shutting it again several times, Cameron leaned against the front door and ran her fingers through her hair. "You're kicking me out," she stated, a numbness settling into her arms and legs.
His head nodded slowly. "You didn't come home," he stated, no anger in his voice. It was as if he was sincerely explaining to her exactly why she couldn't be there. Like she didn't understand. "You somehow managed to get it up in your head that I don't give a flying fuck about you, Cameron, but I do. More than I thought I did.
"The guys left around two. At four, I threw up. Wasn't even hungover. Just worried," he shrugged, taking another swig of his beer. "So I went to the gym. Car wasn't there. Went to your mom's. Car wasn't there, either. Couldn't remember how to get to Del's," he said.
Cameron's shoulders sagged with relief. All she needed was for him to peep in a window and see what she had been doing in the living room with Mark. "Ryan," she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.
But he only held up a hand and continued is verbal inward dialogue. "Found an old tournament invitation on the counter there," he nodded toward the kitchen. "Del's address was on it, so I drove over to Jeff's and Mapquested it. Drove out there, and what do you know? Car parked next to some big, ol' pick up truck." Meeting her eyes, he took another drink, his expression hard. "Guess you didn't hear me knockin' on the door. What with all the furniture you were rearrangin'."
She felt the bile rising in her throat before she could think to move. Running down the hall, Cameron emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl as sobs racked her body. She had intended to tell him about the affair. She had planned it perfectly in the car. She would tell him about all of the other issues first, and then she would explain that she had slept with Mark on a couple of occasions, when she was sure that he understood that wasn't the reason for their marriage ending.
By the time she had splashed water over her face, he was looming behind her, leaning casually in the doorway of the tiny room. "Been goin' on for awhile, hasn't it?" he asked.
Turning, she held the hand towel over her face, resting her behind on the edge of the sink. She couldn't look at him, couldn't bring herself to see the accusations in his eyes. Nodding, she sniffled back another sob. The sound of her words was muffled by the cloth at her mouth, and Ryan reached out to pull it back, the beer bottle still dangling between his fingers.
"I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out when she risked a glance at him through lowered lashes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."
Ryan smirked, shaking his head in disbelief. "You don't just fuckin' cheat on your husband by accident, Cami. I know it might be hard for you, but can you at least try to respect me enough to tell me the fucking truth? Now that I know?"
Like a wounded animal, all she wanted to do was hiss, claw, and bite back at him. She wanted to scream for him to understand, to try to act like an adult for once. But she had broken their marriage vows. And she had been planning a life without him. She had no right to fight back.
Stepping toward him, she squeezed past him and looked into the bedroom. The piles of laundry on the floor were seriously diminished, and the candles were gone. The closet was more than half empty, but it was otherwise exactly as she had left it the night before. "When I met him, he was just The Undertaker, ya know?" she asked, lowering herself to the bed and then standing again. Sitting felt too comfortable. She didn't deserve comfort. "One of the most successful guys in the business that I wanted so badly to be a part of, and who was really complimentary about my talents.
"And it felt so good," she chuckled at the absurdity of the defense. She knew that it didn't make sense. But she knew that there was nothing she could say that would sound valid. There was nothing that made her actions right. "Knowing that somebody thought I was good enough to make it, that he wanted me to succeed? It was easy to convince myself that I was just thanking him for that faith in me."
In disbelief, Ryan sat his beer bottle on the top of the dresser and crossed his arms. "You couldn't just buy him a card? Maybe a bottle of hair dye?"
"We don't have any money!" Cameron argued without thinking, regretting it instantly.
Laughing, Ryan raked his hand through his floppy curls. "So our money problems are," he started, biting his lip and shaking his head. "Ya know what? I'm not even gonna have this fight with you. We've both known it was coming anyway," he sighed, turning back for the living room.
Cameron followed on legs of lead. It was what she had wanted, in reality. She had the gun loaded and cocked before she ever walked in the door. So why was it so hard to accept that she wasn't the one pulling the trigger? "Can I ask you a question?"
He opened the door and lifted one of the heavier boxes into his arms, leaning against the wall for support when he looked back. "What's that?"
"Why even pretend for the last month?" she asked with a shrug, grabbing the box closest to her before moving toward the door.
Ryan stepped onto the porch and spoke over his shoulder as he walked to his wife's car. "I wasn't pretending," he grunted, laying the box on the ground until she opened the trunk. After dumping the box, he rested his hands on his hips and offered her the first genuine smile she had seen since arriving home. "You forget who you're talking to, Cami?" Shaking his head, he took a step closer and grasped her arms in his hands. "I have known you for the better part of our lives, Woman. When you go off to the most life-changing event of your life, and you don't call me at all? I know somethin' is up, okay?
"You had already decided that you were goin' to Georgia before you ever got home. So what was I supposed to do? Fight you?" He released his grip and stepped back, leaning against the car and crossing his arms once again. "I figured I'd give it a shot. I decided I was gonna try to give it a shot, try to salvage what was left of us. Cause ya know what?" Tilting his head to the side, he gave her the crooked grin that had always set her heart on fire in the past. "It ain't easy walkin' away from somethin' that's been your life for as long as you can remember, ya know? We ain't been right for a long time, and every time we try to fix it?" He chuckled. "We just fuck it up even more."
For a moment, she thought that she might throw up again. The way that he was shrugging his shoulders made it seem as though he didn't care. But he was right. They knew each other. She could see it in his eyes. He loved her. More than he was ever going to admit in words. "And you don't think that we can co-exist for another three months?" she asked, unsure of where the questions were coming from. But at the moment, the thought of leaving him hurt more than she could explain. Not Ryan, her husband. But Ryan, her best friend since high school.
"No," he said without hesitation, stepping past her en route to the house once more. "You need to go, Cami. You need to follow your dreams. I've seen you in that ring, and you shine. You light up, and people love you, and it's where you're supposed to be," he explained. "And if I don't kick your ass outta this house, you're not gonna go," he predicted.
Stepping back over the threshold, she wordlessly helped him carry the rest of the boxes to the car. Once they were all loaded, she turned and rested her hand on his palm. "I was gonna leave today," she informed him.
Ryan smiled and took her hand in his. "Well, I didn't know that," he pointed out. "Kinda glad you didn't, though," he admitted, a slight blush beginning at the base of his neck.
"Why's that?" Cameron smiled, a sense of calm filling her beyond all explanation. She was about to get into her car and drive away from the union they had worked so hard to maintain, yet both were happier than they had been in more than a year.
Opening her door for her, Ryan stood on one side, creating a shield between them. "Helps me feel like more of a man," he sniffed, flexing his pecs as she laughed. After a brief moment of shared silence, his smile faded. "I hope all of your dreams come true, Cami Bear," he said sincerely.
Cameron leaned forward and pressed her lips to his for the last time. "You, too, Ry. I hope your call back goes well," she said, realizing that she actually meant it.
Sliding into the seat of the car, she started the engine as he slammed the door. In the review mirror, she cast one last look at her former life, heaving a heavy, cleansing sigh. The first book in the trilogy of her life had been completed, and she couldn't wait to crack the next book.