After I down the first beer, I go back in for another. Tyson is sitting at the table, messing around with his phone.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks me.
“Not particularly,” I say, and walk back out the door. I sit up on the railing, where I was before I downed my beer, and I hear the door swing closed again.
“Tough shit. What’s going on?”
“I told her she had to figure her shit out. Go get the answers she so desperately needs. Though I might have pushed her too far because I told her that I wanted to have the woman I fell in love with back.”
“Ouch, man, is she really being that bad?”
I look at him and nod. “She has no sense of the spiral she is falling down. I can’t even begin to imagine the spiral I would fall down if I found out my mom was still alive. But our situations are so different from one another. Bobby essentially threw Cami to the wolves and never even bothered to try, at least while he was alive. At some point their relationship started to get better, but before it could develop into anything, he ‘died.’” I can’t even begin to imagine, and to some extent, I understand why she is falling down this spiral. “I love her more than anything, Ty. I need her to come back to me.”
“Give her some time. Maybe she will go see her father, get to the bottom of this. But don’t expect her to be cured when she comes home. You need to remember why this is so hard for her. Her father was a douche to her in life, then faked his own death just for her to find out that he’s alive, right when she is starting to really accept his death. I would not want to be in her shoes.”
“I don’t want her shoes, they hurt.”
He laughs a little. “You know what I mean.”
“I do know what you mean, and I can’t help her unless she wants my help...or unless she starts talking to me.”
“Understood.”
Tyson and I sit on the porch for some time, not really talking about anything, just sitting in silence, drinking beer. Okay, I’m the only one drinking beer. Tyson is having apple juice.
After my fourth beer, I realize that it is after midnight and head to bed. When I climb in, Cami is snoring softly and I try my hardest to climb into bed without waking her up. She needs to sleep off her alcohol.
I’m not in bed for two minutes before she rolls over and snuggles into me, wrapping her arm around me and nestling into the crook of my shoulder. I can’t help but pull her close to me. I love her so much it hurts. I kiss her forehead.
“I love you, I’m sorry,” she whispers, and I think she’s awake, but the soft snoring continues.
“I love you.”
I fall asleep quickly after that.
******
Cami
******
I have got to stop doing this. My head is pounding, my stomach is swirling, and I am draped all over Tristan. I wasn’t that drunk last night, and I remember everything he said to me. Every single word of it was true. Truer than I really wanted to hear, but he proved something to me last night. No matter what, he will always push me to do the right things.
He’s right; I can’t keep doing this to myself. This isn’t who I am anymore, and I’m being a complete and total bitch to someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s done nothing but support me and stand by my side since we met in Tarah.
What I wouldn’t give to be back there again. Back to when things were carefree between us. Back to when things were sweeter, simpler and filled with rooftop swimming pools and room service.
I finally open my eyes, and as soon as I do, Tristan begins stoking my hair. “I know you’re awake,” he whispers.
I smile despite the major headache beating my brain to death. “How’d you know?”
I feel his small chuckle. “You started tracing my abs with your finger.”
“Oh,” I say and sit up, looking at his beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that I adore. They’re vulnerable this morning, and I can truly understand why. He’s waiting to see if I am going to snap at him. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He gives me a beautiful, crooked smile. “So am I.”
I cock my head at him and I can tell he is thinking that I don’t remember last night, but I do. “Everything you said was the truth, you have nothing to be sorry about.”
“You give me more credit than I deserve. Though I stand by what I said — you either need to talk this out or put an end to it. I’m always willing to listen, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the person you need to be talking to.”
“You’re right.”
“I will go with you, all you have to do is ask.”
I shake my head. “No, you’ve seen me at my worst without being around Robert. You do not need to see that, and he is someone I need to deal with on my own.”
“I respect that, Cami. But know that when you’re done, I will be here, ready and willing to talk about this. Without the alcohol.” He kisses the top of my head.
I move to bring my lips to his and he turns away. “Nope, go brush your teeth. Crown in the morning is the worst breath ever.” He laughs, and I leap up out of bed, stripping off my clothes as I go.
I’m standing there at the mirror, looking at my hair and brushing my teeth, when Tristan comes up behind me and grabs my ass. Then, in my stunned immobility, he takes my toothbrush from my mouth and puts it in his. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that.” I spit the toothpaste out and grab the mouthwash, rinsing. I watch as he brushes his teeth. He’s watching me in the mirror.
We don’t make it out of the bathroom. First he takes me on the counter, then again in the shower, and I know the moment he slides home inside me I am forgiven for my inexcusable outburst last night. But I know that if I keep this shit up, eventually he won’t forgive me.
“I’m off tomorrow,” he says as he pulls his t-shirt over his head. “If you change your mind and want me to go with you, I can go tomorrow.”
“No, I think I need to go and get this over with, and I know that I need to go alone.” I climb into my black pumps and straighten the pencil skirt I’m wearing, then tuck in the button-up, sleeveless silver blouse. I pull on the matching black jacket and watch Tristan’s eyes rake over me. “Enjoying the view?”
“Absolutely, but more than that I’m trying to decide why you’d wear something so formal to meet your father.”
“It’s my way of feeling powerful. I know I will catch him off guard, and I will be dressed like this. It gives me confidence. Though I am going sans makeup. No one wants to see that.” He shivers at the memory of seeing me that night. I have no idea what I looked like then, but the next morning was disastrous enough.
He walks over to me and wraps his arms around me. “Will you text me when you get there? Then again when you leave? If I can, I will text or call you back. But I have a busy day ahead of me and am scheduled to be on set until at least eight.”
I groan. “Eight? Really?” I pout.
He smiles. “Yes, eight. But if there is an emergency and you need me, call Tyson and he can pull me off set and I will come home. No matter what.”
“Tristan, you could lose your job.”
“Fuck them, you’re more important.”
I can’t help but smile at him. I know that he’d give up this life if I wanted him to...or if the right opportunity came around to walk away from it. “That won’t be necessary, but I can’t promise you will come home to a sober me. You might come home to a drunk mess.”
He doesn’t smile. “I’d prefer sober, but know that I do understand. I don’t have to work tomorrow, so please, stay sober so we can talk when I get home.”
“All right. I promise to try.”
“Alcohol is never the answer, Cami, and you know that.”
I nod and he kisses me again. “You better go, you’re gonna be late.”
“No, I am going to get there and sit around for three hours while they cover me in makeup. I might as well go back to sleep.”
“Oh, the life of a beautiful actor.”
“Oh, the life, indeed.” He kisses me again and goes to the door. He looks back at me one last time, and I see it: fear. He’s afraid of what he is going to come home to, and I’m not sure I can blame him.