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Chapter 98
Chapter 91: Keeping That Door Closed
Sedona’s POV
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“I have too much here now,” I said. “That’s the thing he doesn’t understand, and that I didn’t understand when I left-I was leaving because I had nothing left to hold onto there. Nothing to stay for, no one who’d notice the difference. But I came home and-” I looked at the door, as if I could see through it to the rest of the hospital, to the city beyond. “I have Mom and Dad. I have you. I have Rachel. I have people who actually see me, who knew me before I made myself small, who are giving me reasons to remember who I was.” I paused. “I only stayed with Logan for so long because I was afraid that if I left, I’d have no one. That the only people who’d want me were the ones I’d already burned bridges with. That coming home wasn’t an option because I’d made it not an option p>
“It was always an option,” Cameron said, his voice rough.
“I know that now.” I met his eyes. “That’s why I can say no to Logan and mean it. Because I’m not
saying no out of pride or anger or out from a petty reason to make him suffer just because I can.
I’m saying no because I have something better than what he was offering me and I don’t need to
settle for being someone’s system or invisible character who stays only in the background when I
have people who actually-” The word caught slightly. “When I have this p>
Cameron looked at me for a long moment. Something in his face settled-the preoccupied weight that had been sitting there for days lifting, or at least shifting to something lighter.
“Good,” he said. It came out uneven, slightly rougher than he intended, and he cleared his throat.
“That’s-good, Sedona p>
“You were really worried,” I said.
“I’m your brother. Worrying is my primary function p>
“You need to get better at hiding it p>
“I need to do a lot of things.” He leaned back in his chair, the familiar posture of Cameron when the acute part of something had passed and he was returning to himself, the more jovial part of himself that existed when he had dealt with dealing with problems that he had been troubled
about.
“Speaking of which p>
I recognized the shift in his tone. The slight upward inflection that meant he was pivoting to
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something lighter, something he’d been saving. “Don’t,” I said.
“didn’t say anything p>
“You were about to say something about Dante p>
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He arranged his face into an expression of elaborate innocence that I’d been seeing on him since
we were children and that had never once successfully convinced me of anything. “Why would say anything about Dante p>
“Cameron p>
“I’m just noting,” he said, “that the eating has improved significantly since a certain visitor started arriving every morning with homemade food p>
“He’s a good cook. That’s not p>
“And that you laughed three times yesterday. I counted p>
“People laugh. That’s a normal human p>
“Real laughs,” he said. “The kind you used to do. Not the polite kind.” He tilted his head. “I haven’t
heard the real ones in a long time p>
I felt the flush starting in my face, the same unwelcome warmth that had been happening whenever Dante came up in conversation since Rachel had said what she’d said, and I directed my attention firmly at the ceiling. “He’s a friend. He’s being kind. He’s in Seattle for the week and he has free afternoons and he p>
“He asked me this morning,” Cameron said, conversationally, “whether there were any foods you’d specifically mentioned not being able to eat right now so that he would make sure to avoid it, so as to not put you in a position where you would force yourself to eat it. Very practical question. Purely logistical p>
“That’s-he’s planning what to bring. That’s just p>
“He also asked how you were sleeping. And whether the fourth cycle was likely to be as hard as the third and if there was anything that you required from him personally that can help you get through it, because he hates to see you in pain.” Cameron’s voice remained entirely conversational, which was somehow worse than if he’d been teasing. “Standard questions from a casual acquaintance being kind p>
“Cameron.” I looked at him. “Stop p>
“I’m not doing anything p>
“You’re doing the thing where you don’t say the thing so that I have to say the thing p>
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He smiled, which was infuriating because it was the smile of someone who’d been caught doing exactly that and wasn’t sorry about it. “Is there a thing to say p>
“Your face disagrees p>
I pressed my hands against my cheeks in a completely undignified attempt to address the flush evidence, which Cameron watched with unconcealed amusement.
“I am a woman in a hospital bed in the middle of cancer treatment,” I said. “I have enough to deal with. Whatever is or is not happening with Dante Wells is not something I have the capacity to address right now and I would appreciate it if you would leave it alone p>
“Completely fair,” Cameron said. “Entirely reasonable position.” He said with the absolute seriousness of someone taking this seriously.
“Thank you p>
“Very mature.” He said with a thumbs up, which was over exaggerating at this point.
“Cameron p>
“I’m agreeing with you.” He said looking innocent as he batted his eyelids trying to pretend he was not doing any specific things.
“You’re agreeing with me in the tone you use when you’re about to not agree with me p>
He was quiet for exactly three seconds. “He likes you,” he said. “That’s all. I’m not asking you to do anything about it or think about it or address it in any way. I just-as someone who has been watching the two of you for a week-he likes you. And I think you might know that p>
The flush was beyond managing at this point. I decided to stop managing it. “What I know is that he’s a kind person who has been generous with his time during a difficult period and that he was someone I knew a long time ago and it’s been-it’s been nice. To have someone around who knew me from before. Who knew the tennis version of me.” I looked at the window, because looking at his face was not an option at the moment. “That’s all p>
“Of course,” Cameron said.
“Don’t make kissing noises p>
He immediately made kissing noises.
“Cameron Preston, I swear to everything p>
He was laughing, actually laughing, the full version that he’d been rationing for weeks out of some
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instinct that the situation didn’t permit it. The sound of it was so familiar and so specifically Cameron that I found my own irritation becoming something else, something that involved the corners of my mouth doing things I hadn’t authorized. I was feeling the forming on a smile on my mouth and I did not stop it.
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