Steele smirked at me. “If she means enough that you’re finally going to leave Olivia, then I bet I approve.”
I eyed him and leaned closer so I wouldn’t have to talk loud. “You’re not going to judge me at all about this?”
His smirk faltered. “If you’re already with her, I’m going to tell you to think about what you’re doing. You’re still married, Saco. You should divorce Olivia before you start anything with this girl.”
“What the fuck, are you serious?” Hudson hissed. “You’re cheating on Olivia?”
“But seeing how you’re planning on leaving your wife for another woman, I’m betting it’s already started,” Steele continued as if Hudson hadn’t spoken. “Am I right?”
I nodded and ground my jaw.
“I love you, man. You know that, and I know Hudson will agree that we just want to see you happy for once. If she’s what makes you happy, then that’s what we want for you. But don’t do it this way. Leave Olivia, and then continue it. And I’m not saying that for Olivia, because you don’t owe that bitch a damn thing. I’m saying this for whoever this girl is, she deserves to have you go about this the right way.”
“I know she does,” I groaned and rubbed my hands over my face.
“Unless she’s just trash, then we need to have an intervention. But knowing you, I doubt that’s the case.”
I leveled a glare at Hudson. “She’s not. I’m pretty sure she’s killing herself over this, she hates what we’re doing . . . and I hate that she feels like that. But it’s hard, there’s stuff I have to take care of with Olivia first. And we tried staying away from each other—swear to God we tried—but there was no way to. I know this is going to sound so fucking weird, but I knew within days of meeting her that I needed her to live.”
Both guys just stared at me blankly for a few seconds. “Huh. Well, damn. What’s her name?” Steele finally asked.
“Kamryn.”
“Wh—um . . . this is a girl, right?”
I barked out a laugh. “Yes, her name is Kamryn.” I spelled it out for them, and they both laughed.
“Shit, I was worried there for a second,” Hudson said, and I shot him a droll look.
“Really, though, you would both like her. Brown hair, blue eyes, amazing smile and body. She wears these hipster glasses that I swear to Christ I would hate on anyone else. She has this southern drawl she tries so hard to hide, owns a bakery . . . I don’t know. Just—everything about her.”
“Well, come on, picture.” Hudson grabbed for my phone resting on the table, and I shook my head.
“You won’t find one. I delete our texts too. She’s terrified of anyone finding out, and I don’t want Liv to find out about her because I don’t know what she’d do to her.”
“How’d you meet her?” Steele asked.
I laughed hard once and scratched at the back of my neck. “Well, she’s my sister-in-law’s best friend. Kamryn’s bakery is right next to the boutique Kinlee and her mom run, and I guess Kamryn is always at their house. I went over for a barbecue, and it just escalated from there.”
“Well, I’m glad you found someone who will make you happy. It really is good to see you smiling again. But, like I said, think about what you’re doing. She sounds nice, don’t make her go through this. Finish whatever it is you have to with Olivia, and then be done with her . . . you don’t want to be one of those guys who cheats on his wife, and if people find out, you don’t want her to be seen as one of those girls.”
“I know.” I sighed. Everything he said I already knew and thought about on a daily basis. I hated that I was making Kamryn go through this with me. I hated that I couldn’t have been single when I met her. But I’d tried to stay away, and after feeling dead for so long . . . after finally getting a glimmer of being alive again . . . there had been no way for either of us to wait for me to be divorced. I just hoped I could figure out a way to get some help for Olivia soon.
8
Kamryn
June 5, 2015
CALLING OUT A good-bye to my employees, Grace and Andy, I rested my elbows on the counter near the pastry case and groaned into my hands. My days seemed to drag lately, and it had nothing to do with work. Business was steady, I still loved baking every day, and Kinlee made sure my days were never dull. But I missed Brody. I physically ached from having gone so long without him, sleep was practically nonexistent now, and I’m pretty sure people were beginning to get suspicious with my constant “Mondays suck” theme in the bakery.
If the day didn’t start off well, making it feel like a Monday, we blasted music all day and put out a sign letting customers know that they could throw the old cupcakes against one of our walls to get frustrations out. And I’d been doing it almost every other day.
It had only been a little over two weeks since I’d seen him . . . but an hour without him was torture. Weeks without his touch? It felt like I was constantly suffocating, fighting for air.
I wasn’t this girl who relied on men to survive, never had been. I’d been with Charles out of obligation, but was happy and free when I was away from him. And I’d been more than content being alone when I’d moved to Oregon. Now my world revolved around one man. I had turned into one of those love-struck teenagers whose dramatic fits would sound something like “I can’t live without him.” I knew how ridiculous I sounded, but my need for him was unlike anything I’d ever known.
I’d never believed in soul mates, because no one I’d grown up around had been happy with their spouse. But something in me called to Brody. I never felt as whole as I did when I was with him, and the time we spent apart felt as if my soul had been torn in two. I couldn’t tell you if this empty, hollow feeling was how I’d always been, and it was just more pronounced now that I’d had glimpses of what being whole was like, or if it was all in my head. But I knew if there was such a thing as soul mates, Brody Saco was mine.
And he was still married to another woman.
Straightening up and turning to go into the kitchen to finish up the dishes, I rubbed at the pain in my chest and tried to force the bitter thoughts about Olivia from my mind. I didn’t have the right to hate her. And still, I did. I hated her for being with the man I loved. I hated that she took him from me during the few stolen moments we were able to have. And I hated that I was the one who should be hated by her. I was taking her husband; he was being unfaithful to her because of me. I was ruining a marriage.
As I had done so many times since Brody and I had decided to be together, I felt sick over what we were doing. But even through the guilt, I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to thoughts of Olivia. I wondered what it was about her that had kept Brody this long. I wondered why Brody still wasn’t leaving her.
With a frustrated cry, I threw the dishes I’d been carrying into the sink and gripped the edge with both hands as I forced myself to stay standing.
“I’m not this girl. I’m not this girl,” I chanted to the empty kitchen. But I am.
And it was slowly driving me insane. When we were apart, I second-guessed our decision to start the relationship before he could get a divorce from Olivia. I wondered why I felt bad at all if he was so miserable in his marriage. I hated his wife. I hated myself. A jealousy unlike anything I’ve ever felt made itself known more than once a day. Guilt spread through my body and threatened to cripple me. And my need to be with him again grew stronger with each passing hour.
All of this . . . all of these conflicted emotions . . . were like a broken record in me. I would go through all of them only to start at the beginning again.
So many nights, as I lay in bed unable to sleep, I would mentally scream that I couldn’t do this anymore. That I couldn’t handle the guilt anymore. But then I would talk to him, and even through the heartache of knowing he was going home to his wife instead of me, I knew I would go through this emotional torture again and again for Brody.