Pieces of Us (3 page)

“Not now,” I said, my voice harsh. “Why don’t you go take a shower before everyone gets here?”

Without saying a word, he took my hand. I felt something cold and hard touch my palm as he squeezed gently and then released me. I looked down and saw my engagement ring and wedding band sitting in my hand.

“Please wear them today,” he whispered.

I nodded and slipped them quickly onto my finger, holding my hand out to look at them. I remembered doing the exact same thing not long after we were married, admiring how the rings would look there for the rest of my life. Suddenly the metal felt hot on my skin, as if it was burning me, and I shook my hand slightly to rid myself of the odd sensation.

I looked up, and Cameron nodded silently before walking down the hall to our bedroom. After a moment I heard the water in the shower and let out a sigh. I could do this. I just had to hold myself together until our families left after lunch. I could do this.

I prepared the turkey slowly, adding the stuffing I’d made a few days earlier and basting the skin. When I was satisfied with how it looked, I started peeling potatoes. Despite my hands being busy, my mind remained focused on the man down the hall. What was he thinking right now? Was he thinking about me or Lucy?

The shower shut off, and I tensed, suddenly wondering if he’d be waiting for me to hand him clothes. Should I go and pick some out for him? I decided I’d keep peeling my potatoes and leave him to pick out his own clothes. I didn’t owe him any favors.

After I’d put the turkey in the oven and peeled a dozen potatoes, Cameron still hadn’t emerged and my curiosity got the better of me. I pushed the bedroom door open to find Cameron standing in a towel in front of the closet with tears in his eyes. For the first time in twenty-four hours, I felt a bit of sadness for him.

I pushed past him into the closet. Keeping focused on my task, and not on the fact that he was standing so near that I could feel his warm breath on the back of my neck, I pulled out a pair of beige linen pants and a black v-neck sweater and handed them to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before I could react, his arms were around me.

He pushed me gently into the wall and pressed his body against mine as he hugged me. My body automatically responded. His scent surrounded me and the warmth of his body felt familiar and safe. But while my body enjoyed the sensation of being close to my husband, my heart pulled away.

He’d started to pepper gentle kisses through my hair and onto my forehead before I gathered the strength to push him away. “Don’t, Cam!” I pleaded, my voice sounding more emotional than I wanted it to.

“Charlotte — ”

I’d just had a demonstration of how my body was ready to betray me, and I needed to stay strong. My heart and my head were going to steer me through this, not my physical urges.

“I have to get back to the kitchen,” I said hastily, slipping out of his grasp and almost running down the hall.

I leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to calm my heart rate and slow the flood of tears threatening to flow down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I went to the bedroom in the first place, but it had been a huge mistake. Cameron was like a magnet, and even though my heart was shattered into a million pieces, those broken shards were still drawn to him. Being around him now was like stabbing myself with a dull blade — painful and self-sabotaging.

“Merry Christmas!” a muffled voice called through the front door. I looked up and saw Cameron’s older brother, Ryan, staring through the door’s glass panel, smiling.

I took a deep breath, drew my shoulders back, and let him into the house. I held the door open as he walked through, arms laden with presents. He was followed by his wife, Sarah, carrying a plate of food. Ryan, the eldest Harper child, looked most like his parents. With his father’s broad jaw and tall build, and his mother’s Spanish genes, he was the traditional “tall, dark, and handsome.” Sarah was a classic beauty: long, red curls, bright blue eyes that were always smiling, and a peaches-and-cream complexion that almost glowed. The light smattering of freckles over her cheeks added a down-to-earth quality.

“Sarah, you didn’t need to bring anything,” I said, my normal self coming back a little.

“I know, but I wanted to. It’s just cookies for after dinner.” She placed the plate on the table and turned to give me a hug.

I sank into her arms, not realizing how much I needed to be hugged and comforted by someone who wasn’t Cameron.

“It smells great in here,” another happy voice said from the doorway. I looked over my shoulder to see Cameron’s sister, Bonnie, walking in. She was dressed in a glitter-covered shirt and Santa hat.

“Merry Christmas,” I said, smiling at her.

“There’s my baby sister,” Cameron called as he appeared in the room.

Bonnie ran over, and as Cameron hugged her his eyes locked on me over her shoulder. I turned away and walked through the archway into the kitchen to check on the turkey and vegetables. When I pulled the oven door open, I was accosted with a wave of heat delicious smells. For a just a moment, I could pretend this was any normal Christmas Day.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” I heard from behind me. I turned to see Cameron’s mother, Ellen, smiling at me, her soft features showing nothing but love and joy.

Soft lines had formed in the corners of her eyes from years of laughter, and I hoped I would age as gracefully as she had. Her once dark hair was now peppered with gray, but despite her talk about needing to dye it, she was beautiful just the way she was.

“Merry Christmas, Mom,” I replied, standing up with a genuine smile on my face. Cameron’s parents had insisted I call them Mom and Dad after we were married, and I had to admit it was nice to feel like a real part of their family.

My own mother had run off with my father’s best friend just a few months ago, which had shaken me to my core. It disgusted me that she’d been having an affair for years with a man I’d always considered more of an uncle than a family friend. When my father confronted them, she didn’t even show remorse. She just packed her belongings and left my father behind. Since then I’d done my best to look after my father, but it was taking its toll on me. The fact that Cameron could do the same thing was incomprehensible, and yet he had.

Ellen surrounded me with a hug. “You look just as tired as Cam does. Is everything okay?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled. “We’re fine,” I replied with as much conviction as I could muster.

Her head tilted as she took in my tone and expression, but I was saved when my father arrived, and I excused myself to greet him.

A few minutes later we were exchanging gifts. An array of sweaters, movies, and electronic devices were unwrapped and gushed over. Then Cameron’s father, David, gave a toast for the blessing that everyone in our family was happy and healthy. As he neared the end of his speech, Cameron caught my eye briefly before I turned away.

Before I knew it, we were all seated around the dining table. Dad sat directly opposite me, and I smiled at him. All through lunch he gave me curious looks, and when he thought I wasn’t looking, he glared at Cameron.

David was seated at the head of the table, where he expertly sliced the turkey and passed some to me. Of course Cameron sat next to me, but I leaned as far away from him as possible without being obvious. Cameron, however, was leaning into me as much as he could, and he kept pulling his chair closer to mine.

I tried to ignore him and eat. The food tasted good, but it gave me no enjoyment. I looked at the smiling faces around the table and reminded myself why I was maintaining this charade. I sighed and took another bite of turkey just as Cameron began stroking the back of my other hand lovingly. A surge of anger shot through my body, and my fork froze mid-way to my mouth as I turned to look at him. He was talking with Ryan about the amount of studying he’d been doing for his degree and not even looking at me. The gesture was so casual, as if he didn’t think twice about touching me.

“Excuse me, Cam?” I said softly, so as not to alarm Ryan.

He smiled at me and leaned in close, his fingers still touching my hand. I clutched my fork tightly, trying to hold my anger inside.

“Get your hand off me or I will stab you in the thigh with this fork,” I whispered.

He froze, the smile dropping from his face before he reluctantly pulled his hand away. I went back to eating my food and realized part of me was saddened by the loss of his touch, but only a very small part. Cameron gave me a look before turning back to Ryan and resuming his conversation.

“So how’s Lucy? I haven’t seen her in ages!” Bonnie asked, leaning around her mother to look at me.

I felt Cameron’s body go rigid beside me. I thought of several ways I could handle this situation. I looked down at my plate and pushed the last of the food around. I decided to take the high road.

“She’s fine.”

“So, David, how’s work? Are you getting many new patients through your clinic?” my dad asked loudly, directing the attention away from me. David was a chiropractor, and Cameron was currently in the process of obtaining his dentistry degree with the hopes of one day having a family clinic with his father.

Cameron’s hand slipped onto my knee under the table, and he squeezed it gently. Before I could tell him to remove his fingers from my leg, he patted my knee one last time and moved his hand back to his own lap.

***

I watched David’s car pull out of the driveway, and as soon as it was out of sight, the smile dropped from my face. Cameron and I stood in silence for a moment in the front yard, and I could feel him staring at me, but I didn’t have anything to say to him. My brain was still trying to process all I’d learned in the past twenty-four hours.

I looked over at Cameron and saw his hands jammed in his pockets and his foot tapping nervously. We both knew what was coming: the talk. My breathing quickened, and I felt panic in my chest. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him. I wasn’t strong enough for that yet. So instead of saying anything, I just shuffled my left foot nervously and watched the little chunks of dirt moving around under my shoe.

“Charlotte…” Cameron started, but when I looked up and met his eyes, he stopped talking.

“I’m going to clean up,” I said, walking past him.

His hand jerked slightly, as if to reach out to me, but he held it back and let me pass. Part of me longed for his touch of his warm skin, but my brain knew it was best that he keep his distance. I started stacking plates to carry into the kitchen, where I placed the dirty dishes in the sink and ran the water. One by one, I rinsed the plates and stacked them on the counter.

“Want some help?” Cameron asked from the doorway.

Without waiting for me to answer, he moved next to me and began placing the rinsed plates into the dishwasher. It had been our nightly ritual almost the entire time we’d lived together: I would rinse and pass the dishes to him, and he would load the dishwasher. We’d always been a team, equals, a complete unit — or so I thought. We weren’t a team anymore, and we never would be again.

For the first time, it truly became clear to me that Cameron and I weren’t going to have a future together. This home we shared wasn’t
ours
anymore, and suddenly I didn’t want to be in it. I could have told Cameron to leave, but I knew I’d never be able to get over him, get over the pain, if I was surrounded by objects that had been
ours
. I needed to get as far away from him and this house as I could.

“It’s not what you think,” Cameron whispered, trying to initiate the conversation I was doing my best to avoid.

I sighed and held another plate under the water. “I know I promised you we’d talk tonight, but I really don’t have anything to say.” I felt the tears I’d suppressed earlier start to form in my eyes.

“I’m moving out,” I added when he didn’t reply.

“What are you feeling, Charlotte?” He reached across me to turn off the faucet so I was unable to hide behind the chore. “Not what you’re thinking, but what’s in your heart?”

My husband knew me so well. He could see the war going on inside my body — the struggle between what my head wanted and what my heart begged for. He also likely knew my heart wanted him.

“I don’t know.” I was being honest. At that point, I mostly felt numb, though I was sure anger and hurt would come in larger doses soon. Right now I didn’t want to yell, and I didn’t want to fight. I just wanted to leave and be alone. I felt more exhausted than I ever had, and it was an effort just to keep myself from collapsing.

“Would you stay if I asked you to?” He was leaning against the counter and staring intently at me, trying to maintain eye contact.

“No, I can’t be around you right now,” I choked out, emotion clouding my voice as the comforting numbness began to recede. Amazingly, the two warring parts of myself agreed on this point. My head didn’t want to be anywhere around him ever again, and although my heart craved his touch, it was in too much pain to stand being near him now.

Cameron’s hands — the hands that I loved, but had caressed another woman — moved up, and he scrubbed them roughly over his face.

“When will you leave?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“Now.” I turned the faucet back on and rinsed the last few plates before stacking them neatly in front of him. I wiped down the counter and swept the floor. Cameron leaned against the counter the whole time, silently watching me.

“I never meant to hurt you, Charlotte. I honestly love you, and if you’d just let me explain, I think — ”

“Don’t!” I almost yelled as I finally started to cry. “I can’t talk about this now.”

“We
have
to talk about this. I’m not going to let you just walk away from me…from
us
,” he yelled back, waving his arms emphatically. “If you would just
stop
and listen to me for two minutes — ”

“There’s no
us
left to talk about,” I replied, cutting him off. I was trying to stay calm, but my traitorous voice was shaking.

“Char!” he called, moving toward me.