Chapter 14: Camille - Love On Time

Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep. “Ugh!” I groan as I try to pry my eyes open from a deep sleep, my hands shooting up to my aching temples. My skull pounds in perfect tandem with the alarm. The memories of last night flood to the forefront of my mind. The karaoke, the dancing in the crowded club, Drew hovering over me in the dark, his breath on my skin, and then completely rejecting my kiss. Intense humiliation and an evil hangover hit me all at once, making me want to dissolve right into the mattress and disappear.

“Shit, shit, sorry!” Drew scrambles out from under his blankets, darting across the room to grab his phone off the desk.

I glance at the red flashing numbers on the clock on the bedside table. “Drew, it’s five in the morning,” I groan, rubbing slow, deep circles into my temples.

Despite the splitting headache, my eyes instinctively track his movements. I reach over to grab my glasses and see he's shirtless, the early morning shadows highlighting the broad lines of his back and shoulders. A sudden, unwanted heat pools in all the places it definitely shouldn't right now.

“I know, I’m sorry! That’s my reminder alarm,” he says quickly, tapping frantically on his screen to silence the ridiculously loud beeping echoing through the room. “My new article just went live on the blog.”

“I would love to say I'm happy for you, but my head is killing me right now!” I chuckle, falling back into my pillow.

I hear the mini-fridge door open, and I shield my eyes against the light. A moment later, Drew walks back over to the bed, holding out a cold water bottle and two Advil.

“Here, take these,” he says softly.

I sit up carefully, the room spinning for a fraction of a second, and take the pills from his hand. Our fingers brush, and a jolt of electricity zips up my arm. My body is messing with me this morning, always betraying me when it comes to him. I swallow the Advil and chase it with half the water bottle, using the action to avoid looking at him.

But Drew doesn't move away. He carefully sits on the edge of my mattress, his shirtless chest casting a strong shadow over me in the dawn light.

"Hey," Drew says, his voice rough with sleep. He rubs the back of his neck, looking down at me with a mixture of guilt and something weighted that I can't quite put my finger on. "About last night..."

“Drew,” I sigh, the word heavy with exhaustion. “I’m already humiliated enough. Just forget it happened, okay?”

“No, I’m not going to just forget about it,” he says quietly, his eyes searching mine. “We need to talk about what happened. And I don’t just mean last night.”

“Okay.” I sigh, “We will talk, but can we do it after I have coffee?”

Drew blinks, his expression cracking for a split second as a familiar smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He’s taking in my appearance, my messy hair, smeared mascara, glasses askew, and the water bottle I have clutched to my forehead, clearly realizing that trying to have an important conversation with a deeply hungover person is an uphill battle.

“How about you go back to sleep for a little bit and shake off that headache of yours. We have a long day ahead of us with the rehearsal and dinner.” He pushes himself off the bed, making the mattress rise back up.

“Drew.” I reach up, my fingers wrapping around his wrist. He pauses at the sudden touch, his gaze dropping to where my hand meets his skin. His pulse is thudding rapidly under my fingertips. I look up at him, letting all the defensiveness drop from my voice. “I promise. We will talk about it.”

For a second, he just stares at me, his expression unreadable in the faint light of the sunrise. Then, the tension slowly drains from his shoulders. He turns his hand within my grip, giving my fingers a reassuring squeeze before letting go.

“Okay,” he says, his voice quiet. “I’ll hold you to that promise. Go back to sleep, Camille.”

He steps away, heading toward his dresser to hunt down some clothes. I sink back into the pillows, pulling the comforter up over my shoulders. As I close my aching eyes and toss away my glasses, the sound of him moving quietly around the room becomes a strange comfort.

* * *

The next time my eyes open, it’s a natural transition from sleep. I sit up cautiously, bracing for the impact, but the pulsing headache from earlier has evaporated. I peek over at the clock on the bedside table, it’s 9:00 AM. Definitely time to get up and ready for the day.

I pull the heavy covers back, climb out of bed, and rifle through my suitcase for a fresh outfit.

I take a long, steamy shower, letting the hot water wash away the last traces of the sweaty club and tequila from my skin. Once I’m out, I quickly get ready, popping in my contacts, and pull on a comfortable matching set of black biker shorts and a sports bra. I grab my phone and the room key from the counter, and take a deep breath before heading out the door to face the rest of the day.

I walk out into the bright morning air of the courtyard, watching the estate staff begin to arrange the seating and arches for the rehearsal ceremony and dinner later tonight. It’s already coming together beautifully, the wedding is going to be stunning tomorrow.

I'm heading toward the dining hall in search of coffee and Drew, when a sweet, familiar voice calls out from behind me.

“Cami?”

I stop walking and slowly turn around, tears welling in my eyes before I even fully process her face.

Standing there is Jen Carson. Drew’s mom.

“Jen!” I gasp.

I sprint across the courtyard and throw myself directly into her arms. She catches me, wrapping me in a tight, comforting embrace that I remember so vividly from high school. I melt against her, while small tears drip down my cheeks.

“I didn't know you were coming!” I say into her shoulder.

“My flight got in early this morning,” she says, gently rubbing my back before she pulls away just enough to hold me at arm’s length to get a proper look at me. A warm, maternal smile lights up her face. “Look at you. You are as beautiful as ever, Cami.”

“I’ve missed you so much,” I say, sniffling, wiping the tears from under my eyes with the back of my hand.

“Oh, honey, I've missed you too,” she whispers, her eyes glassy with her own tears as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“Does Drew know you're here?” I ask.

She lets out a nostalgic chuckle. “I was actually just with him. He was filling me in on the wild week you’ve all had so far,” she says, a cheerful smile lighting up her eyes.

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling a flush of embarrassment as I think about last night at the club. “It sure has been something,” I laugh weakly.

Jen offers me a knowing, gentle smile.

“Well, I better head inside and find him,” I say, gesturing toward the dining hall. “Can we catch up later tonight?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” She grins, squeezing my hand one last time.

I start to turn away, stepping back onto the guided path, when her voice calls out from behind me, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“Hey, Cami?”

I turn my head back to look at her. Jen’s expression has shifted from lighthearted to almost pleading.

“Will you give him a chance to explain?” she asks softly. “It’s been eating at him for years.”

The words hang heavily in the crisp morning air, sending a tremor straight to my core. I look at the woman who used to feel like a second mother to me, seeing the raw worry in her eyes. But she left me too, by deciding to move out of the house next door shortly after my world came crumbling down. I let out a quiet breath.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I will.”

I find Drew at a small table near the big windows overlooking the lake, laptop open, focused on his work.

“Mind if I join you?” I ask, cradling my coffee mug in both hands.

He looks up from the screen and does a double take, his eyes sweeping over my outfit before a wide smile spreads across his face.

“You look like you're feeling a million times better,” he says, shutting his laptop to give me his full attention.

I smile, pulling out the chair directly across from him. “I feel much better. Thank you for letting me get that extra sleep this morning. My body desperately needed it.”

“Good. I’m glad,” he says softly, his gaze lingering on me.

“I just ran into your mom out in the courtyard,” I say, taking a slow sip of my coffee. “I had no idea she was coming out for the wedding. I’ve missed her so much.”

His eyes brighten at my admission. “She’s missed you too, Cam. Honestly, I’m really glad she was able to find time to make it out here.”

“Drew, I’m really sorry about last night… I shouldn't have…” The words tumble out before I can lose my nerve. He interrupts me before I can finish the apology.

“Cami, I’m not sure how much you actually remember from last night, but I wanted to kiss you,” he says softly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “I just… I want to kiss you sober. I wanted to make sure you wouldn't wake up and regret it in the morning.”

“Oh,” I breathe, a wave of realization washing over me as the blurry memory finally clicks into place.

Drew reaches across the table, his fingers gently brushing against my hand.

“What I did to you six years ago… I need you to know the truth, Cami. I need you to know why.”

But before he can finish the sentence, the heavy wooden doors of the dining hall burst open. Cooper comes storming into the room, his eyes scanning the tables frantically until they lock onto us. He sprints across the floor, completely out of breath.

“There you guys are!” he pants, slamming his hands down onto our table. “I have a very, very big problem. I need your help right now!”

I scoot my chair back in concern. “Cooper, breathe. What is going on?”

“I lost the rings.”

“You what?!” Drew and I shout in perfect unison, our voices echoing off the tall windows.

“I had them this morning! They were right here in my pocket, and now they’re gone. Ivy cannot know about this!” he groans, pacing a frantic line up and down the side of our table, clutching his hair. “We have a meeting with the band in thirty minutes to go over the set list. I don’t have time to look for them!”

“Okay, okay, stop pacing.” Drew commands, his instincts taking over as he stands up. He looks at Cooper, then cuts a quick, knowing glance back to me. “Tell us exactly where you’ve been today, step by step.”

* * *

Thank goodness I decided to put on a workout set this morning, because we have spent the last hour and a half sprinting up and down this massive estate.

We’ve turned the place upside down. We crawled on our hands and knees across the plush green grass, searching between the chairs neatly lined up for the ceremony. We tracked down every single member of the catering and decorating staff on the property, practically begging them for answers. We checked the main desk's lost and found twice. We even sifted through the dirt along the entire winding pathway that leads down to the lake shore, our eyes scanning every inch of the rocky sand with no luck. We’ve hit a dead end.

“What do we do?” Drew asks desperately.

“We only have one last place left to look,” I say breathlessly, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. “The coffee shop in town. Cooper was there right before he met us.”

“Alright, let's go!” He smiles.

The two of us sprint across the gravel straight over to the valet station. Seconds feel like minutes as we wait. The black Mercedes chirps, its engine roaring as it pulls around the turning circle of the front entrance.

Drew pulls the passenger door wide open for me, waiting for me to crawl in before he slams it shut, then sprints around the hood and throws himself into the driver's seat.

The top is down, and the breezy afternoon wind is warm against my skin, blowing my hair wild and loose over my shoulders. Drew turns the radio volume dial up until the bass rattles the car doors.

The opening chorus of Maroon 5’s She Will Be Loved echoes through the car.

Our eyes lock, both of us staring at each other like we can’t possibly believe the universe just pulled that card on us. A second passes, and then the sheer absurdity of it breaks me. I explode into laughter. Drew cracks a massive, boyish grin, his own laughter joining mine as he keeps his eyes on the road.

The anxiety of the missing rings evaporates for a moment. I raise my hands above my head into the open sky, letting the wind whip through my fingers, and scream the lyrics alongside the stereo, breathless and alive for the first time in a long time. Drew looks over at me with a beaming smile.

“Are you absolutely sure you haven't seen a little black velvet box with two wedding rings in it?” I ask the barista, breathlessly. “No one turned them in at the register or left them at a table?”

The barista offers a sympathetic look. “I’m really sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I do remember him coming in this morning, but there were definitely no rings turned in or found after he left.”

I let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay. Thank you anyway.”

“Thank you for checking,” Drew adds quietly, placing a supportive hand on the small of my back as we turn around to leave the coffee shop.

We drive back to the estate in absolute silence, both of us feeling like we’ve failed Cooper. We pull back into the valet and walk toward the courtyard, collapsing into a couple of the wooden ceremony chairs. Drew bends forward, burying his face in his hands in defeat.

“What the hell are we going to do?” he whispers into his palms.

Right before I surrender to a nervous breakdown, something catches my attention across the lawn. Ivy’s five-year-old niece, Emma, is giggling and spinning around in the grass right before us. As she twists, a brilliant glint of metal on her tiny finger catches the midday sunlight.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, my eyes widening.

I quickly stand and sprint straight across the grass toward the little girl.

“Hey, Emma!” I smile warmly, dropping down onto my knees right in front of her.

“Hi, Ms. Camille!” she beams, stopping her spinning.

“You look so pretty today, Emma. Hey, what do you have there on your finger?”

Her cheeks turn bright pink, and she hides her hands behind her back. “I was just keeping it safe!” she says nervously.

“And you’ve done such a wonderful job,” I soothe, keeping my voice gentle and encouraging. “Do you mind if I keep them safe for the rest of the night so they don't get lost?”

“Okay!” she smiles. She slides the shimmering gold band off her thumb and reaches into her mini sequined purse, pulling out the matching small black velvet box.

“Thank you, Emma!” I beam, taking the treasures from her tiny hands.

I turn back toward the ceremony chairs, finding Drew watching me intently from a distance, his brow still furrowed in worry. I lift my hand, flashing the small box in the air. A visible weight drops off his shoulders.

“You are freaking amazing!” he yells, sprinting across the grass to meet me. Before I can even reply, he catches me by the waist, pulls me tight into his arms, and lifts me off my feet, spinning me around in the center of the courtyard. I wrap my arms tightly around his neck, giggling down at him. When he finally stops, we stay like that for a lingering moment, just staring into each other’s eyes. We forget, for a second, that we’re standing dead center in an open courtyard for anyone to see.

A slow, tender moment passes between us before he gently sets my feet back down on the ground. Instead of letting go, his hand slides down my arm, lacing his fingers into mine.

We turn in unison to head toward the main entrance of the suites, the victory high still buzzing in our veins, when we suddenly freeze.

Standing just a few yards away are my mom, Jen, and Ivy. All three of them standing side by side, watching us with giant, knowing grins plastered across their faces.

Drew swipes his keycard against the reader, and the lock clicks open as we both go tumbling into our suite, still caught in a fit of breathless laughter. This is easily the most effortless day we’ve shared all week, with no heavy tension between us. For a few hours, we fell back into our old, familiar patterns. It was fun and easy.

I wander over to my bed, letting out a long exhale as I fall straight back onto the mattress. We have a few hours to kill until rehearsals. Drew walks over, trailing the short distance between our beds, and takes a seat on the edge of his mattress directly across from mine.

“Besides all the absolute chaos of hunting down those rings, today was really fun.” I chuckle, staring up at the ceiling.

He laughs softly with me. “We make a good team, Cam.”

A fragile silence falls between us. My laughter fades, and the smile on my lips grows smaller, replaced by a deep ache in my chest. “Yeah,” I whisper, meeting his gaze. “We do.”

Drew leans forward across the narrow gap separating our beds, his movements slow, deliberate, and entirely focused on me. He extends his hand, softly tracing his fingertips along the edge of my knee.

A shiver runs down my spine, raising goosebumps on my skin—my body's usual response to his touch. Propping my upper body onto my elbows, I look down, watching his fingers dance over my bare skin before I lift my head to meet his dark, glassy eyes. I sit up straight on the edge of the mattress, directly at eye level with him. We don't say a single word. We just stare at each other, as if acknowledging our shared past and all the painful time we’ve spent apart.

His gaze falls down to my lips, prompting me to look at his. He leans in slowly this time, stopping halfway to let me decide whether to breach the final distance. There is no rejection today, no embarrassment. He is giving me the power to choose exactly what happens next.

I lean in slowly, and I can see his throat bob with a heavy swallow of anticipation. My heart is hammering rapidly against my ribs. I'm certain he can hear it.

Right before our lips can touch, Drew whispers. “We should talk first.”

With our lips only a fraction of an inch away, I whisper back, “After.”

A breathtaking smile breaks across his face. He doesn't hesitate, he cups his large hand around the back of my neck, pulling me forward and closing the remaining distance.

The kiss is slow, tender, and incredibly familiar. The sheer relief of being back in his arms brings unexpected tears to my eyes. Still holding onto my neck, he guides me off my bed and onto his, the two of us shifting until we fall back onto his mattress together. My back is flat against the bedspread as he lies on his side, hovering over me, his thumb softly stroking the edge of my jaw. Our kiss deepens, tenderness melting into a passionate hunger that we’ve been suppressing for six long years. A ragged whimper leaves his throat, and my entire body reacts, a full flood of goosebumps rippling across my skin.

We stay tangled up in each other's arms, quietly looking at each other and exchanging kisses. His thumb brushes tender strokes across my cheeks, wiping away a tear that slipped from my eye.

“You shouldn't have decided what you thought was best for me,” I whisper, my voice cracking slightly as another slow tear drips down my cheek.

“I know… I’ve regretted it every day for the past six years.” He says, his eyes darkening with a profound sadness.

“If you regretted it, why didn't you ever come back?”

He swallows hard. “Because every day that passed made it harder. I thought coming back would only hurt you more, and I convinced myself you deserved a life without me. And the truth is… I didn't think I deserved a second chance.”

I stop fighting it and let the tears fall. Seeing my composure break, Drew slides his forearm securely under my neck, pulling me tighter against his chest as if he could hold my fractured pieces together.

“I didn't love Drew the football player. I just loved Drew.” I say, my voice cracking as I try to catch my breath, fighting against the heavy sob rising in my throat. “I just needed you to let me decide whether I wanted to fight for us, and you took that choice away from me.”

I feel his muscles flinch. I look up into his eyes, and tears of his own fall down his cheeks. “You broke my heart twice. The first time you left... and then every single day you chose not to come back.”

“Camille.” A painful cry rips through his voice, raw and broken. The tears he’s been holding back for six years finally surface, carrying every ounce of pain he’s tried to bury.