The Real

I stared at her retreating back as I walked up my steps and sat on my stoop trying to process it all. The sun was slowly descending on another day without him.

“Hey Abbie,” Mrs. Zingaro greeted as she checked the mailbox outside her door in her usual attire. She slowly flipped through the envelopes as I looked on after Kat. “Same old garbage,” Jenny huffed.

In my headspace, I wondered how much of Cameron still existed and how much of Jefferson was left. I wondered if somehow the two had merged into the man I fell in love with. I didn’t know Jefferson. And I was still reeling from the fact that the same man Kat made a mockery of was the same man I’d been in awe of. Maybe that was his bigger confession. Not that he had a failed marriage, but he lay victim to his ex-wife. Her treatment of him was vile, cruel, intolerable.

There was a fine line between keeping his dignity and our downfall. I couldn’t bear the thought of him hiding. But I cringed at the way Kat smiled at me when she hung up the phone with him. It was a sardonic victory that I saw.

I wasn’t a better woman because Luke left me terrified and guarded. I was different, sure, less trusting, that was a given. But I wasn’t finished living. And from what I knew of the man I met, he wasn’t either, despite his deeper issues. He had a shitty marriage, a marriage he kept hidden. There was nothing subtle about it. It was a glaring obstacle and he somehow expected me to forgive him despite the gravity of it. Maybe he never expected us to become a we. But then again, neither did I.

“Another bill collector spelled my name the wrong way,” Jenny chimed in as I hummed in agreement.

Cameron and I had already hurdled our mountains before we met. Alone and in our own way, we fought the good fight and won to give ourselves a chance. And when the other shoe dropped, I ran from his scars instead of brushing over them with fingertips of admiration. That’s the kind of love I expected, so why hadn’t I given it? No matter what cross he’d bared it helped him evolve to the man who I loved and who loved me.

“Guess I don’t have to pay them.”

“Pardon?” I said looking over at her.

“They spelled my name wrong, I said I won’t have to pay the bill.”

“That’s not exactly how it works, Jenny,” I said absently.

“No, but to try to escape it on a technicality, it would represent the name well.”

I frowned. “I’m not following.”

“Zingaro is Italian for gypsy. I told you that when we met, remember, but I promised not to skip out on rent.”

Say hello to your gypsy neighbor.

“You forgot. It’s okay sweetheart it was a long time ago.”

My jaw dropped.

“Abbie. Are you okay?”

I looked over at Jenny and nodded. I was so far from okay.

Bree’s words struck next.

It was like kismet or fate or destiny or that stuff you don’t believe in.

Jenny studied me from where she stood. “Okay, well if you get hungry I have some stuffed shells in the freezer,” she said before she shuffled back into her apartment and shut the door while I sat stunned.

How much proof did I need? How much more could he have shown me? He’d proven himself in every way. Before I found out about Kat, I had complete faith in Cameron. He’d earned my trust. I believed him, he made sure of it.

It’s really not so hard to believe in me, is it?

My eyes flooded as my heart sank.

He didn’t ask me for anything other than to love him back. He never manipulated me or used my words against me. Why was I punishing us both for misconception when I never fucking asked? When I refused to let him confess. When no matter how cliché his truth was in women of jilted past—those who unknowingly entangled themselves with married men—I had refused to let his attempt at honesty be enough to cushion the blow. I erupted even as he begged me not too.

Abbie, I had no idea what this would be. You have to believe I didn’t know it was you I was looking for. This, us, it means everything to me. I didn’t expect this.

In hiding our paths and with Kat’s confession I realized we’d triggered each other’s biggest fears in seconds. He’d turned into someone I didn’t recognize right before my eyes while I hurt him in the same way Kat had while he lay crippled in her wake.

We had hindered and hurt ourselves despite our warnings. Did that make us worse off, volatile, or just vulnerable?

It made us human.