Island of Secrets and Scars

“Of course not.”

She slid atop the picnic table, then planted her feet on the bench below. Shoving his hands into the pockets of his loose khakis, Wes leaned a hip against the far end of the table. Neither of them spoke. They’d often sat like this in her old life. Nights when they’d finally finished working on patients in some far-off hellhole, they would sit by a fire, share a drink, and say nothing. But this. This wasn’t one of those easy silences. Tension filled this quiet.

Finally, Wes spoke. “I did everything I could to save your baby, Cam. I went for her first, knowing you’d want that. I couldn’t save her.” His voice cracked, matching the fracture in her heart.

Tears blurred her vision, but she continued to stare out over the water. Even after six years, she wasn’t ready for this conversation. She wasn’t ready to examine what had gone wrong. She wasn’t ready to let go of the anger and hurt that she’d clung to. In her soul, she knew Wes wouldn’t have done less than his best to save her unborn baby, but if she no longer had the anger to hold onto, she might not have anything left inside her.

“You didn’t have to leave Ian over it,” he continued. “I would have stayed away. I love you both, but if letting go of those friendships would’ve saved your relationship, I wouldn’t have hesitated.”

She shook her head against his words. Wes staying away wouldn’t have changed anything. She couldn’t have stayed with Ian after what she’d seen in the jungle. Even if the baby had survived, she couldn’t have returned home and pretended he still loved her.

“I didn’t leave because of you,” she finally answered. “I couldn’t stay there. You staying away wouldn’t have mattered. I told you—we were over before we left Africa.” Hell, maybe they’d been over before they went to Africa. She had no way of knowing how long Ian and Mallory had betrayed her. Or if Mallory was the first.

“Because of the baby? Cam, you two had so much—”

“Stop it.” She held up a hand, as if the gesture could keep his words at bay. “Before the baby. I was on my way to back to camp to pack up and leave Africa. I planned to be out of Ian’s life by the time he made it back to the States.”

“What?” Wes stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the ocean. “You knew you were leaving him? How could you have pretended so callously—”

“No.” Pushing up from the table, she stood nose to nose with her former friend. “If anyone was pretending, it was Ian. Pretending he loved me. Pretending he wanted our child. Pretending he gave a damn when she died.”

“He grieved.”

She snickered. Turning, she pushed her fisted hands on her hips and paced away. Of course, he grieved. Even a selfish bastard would be upset that his own flesh and blood, a child not even given the chance to live, had died. But his grief wasn’t the same as hers.

“You should’ve stayed, so the two of you could’ve helped each other heal.”

She spun to face Wes. “I didn’t want to help him heal.” A sob broke her yell. Tears blurred her vision. She’d never admitted that truth aloud. Everyone had expected her to be Ian’s rock, to help ease his pain. But he deserved every ounce of pain he felt.

Wes stared back at her. His mouth opened wide. Finally, he clamped his lips together and shook his head. “Who are you? It’s like I never even knew the real you.”

She smirked. “No. Neither of us ever knew the real Ian. He fooled us, made us believe. I don’t know. Maybe he genuinely cares about you, but he didn’t give a damn about me or our child.” That knowledge still had the power to crush her. Even now, six years later, the thought that he’d so expertly deceived her left her feeling stupid and empty.

“He’s been a fucking wreck since you left.”

Guilt. She wouldn’t let herself believe he felt anything else.

“He wanted to save me,” she whispered. “He thought he could snap me out of my funk.” She air quoted the last words, because that’s what people who didn’t know what it felt like to have your entire world literally blow up called it. A funk. As if she simply had a bad day and could just decide to feel better.

“Of course, he wanted to save you. He loved you.”

She shook her head. “He loved fixing things. Playing God. Isn’t that what you surgeons do?”

Wes’s eyes narrowed. A muscle in his jaw jumped.

“He couldn’t save us, Wes. He was what screwed us up. He was the reason I was in that jungle. Why I was distracted.”

The other man tensed, then stepped forward. “Ian was in the jungle?”

Oh yeah, he was. Hiding in the brush with Mallory wrapped around him like a damn vine. She nodded.

“But when I found you, you were alone. Ian and Mallory were at the hut when I brought you in.”

Nausea swirled in her stomach. She’d suspected Ian had still been with Mallory, perhaps protecting her from the chaos, as Cameron lay burnt and bleeding in the jungle with their baby dying inside her. But hearing Wes’s confirmation made her heart ache with fresh wounds.

“I saw them before,” she told him. “I guess they were able to by-pass the destruction.”

Wes cocked his head, as if the shift would make understanding her easier. “Them? They were together in the jungle? What are you saying, Cam?”

She’d never told anyone what she’d seen before the attack. Maybe she’d been embarrassed. Maybe she’d hoped that not saying the words aloud would somehow make what she saw untrue. Either way, she’d remained silent while Ian played the role of doting, concerned fiancé.

“I saw Ian and Mallory in the jungle. They were—” Emotion rose, tightening her chest, making speaking impossible.

Wes’s jaw clenched and he stepped toward her. “They were what?”

Even all these years later, the thought of Ian touching another woman made her stomach churn. She wiped at her stinging eyes with a shaking hand. “They were kissing. He had her in his arms. I saw him kiss her.”

Her friend stared back at her. His expression never changed. Just when she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her, he shook his head. “Bullshit.”

Anger replaced her earlier sadness. She’d had several reasons for keeping Ian’s betrayal to herself. Not being believed had never crossed her mind.

She blinked. “Excuse me.”

Wes shook his head harder. “You didn’t see Ian with Mallory. That didn’t happen. He didn’t . . .” He stared back at her. Defeated. “He loved you. He still loves you. Why the hell would he do that?”

“He didn’t want the baby.” Her voice trembled with the truth. “I heard him. When I was leaving, trying not to see anymore, I heard him tell her he didn’t want a child.” And maybe that’s what had hurt the most. After they’d returned from Africa, maybe Ian had wanted to help her heal. Maybe he’d wanted to stay with her and move forward. But he only wanted her because she was no longer pregnant. She couldn’t shake the feeling he’d been relieved she’d lost the baby. And she hated him for it.

“Cameron.” Wes met her gaze. His eyes were serious, unwavering. “Are you sure? This doesn’t make sense.”

“I know what I saw. I know what I heard. So, I left so he could stop pretending to love me.” A brave tear finally fell over her lashes, making the way for a flood of others. “I wanted him to be happy, Wes. I didn’t leave to punish any of you. I wanted to stop punishing myself.” Living in that apartment, seeing the life she’d never have with Ian, had been an exercise in daily suffering.

She swiped at the tears on her face. She despised crying, but over the past two days, she couldn’t seem to stop herself. As if the plane incident and seeing Ian again weren’t traumatic enough on their own, they’d had to coincide.

“I believe you saw what you say,” Wes told her. “But I can’t believe he didn’t want you or the baby.” He ran a hand through his full blond hair, leaving tracks in his wake. “You haven’t seen him the last few years. He still mourns both of you. When I went to tell him about this assignment…” He clamped his mouth shut, then looked away.

She rested her hand on his shoulder. “What?”