Island of Secrets and Scars

Maybe her friend had a point. She didn’t mean not to tell the others about herself. But one secret would lead to another and another. She couldn’t risk opening the box. She shrugged. “There isn’t much to share. I’m happier here. “

Esme narrowed her eyes. Cam fidgeted, straightening her already straight shirt.

“Then you must’ve been miserable before.”

Esme’s words stole the air from her lungs. Cameron hadn’t been miserable before. She’d been devastated and heartbroken. But more importantly . . . “I’m happy here. You make it sound—”

“You’re surviving here, Doc. That’s okay. You and me, we came here to survive. But sooner or later, you have to thrive. Arabella makes you happy, but you don’t truly live with anyone but her. You deserve to live.”

Tears filled Cameron’s eyes, blurring her vision. She turned away from her friend. All this time, she’d thought she’d hidden her unhappiness. No, not unhappiness. She wasn’t unhappy. She just wasn’t happy. God, did that even make sense?

Esme patted her back. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just think you deserve some happiness and maybe a little closure.”

She nodded. Yes, she needed closure. Walking away from Ian had been necessary but hadn’t given her the closure either of them needed. Maybe his being here was a blessing. Perhaps if they finally talked, she could move on without him. Maybe she could finally awaken from her own coma.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised her friend.

Yawning, Esme kneaded her back.

“How long have you been here?” Cameron asked. “You should head home and get some rest. I’ll be here all night. Brodie’s in good hands.”

The pregnant woman gazed down at her husband. “You’ll talk to him? Let him know you’re here during the night?”

“Absolutely. And if anything changes, I’ll send someone for you. I promise.”

Sighing, Esme took her husband’s hand. “Can I just have another minute to say goodbye?”

“Of course.” Cameron offered a smile, rubbing her hand over her friend’s back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Esme returned her smile, then waited for her to retreat. As Cameron made her way back to her office, Esme’s voice started again. A fresh wave of determination swept through Cameron. Brodie would be okay. He would wake up. He would adjust to his new physical limitations and get back to life with his family. Anything else would be unacceptable.

She stepped into her office. The box still set atop her desk. Thank God Keso hadn’t shown up. Not that he’d recognize the box, but he’d only have to open the lid to know what it meant to her. And be upset.

She dropped into her desk chair and slid the box closer. With a trembling hand, she lifted the lid. Her past stared back at her. On top laid the picture she’d taken from the nursery the day she left. Tears filled her eyes. She took the picture in her hands. The edges were worn from too much handling. She’d have to be more careful, or the picture would eventually tear. Already there were places where, over the years, her tears had dropped on the image and smeared the film. Pressing the photograph to her chest, she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Letting her mind wander, she traveled back to before, to a time when she’d felt her life was complete and certain. Could she have really been so wrong?

* * *

Ian released a sigh of relief when he spotted Cam in her desk chair with her head laid back and her eyes closed. From what he could tell, she hadn’t slept more than a few hours since he’d landed on the island. Even that rest had been in short, stolen naps throughout the clinic. A smile tipped the corners of his mouth. Finally, with her defenses down, he could just admire her. Watching Cameron sleep had once been a favorite pastime of his. Since he rarely slept more than a few hours at a time, he often woke at night. When Cameron had shared his bed, he’d lie there, holding her and watching her sleep. Even after her accident, when she no longer welcomed his touch, he’d sometimes slip into their room and watch over her.

His gaze drifted from her serene face to the object lying in her lap. He crept closer to get a better look. When he did, his breath caught in his lungs and his heart squeezed in his chest. With a trembling hand, he picked up the snapshot. Wes had taken the photo just days before their world had exploded. His friend had captured them mid-laugh, leaning toward each other. Ian’s hand rested on the small mound of their daughter pressing against Cameron’s tank top. He swallowed, focusing on the wide grin on Cameron’s lovely face. Her blue eyes squinted with her laughter. She looked at him as though he were all she could see, all she wanted to see. He’d felt the same way. In that moment, Cameron and their daughter had been his entire world.

Why had she kept this? After she left, he’d been sure he’d imagined the picture, the moment, everything. Now, in his hands, he held proof he’d once made her happy. He surveyed the desk. A spark of recognition flared to life when he spotted the small wooden box.

Cameron’s keepsake box.

She’d kept the box in the bottom drawer of her bedside table when they lived together. He’d never looked inside, though she’d never kept its contents hidden. There had been no secrets between the two of them. Or so he’d thought.

“What are you doing here?”

Startled by the sudden sound in the silent clinic, he jumped, letting go of the picture. The image fluttered to the desk. Cameron’s blue gaze flickered to the snapshot. Her jaw tightened, but otherwise she didn’t react.

“Sometimes I think I imagined it,” he confessed.

She turned her attention to him, taking him in with her stare. “What?”

“You, the baby, how happy we were. I think that’s part of why I still have all your things. It’s proof that you and our life existed.”

Her lips twisted as she turned her head away.

He stepped closer, taking the picture in his hand again. Telltale smears along the image showed she’d cried when looking at it. Hope sprang in his chest. He didn’t want her sad, but maybe this meant she still cared. “Do you remember why we were smiling?”

She shook her head. “I don’t remember before,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her, “just after. You…”

Taking her hand, he drew her out of her seat. “I pulled you against me. I leaned down, and I said ‘God, I love you so much’”

His lips brushed over hers as he spoke, just as they had that day long ago. She bit her bottom lip and looked up at him. The nervousness in her gaze confirmed his suspicions that she hadn’t understood how much he’d meant those words. Or how much he still did.

He gripped her hips, then pulled her flush against him. A small sound escaped her parted lips as her breasts melded to his chest and her hips met his.

“And what did you do, Cam? Do you remember?”

Slowly, she nodded.

“Show me,” he urged. “Please, baby.”