Hugh nodded.
“You know, when the doctor told me that I might never walk again, I really thought that was going to be as bad as my day was going to get. I thought, well, Cameron, the only way is up now, but here we are.”
“Here we are,” Hugh repeated. “I’m sorry I told you, but I thought the longer I waited, the harder it would be.”
“Get her back in here.”
“But your dad’s waiting. He’ll be dying to see you.”
“He can wait five more minutes. We need to talk,” I demanded.
I needed to talk to my girlfriend or whatever Muriel was.
My head was spinning, and not just from the drugs.
Why would Muriel tell me she loved me—loved us—and that she wanted to be with us forever, when she knew she was leaving? She wasn’t a liar. There must have been a misunderstanding, or Hugh was being his old cynical self, or something. There was no way Muriel would let us down like that.
While I waited for them to return, I tentatively reached down to touch my legs. To my delight, I felt something when I prodded them; not pain, exactly, but a pins and needles sensation that hadn’t been there before.
I leaned back against my pillows, and I’d just started drifting off again when Hugh came back in the room with Muriel. Their faces were grim.
“We can do this another time,” Hugh offered. “You look like you need sleep.”
I waved the offer away. “If I sleep now, I’ll only dream of Muriel dumping us to be on The Bachelor.” It pleased me to see their serious expressions soften ever so slightly.
“I’m so sorry, Cameron,” Muriel started. “I—”
“Just tell us the truth, Muri,” I said. “We’re big boys. We can take it.”
“What we can’t take is the constant flip-flopping.” Hugh joined in, and I glared at him for his harsh tone. He sighed and adopted a calmer manner. “You’ve wavered between staying and going, loving us and not wanting to have anything to do with us, a dozen times since last night. It isn’t fair.”
Muriel looked chastised, and I wanted to reach out and comfort her, but Hugh was right. She’d done more U-turns than Vic did without his GPS, and I hadn’t even been with them most of the day.
“So, what’s this job Hugh told me about?” I asked, hoping to get the conversation flowing again.
“It’s a reality series,” Muriel started.
“Like Keeping Up with the Kardashians?” I asked, and she grinned.
“I knew you’d know the kind of show I’m talking about. Yeah, so cameras would follow me around, and I’d just... live my life, I guess.”
“And she’d get two hundred thousand dollars for it,” Hugh added.
Muriel glared across at him. “It’s not about that. Not that the money wouldn’t be nice, but it’s not my main consideration.”
“Two hundred grand would be more than nice.” I looked over at Hugh, who was slouching moodily on the seat. “Dude, that’s a house. She could buy a whole house at twenty-three. We can’t deny her that.”
“It’s not about the money,” Muriel said. “If I did the show, I’d have to live in LA, and two hundred does not buy you a house there unless you want to live in a parking garage. It’s more of a long-term career thing; it would be good to launch my fashion designs, you know.”
“I totally get it,” I said, and it was true.
Would it kill me to lose Muriel again? Yes, of course, it would. Given the choice, I wouldn’t want to let her out of my sight for the rest of my life, but it was not my choice to make — it was hers. And it was also her choice whether to go public with any relationship, let alone a three-way one that would naturally raise eyebrows and maybe damage her brand before it even got off the ground.
“I’m sorry I told you I loved you. I’ve just been so worried about you. I got carried away. I mean, it’s true, of course, but I should have waited until I was certain of my plans before getting your hopes up.”
“My hopes are always up. It’s how I live, so don’t worry, it’s fine.”
“So, you’re doing the show then?” Hugh demanded, breaking the conciliatory mood I’d managed to create. “You’re acting like you still don’t know, but you have to know by now.”
“I honestly don’t.” Muriel’s voice was rough with frustration and tiredness. “I don’t even know if y’all would have me now that I’ve messed you around so much.”
“Good point. We’re done with you, Muriel, we never liked you anyway,” I said, and the smirk on her face told me that my sarcasm had reached my tone. “Look, why don’t you sleep on it? Take your time and come back whenever you’re ready.”
She nodded and stood to leave. Before heading for the door, she reached down and gave me another kiss; this one sweet and tender, and she pulled away with a sad smile.