Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series) (17 page)

"She plays it off, but she's like a princess finally finding her place in the castle, isn't she?" Tabitha whispered, slipping an arm around Cameron's waist as Cass disappeared behind a screen with the bridal consultant.

"She'll be a lovely bride for sure, with that starry-eyed expression," Cameron answered quietly, the sound of rustling floating out from behind the screen. Cass gave a squeal, and shortly after, she emerged from the screen encased in the strapless gown she'd already rejected.

"What happened?" Cameron asked.

Cass grinned, her excitement lighting her eyes and causing little swishing noises as she sashayed through the room. "It was too big!" she crowed proudly. “The running has done a lot for my confidence, which is the ultimate goal, but wow, it sure has paid off in other ways!”

“I’ll just be right back,” the consultant giggled, double-checking the gown tag as she headed for the door. The women nodded and muttered their thanks as the consultant promised to return with a smaller gown, settling in to talk while they waited.

"How are things with Mac?" Cass asked, standing stiffly in front of the mirror, twisting back and forth to look once again at the gown she wore. One arm was curled around her stomach, the other raised as she gripped the upper edge of the bodice to keep it in place.

"Things are okay I guess," Cameron said cautiously, dropping to a bench and fidgeting with the pile of bridal shoes Cass had yet to try on. "I had kind of a breakdown with him the other day. The ten-year anniversary wigged me out."

"Oh Cam," Tabitha said. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Or me," Cass murmured. "I don't know all the details of what happened to you, and we're still new to each other, but my marrying Drew makes us family. You can always call on either of us if you need someone to lean on."

"I know," Cameron answered. "I just get so sick of people looking at me and seeing a victim. God, I get sick of looking at myself and seeing a victim. It’s nice to have so many people to lean on, but just for once, I wanted to stand on my own, without leaning on someone else. But breaking down like that, I mean --" She broke off with a sigh. "I should have known better than to plan the date for that day. I should have stayed home."

"Did he not handle it well? What happened?" Tabitha asked. She'd lifted a veil, carrying it over to Cass, who made a face and shook her head. Replacing the veil on the table, Tabitha lifted a tiara instead, which Cass seemed to like.

"He did well, actually," Cameron said, a slight smile lifting the corners of her lips. "He found a place to take me that was quiet, and he waited it out until I was myself again. I told him what happened."

"Oh wow," Tabitha breathed, turning from the mirror, where she'd been arranging the sparkling tiara on Cass's head. "You told him, for real?"

"I did. And you know, he took it well, better than I thought he would."

"That's really great, Cameron," Cass said, forgetting to hold her gown up. It slipped slightly and she panicked; squealing and rushing to regain her grip on the upper hem of the gown as the other women laughed quietly.

"What did Mac say about everything? Did you tell him all of it?" Tabitha asked, pretending not to notice the blatantly curious look that appeared on Cass's face.

"I did," Cameron answered with a sigh. "It was just time, you know? Time to tell a man, give him a chance to accept it and deal with it, a chance to still see me through the memories. For ten years of my life, I've only lived sort of halfway, hidden behind a wall like some kind of fragile little thing. And I'm sick of wasting my life being afraid, being ashamed. I think telling him was part leftover panic, but I'm sure it was part defiance. Maybe part of me was daring him to walk away. I'm just sick of being afraid, and it was more than past time to reach out. And yet I'm afraid anyway."

"Of what?" Tabitha murmured.

"I don't want to be a victim. Not in my own eyes and not in yours. Not to my family, not to my friends. And not to Mac. I don't want him to look at me and see someone that’s helpless and broken, not after I've struggled so hard for so long to maintain a normal life. I want him to see
me
, to see
Cameron
, and not see my PTSD."

"Oh, honey," Tabitha said, edging a stack of shoes farther over and sinking down beside Cameron. "He can't know you at all if all he sees is post-traumatic stress. You've come so much further than that, Cam, and you're not that broken little girl anymore. If he looks at you and sees a brutalized woman, he's not looking hard enough."

"He won't see that," Cass said quietly.

"You don't think so?" Cameron asked, turning to face Cass.

"He didn't with me. I was his patient, and he never made me feel like a patient, you know? I felt safe with him, and I could say anything. I could cry, I could laugh, I could be angry. I could tell him I wanted to die, that I wasn’t worth living, or wasn’t good enough or fit enough for this or that thing. And he’d always disagree, and always encourage me, but he never treated me like I was anything less than a normal, every-day woman. He could see through my suicidal moments, he could see through how desperate I was feeling, all of it. He could see right down to who I was underneath the hurt, and he'll see you too, Cameron. He told me once that I'm more than the number on my scale. And if you give him a shot, he'll tell you that you're more than just what's in the past."

Cameron smiled, her eyes flooding. "You really think so?"

"I know so. What you've told me about him definitely looks different than what I know him to look like, you know, because I saw him in his professional capacity. You get to see another side of him, the side of him that's really him when he’s not tied into the professional side of his job. But leather jacket or not, he really sounds like a good guy."

"He's been really patient with me," Cameron murmured, her eyes in her lap, her fingers twisting nervously as she spoke.

"Patient?" Tabitha asked, confused.

"We haven't, um, you know," Cameron edged.

"You haven't? Not at all?" Cass asked.

Cameron shook her head, closing her eyes and sighing. "Not at all. I can barely let him touch me without tensing up. I don't know how to not do it; I've never had a guy stick around through it before." Her cheeks flamed as she spoke, humiliation weighing heavily on her shoulders.

"Maybe this one will," Cass whispered, walking over. Risking exposure, she leaned forward to wrap her arms around Cameron briefly before standing again.

"Well, you don't know unless you try, right?" Cameron asked. "I'm just terrified he'll see me as a case, a person that's broken and needs to be fixed. But I like him, you know? I want him to be my guy, not my doctor."

"Give him credit, Cam," Tabitha said. "He is a psychotherapist. It's what he does, part of who he is. So sometimes he'll slip. You have to know that he'd do that even if what happened to you hadn't happened. But it doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t see through to who you are now."

"I don't think he’ll slip like that," Cass said. "Not often, at least. I mean, Tabitha's right; that's part of who he is, but it's not his whole life. His job is a benefit to you, you know. He has the training to understand what you’ve been through, and to help when you do need it. Maybe he'll even have the intuition to know when you don't need it. Like the other day, with the panic attack on the date. How many guys would have known what to do?"

"You're right," Cameron answered. "You're totally right. I just feel like it's been so long since I've trusted anyone new, so it's scary, you know? Like it's outside my comfort zone in a really big way."

"Do you dislike it?" Tabitha asked.

Smiling, Cameron's eyes drifted to the discarded wedding gowns hanging from a rack in the corner. "No, I don't dislike it at all. It's kind of nice to stretch outside my norm, actually. It's just me trying to manage my fears, you know, against the highs of whatever it is that Mac and I have between us. Hoping that I can open up in time and that he can maintain his patience until I'm there."

"He will," Cass answered.

"So are we planning a luscious and beautiful bride or what?" the consultant gushed, breezing back into the room. "Let's get this gown on and see if you can rock it down the aisle, shall we?"

***

"Are you really all that worried about things with Mac?" Tabitha asked. She linked her arm with Cameron's as they walked through the parking lot to the street. Cass had gone to meet Drew for dinner, so Cameron and Tabitha were walking down toward their office building to eat together at the diner.

"I am," Cameron answered. "Like I said, it's important to me that he can still see me when he looks at me. I don't want to be the poster child for PTSD, and I don't want people to look at me and see a victim. I've worked hard to move on from what happened, and I'm proud of the progress I've made. I don't want to lose it in admitting what happened, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Do you think that will happen with Mac? That he'll lose sight of you in the other stuff?"

"Honestly, no." Cameron grinned, but her eyes didn't show the fullness of her smile. "I mean, I'm conflicted, sure. But I think as a therapist, Mac is very aware of himself, you know? Like I feel like if he started seeing me differently, he might know how to get himself on track, if that makes sense."

"It does to me. But if he gets caught up in it, and he starts thinking too much about all the stuff you went through, do you think you'll be able to tell? Or that you’ll be able to talk about it with him?" Tabitha stopped suddenly, watching a car roar past them on the street. Her eyebrows drew together in frustration, and they walked on.

"I think so, but Mac and I haven't dated a lot. I've seen him enough to know that I want to keep seeing him, and I think he feels the same way. But I don't know every little nuance of his behavior. All I can say on that is that I’d see if there was a drastic difference. I've gotten used to little things, like the certain ways he reaches out for me, things like that. I'd notice if he didn't reach for my hand or if he was purposely holding himself apart from me. I think."

"And what then? Like, that's the worst-case scenario, right? Watching him back away after he knows everything?"

Cameron nodded, thinking before she gave voice to her thoughts. "Yeah, that's definitely something I don't want to watch. I know I've only dated him a short while, but I know there's something real there, and I don't want to lose that, you know? Like a sense of belonging to someone? He's talked about that before, about how much he misses being married."

"Do you think he's still grieving over Alex?" Tabitha asked.

"I don't know that he'll ever stop," Cameron said, opening the door to the diner. They walked together to a booth and slid into the benches opposite each other. Signaling a waitress, Cameron waited for her nod and then slid the menus to the edge of the table. They had no need for them, since Tabitha and Cameron ate there often during their workdays, and they always ate the same things.

"I don't know if I could do it," Tabitha said, watching Cameron closely. "I'd always wonder if he was wishing for Alex. I'm insecure like that, I guess."

"I don't really feel her presence like that though. She's more like - I don't know. Like a friend I've never met, maybe. Like, she's there, and I know she'll always be there. But I don't feel ... compared. Not yet at least. I don't know if that will come up, but I think I'm willing to get there; I want to find out."

"You really like him then, huh, Cameron? I'm not sure you've ever talked this much about a guy before! So, what will happen if he does back away? Do you think you could pursue him? Or would you let him walk away?"

"I don't know," Cameron said. "I like to think I'd at least confront him if I felt like he was pulling away, or if what I went through is too much for him. But I don't know, I can’t know until we get there. I showed him my tattoo," she finished, just in time for the waitress to settle two plates in front of them.

"Mmm, meatloaf and mashed potatoes," Tabitha murmured, reaching to squirt ketchup over the top of her meatloaf. She laughed when Cameron scowled at her plate.