***

I stare out the window of the car while Tom drives me to the airport. He'd already paid for my ticket, which meant that he already knew she wanted me gone but never told me.

"I know you're mad at me," he says.

I'm not.

He adds, "But I had no choice. It's what Lucy wanted, and I think we both agree that what Lucy wants is most important now."

He's right, but what I want should be important too. What happened doesn't just affect her, it affects both of us. I stay quiet, because clearly what I have to say doesn't matter.

***

We speak on the phone every day.

The first day, we spoke for an hour. I don't know what we spoke about, but that wasn't the point. The point was she was talking to me. But just like at the hospital, each day she became more distant. So distant that she never even told me she was home. She said she'd be two weeks. It's only been one.

"Why didn't you tell me you were home?"

"I don't know," she says quietly.

"Can I come by?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Cam. I'll call you tomorrow."

Then she hangs up.

I pick up my keys, get in my car, and start driving to her house. Because I can't not. She's my heart. And I can't survive without my heart.

*

I knock, but there's no answer. The lights are on, so I know she's in there.

"Lucy!" I knock again.

And wait.

Nothing.

I use the key she gave me before she left. Shit, it feels like a lifetime ago.

She's sitting on the couch covered in a blanket with balled up tissues all around her. She's crying so hard that her shoulders heave with every sob.

I get to her faster than I thought possible. "Baby, what are you doing?"

She doesn't look up. She doesn't even acknowledge my presence. She just keeps crying, her hands gripping the edge of a picture frame to her chest.

I sit on the couch next to her and wrap my arms around her.

"I told you not to come here," she shouts through her tears.

I swallow the hurt, because I know she's feeling it too. "Lucy, come on. You need me here."

"No!" She pushes me away. "That's the problem, Cam! I need you. I've always needed you! And you can't always be there. Not anymore."

"What are you talking about?" I try to keep my voice even, but I'm struggling. "Baby—"

"Stop!" She sits up higher, gripping the frame tighter. "I can't deal with this. I can't be with you anymore!"

I suck in a shaky breath and let it out in a whoosh. Along with any sense of calm I've tried to hold on to. "Why the fuck are you pushing away? I've done nothing but want to be close to you and you keep doing it!"

She cries harder.

I shake my head—my gaze catching sight of the picture in the frame. "Lucy," I whisper, trying to pry it from her fingers.

"No," she sobs. "It's mine."

I pull the frame harder, knowing that whatever it is is causing her this type of hurt—the type that shouldn't exist. She finally releases it, giving up the will to keep it to herself.

I see the picture.

And my world goes black.

"You see?" she says, pointing at it.

I stand up, just so I know that I'm still alive, that I'm still able to breathe through the pain. I look down at the frame. A sketch. The one I made her after our first time. The one with her room in our future house. The one with her huge armchair, and all the little ones in front of it. The ones for all the children we wanted to have.

"You see?" she says again, quieter this time.

But I can't. I can't see through my tears.

She sucks in a breath, trying to hold it in so that her cries aren't so loud.

"That's what you wanted, Cameron."

For once in my life I want her to be quiet. I don't want to hear what she has to say. I can't take it.

"That's what you pictured our lives to be and I can't give you that. How can we be together? How can I stay with you knowing that I can't give you what you've always wanted? How?" Her voice is strained by the power of her cries.

She can barely speak.

I can barely hear.

"I have to live with that, Cam. I have to live with the fact that I'm the reason you don't get your dream. And I can't do it. I'm sorry, but I can't."

I wipe my eyes with my sleeve and look at her. And that's all I do. Because I don't have the words. I don't have the strength.

"I'm right, Cam."

I shake my head.

"It's okay," she says. "You're allowed to be mad at me."

"Shut up," I clip.

She cries harder.

"None of this shit means anything without you. You think those dreams make sense without you, Lucy? You're making up lies in your head because you're a coward. I've tried to be with you every day since the miscarriage. I would've been right there, right next to you. You pushed away. You didn't want me there. Don't use this as an excuse. If you don't want me—if you don't love me anymore—if it's too hard for you, say it!"

"It is! It's too hard! You deserve to have that! You deserve to be with someone that can give you that. Maybe you should go be with Roxy!"

And at her words, I lose it. Completely lose it. A rush of anger washes through me. And before I can stop myself, I've lifted the frame in my hand and thrown it against the wall.

She screams, a scream so loud it makes my ears ring. "NOOOO!"

She's kneeling on the floor now, with the shattered frame in front of her. "I HATE YOU!"

"Fuck." I try to get to her, to kneel next to her but she pushes me away. "Lucy, I'm sorry."

"Fuck you!" she bawls. "This is all I had, Cameron. This was everything to me. This was our forever and you ruined it."

"Baby."

I'm a mess.

I fucked up.

My head whips to the sound of the door opening. Lucas walks in with the rest of her brothers. "What the f—" he cuts himself off. "Jesus Christ, Lucy, you're bleeding."

I turn back to Lucy, who's frantically trying to pick out the sketch from the frame and cutting her fingers on the glass. I don't think she even feels it.

"Lucy, stop," I whisper, grasping her wrists.

She looks up at me. Her eyes narrowed. But I see it clearly. There is no calm. Just the storm. "GET OUT!" She pushes my shoulders until I fall back. "GET OUT!" she yells again. She pounds against my chest with her closed fists. "I HATE YOU! GET OUT!"

I do nothing. I sit on my heels and let her hit me. Let her yell. Let her get angry.

Lucas's arms wrap around her chest and lift her off the ground. "Just go, Cam."

"What's happening?" a tiny voice says. Lachlan's crying in Leo's arms.

"Cameron, you need to leave," Lucas says again.

I wipe my face on my forearm, and take one more look at her. "Forever, Luce."

And then I do what everyone wants.

I leave.

-LUCY-

Lucas sets me on the floor of my bathroom and squats in front of me. "You okay, Goosey?"