Mikhail was away for most of the following week, and that began a pattern that continued for the next several weeks—gone for several days, then a brief visit for a day or two. I understood he had rehearsals and other preparations keeping him busy, but still... it was hard to have him gone during such a difficult time. And even when he was in town, he insisted on staying at the town hall instead of with me as I'd hoped. He said that he felt it was better that way while I was in counseling with Cam—he didn't want to interfere with that process. So really, I didn't see nearly as much of him as I'd have liked.
On the other hand, I was beginning to feel less stressed out and panic-stricken around Cam. At least, I stopped feeling physically ill at the sight or thought of him. I even allowed him to come over and visit once or twice. He tried to get me to let him help out with my farm chores, but even if I'd been so inclined, he really wasn't up to the work. Even in my current condition, dizzy spells and all, I was still stronger than him. But I did let him check on me to be sure I was okay, partly for his peace of mind and partly because I knew it didn't hurt to have someone look in on me just to be safe, now that I was on my own again.
Our second session was a three and a half weeks after the first, and once again I had scheduled my prenatal along with it. I hadn't been able to schedule it for before our session this time, though, as she was unusually booked up that day. So instead she agreed to stay a little late and check me out after counseling.
I arrived at the clinic a little late. I was nearing the end of the second trimester, and things that I once took for granted were no longer so easy for me to do. Putting my shoes on, for instance, had become a bit of a challenge, and I also got out of breath quickly when walking and had to pause to rest frequently. As I hurried and took a seat, I apologized and explained my difficulties. Dr. Ayame just smiled in amusement, but Cam looked surprised. "I had no idea that things like that would be so hard for you," he said after a moment's thought. "Pregnancy must be pretty difficult, especially when you don't have anyone to give you a hand."
"Kiddo, you've just said a mouthful," Dr. Ayame replied as he just looked at me with concern. I nodded in agreement with a wry smile.
"All right," Dr. Ayame said, "let's get started, shall we? Last week, Cam concluded that the cause of his reaction was the fear that he didn't deserve you—that Mikhail was a better choice for you—and that you'd eventually realize that and leave him. Is that right?" Cam looked down at the floor and nodded. "So this week..." she started to say, but I cut in.
"Wait. If you don't mind, I have a question I would really like answered." She nodded, and I turned to look at Cam. "Why did you sleep with that girl? I honestly thought you seemed like you didn't want a divorce up until then. So why? And then why did you have to go and rub salt in the wound and tell me that she was better in bed than me?"
Dr. Ayame eyebrows shot up in surprise—apparently this was news to her. Cam turned beet red and stared at his hands fidgeting nervously on his lap, unable to look me in the eyes. In a low voice, he said, "I... I didn't mean what I said. I was just so angry, and... jealous. I said things I shouldn't have said, and that weren't even true, just to... I guess just to hurt you like I was hurting. It was stupid and childish and... and cruel. I'm... I'm sorry."
"That doesn't explain why you slept with her in the first place," I pointed out.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I... I know. I don't have a good excuse. But I'll tell you the reason, even though I know that it's no excuse for my behavior. You see, you were right—I really did want you back. I was mad at myself for how I lashed out at you when we heard you were pregnant, and I was mad at you for getting mad at me, for slapping me and running away. I-I don't blame you for being mad, but rational or not, I was still angry. And then later... when you said you wanted a divorce, well... it just played into my fears. You know, that you would regret your decision and leave me for... for him. But... mad and hurt as I was, I still didn't want to let you go. I... wanted you back. But I didn't know what to do—I felt like I'd crossed some lines that I couldn't just uncross, and I didn't know how to fix what I'd broken.
