32 Memories - Cameron Dallas

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i'm really sorry this story has been getting so many slow updates. i know i keep saying that every time but i really mean it okay??

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Mary's POV

I wanted so badly to yell at Cameron and call him a monster. That's all I wanted, but for some reason it did not seem right. I also couldn't force myself to do so. Not with that look on his face, filled with sorrow and pure guilt.

"I don't even know what to say," My voice comes out quiet and hesitant. "How could you do that?"

"Mary, you have to understand that I have never hated myself this much before. I didn't want to tell you the details of that story because I felt like I was reliving that moment." He sniffles. No tears have left his eyes but they were bloodshot and teary. "I wish nothing more than to be the one that was hurt badly in the accident."

"There's nothing we can do about that now." I say.

"If anything, I wish I would have died in that car accident. I don't deserve to be alive anymore."

"Cameron!" I yell at him, my eyes wide. "How could you say such a thing? Nobody deserves to die, no matter what mistake they have made in life. It's a mistake for a reason."

"Mary I just hate that I did that to you... I hate that I hurt you, both mentally and physically. That accident tore me apart."

"It's in the past."

"The past is always going to be a part of our lives, Mary."

"Not mine, I don't remember any of it." I shrug.

He shakes his head. "If I would have just paid more attention to the fact that you didn't wanna go to that party in the first place..."

"No, don't start thinking about what you could have done differently. It makes everything worse."

"Your memory isn't coming back." he says sadly and I nod. We both knew it. Neither of us wanted to say it. "There's nothing I can do to make it just... click. Not one simple thing is gonna make you remember anything. I've tried everything."

"It's not your fault." I try to comfort him, but it's hard when I need comforting for myself.

"Where is this going to leave us?" he asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean do you still want anything to do with me?" 

I shrug. I don't know how to admit it, but this boy means a lot to me. For a guy that almost ruined my life for good, he sure does a good job at keeping me sane. I look at him, dodging his question and saying, "Did you really love me?" 

"Mary, I still love you." he smiles at me in a sad way, then glances down at my lips before going back to my hazel eyes with an eyebrow raised. It was like an idea just came to his mind. "God, this better fucking work." he mutters before grabbing my face, practically slamming his lips against mine. 

It takes me a moment to process, and then I realize what he's trying to do. If what we had, or maybe still have, was what they call 'true love', a kiss will work. His lips against mine will be the familiar feeling that causes all the memories to rush back to my head. At least, that's what he's hoping. If it doesn't work, there's no hope left. All we can do is close our eyes and take in the moment with our lips pressed against one another's.

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O N E C H A P T E R L E F T 

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