Marry Me Stranger | ✓

Chapter 28.

Cameron's POV.

I toss and turn as I try to sleep. Throwing the blanket off the bed, I get up and walk into the kitchen of May's home. It's smaller than mine but it's so cosy. I walk over to the cabinet next to the oven and take a glass out. Walking over to the sink, I fill the glass with water chunking it down my throat. I refill it, this time taking a few sips at a time.

I've been getting calls and texts for almost 8 hours now and I don't know from whom and I have no idea who would want to talk to an asshole right now. How have I never seen this coming?

I'm an asshole, I'm aware of that. A lot has changed since I met her. I don't know what's going on. I feel numb right now as I stand here, completely uninformed that I'm shirtless in another person's home. Yes, this might be May's home but her grandma lives here as well as her niece.

I make a move to go back to the spare room but I'm greeted by a sleepy Cassandra. She's rubbing her eyes and she yawns as she walks into the kitchen. I go unnoticed and by the time she's drinking milk from the bottle, she notices me. She smiles a sleepy smile. It's minor that it doesn't look like she's smiling at all.

"Hey, uncle Cammy." She mumbles in that sleepy voice of hers when she wakes up. It sounds a little slurred but I can make out what she's meaning. Her hair is wrapped in a sock? Beanie? I have no idea what that is that girls wear on their heads when they go to sleep. And I don't intend on finding out. She's dressed in a spider-man pyjama top and a plain grey shorts. She's a girl, but she doesn't like Sofia, she says that Sofia is too irritating, for some reason. She doesn't like Dora because she doesn't know what to say when Dora asks a question and she just stares because she has no idea if she should reply to the damned TV. She's been my best friend since she was born. This little girl is fascinating and pretty outstanding for her generation.

"Hey, Cassy. Did I wake you up?" I ask her as she brings the bottle top to her mouth, taking a sip. She looks so tiny compared to her age.

"Nope, you did not. I just woke up because I had to pee so I came here to get a drink. I was thirsty." She says, popping her bottom lip out as she pouts. Her bottom lip starts to tremble and I instantly put the glass down and walking over to her. I wrap my arms around her small figure and bring her into a massive bear hug. "I-I miss daddy..." She sobs into my chest as her shoulders start shaking.

"I know sweetheart, I know," I say, placing a kiss on her head. My tense shoulders have loosened up from my shit thinking of what happens next in my life when there is a girl who lost her father, a year ago. That girl happens to be Cassandra. This beautiful broken girl has no father figure and I'm so fucking pissed about that. Why did the universe have to take him away? For god's sake, she already doesn't have a mother, why take the father away?

Her father died last year, on New Year's Day. He died to a heart disease called Atherosclerosis. Atherosclerosis is a hardening of the arteries. He died right in front of her, in the hospital bed. I didn't want to pity her, she doesn't like that, but I was there when she needed me to be. She spoke to me about a lot of things she should've spoken to her father about. Everything we do in the backyard -- when we run around, playing tag, or teaching her about puberty -- should've been done with her father, spoken about; with her father. Instead, he is gone. Away from this little girl. From my point of view, I think it's fucked up. For her. For any child whoever lost their father at a young age. It's a heartbreaking sight to have a child cry over missing her dad. And to make matters worse, she doesn't have a mother to tell her it will be okay. She doesn't have a mother to cry under. She doesn't have a mother to hold her close to her and whisper soothing words, to ease the sad tension that has built.

Her mother never died. Nope. She ran away. She ran away from her daughter. From her husband. A few days after Cassandra was born, Mary, the mother, ran away. Gave the child to Herald, the father and he had to look after her, even though he was in such pain of his disease. Her father died and May took her in. The mother was May's sister. May's older sister. Last year, wasn't a good year for either of them. Especially the father and the child. Still, no one knows what happened to Mary, if she's still alive if she's living a wonderful lifestyle. It's a heartbreaking sight, trust me.

She drapes her arms around my shoulder and I lift her, holding her securely in my arms. I walk out of the kitchen and she drops the milk bottle. She gasps while tears are falling.

"I'll clean that up," I tell her and lay her down on her bed. I lay down next to her and bring the blanket over her body. She stops after a few moments of sobbing and trying to breathe properly. When I look down at her tear-stained face, puffy and swollen cheeks, she's sleeping. I feel so sorry for this little insecure girl, even though she doesn't want me to. With one last look, I kiss her cheek and leave her room to clean up the milk.

Cleo's POV.

"You're so sexy Cleo," Kevin kisses my shoulders and I moan, biting down on my lip. His lips trail down to my breasts and he sucks on my nipples, taking the sensitive part into his mouth. Another moan leaves my lips as I close my eyes. His breathing is heavy as he kisses my lips. Our tongues dancing to the music playing in the background of this person's house. I have no idea who's house this is, I came with Kevin.

"Kevin.." I moan his name out and my hands find it's way to his hair. I pull on it. Pulling so hard that he groans my name out. He bites my bottom lip, his hand resting on my hip. He squeezes my hip and his hand moves up to cup my breasts. His other hand supporting his weight on top of me.

He pulls his pants down, as well as his boxers. I flip him over so that I'm sitting on top of him. He lifts himself as his mouth collides with mine. I've never tasted anyone like this before. Never. All my past boyfriend's, we've been casual. Just holding hands, kissing in the bathroom. But we've never gotten intimate. At least not as intimate as far as with Kevin. Kevin is different. I can feel it.

Without warning, I'm flipping back onto the bed, to our original position. Kevin likes it this way. He says he gets so much view when he is on top of me. "Fuck. I'm going to fuck you like a dog fucking another." His desperate voice fills my ear. I try not to laugh as his use of words. He thrusts inside of me and I scream. Like actually scream, but with pleasure. "After this, we're done," Kevin says, beads of sweat running down his forehead. I try to register his words, but I can't when he is thrusting inside of me. So hard. "I lo..."

I wake as if it's an emergency as if sleeping had become a dangerous thing. My heart beats fast and there is a buzzing in my brain and together they are as panic with jump-leads. Only now my brain is as a flat battery, the exertions of the night being a marathon of erratic problem-solving. And so this day will pass as if I am hungover, not from drink, but those horrible dreams.

Since your love turned to poison, my mind cycles through emotions faster than a kid flipping radio channels. I've gone from level to rocky - fighting a mixture of competing emotions, each of them vying for dominance. After the reboot of sleep, I am calm, the day stretching ahead with possibilities - time to get jobs done, connect with friends, enjoy nature. Yet this coping is a thin veil over trauma and even the smallest of setbacks change my emotional landscape. By evening the sadness wells up, uncertainty rushing to the fore, and I know it is time to sleep. How the crazy dreams stitch my head back together I haven't a clue, it's a new miracle every night.

I'm hurt. I feel shattered. I miss Cameron. I loathe Kevin. But I miss him. I like Cameron, like, like him. I don't know what to feel, accept shattered and hurt. I need to put myself together. It's Mason's day tomorrow, and I never got an opportunity to invite Cameron. I groan as I lay back down on my bed. Sleep comes to me easily. What a coincidence.

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