The meeting started to sound like background noise to my racing thoughts. I couldn't concentrate. Not with Rhys here. I knew he had suffered the loss of his dad and his brother. He had very valid reasons to be here in Grief Share. But every time he moved a muscle, I noticed. Every time I noticed, I started to overthink. I couldn't help it. I started to wonder about how his dad died, how he was able to process the grief of losing a little brother when he lived a continent away, how long he was planning to live States side? I knew I should be focusing on myself, on my own grief. I was easier though to think about someone else's.

Ronnie had warned me about that on countless occasions. There was a fine line between helping other's process their own grief and avoiding your own. I hadn't been able to process mine at first. I had spent several months going through the motions after Dad had died. I found myself taking the Cam way out of things, drinking at the bar. I would go there after work and usually find Cam already there. We had been friends before this. Casual friends.

I had met Cam the first week I had come to town to visit my Dad after he had moved here. The bar had been packed for a Craw Fish Broil event they were hosting. I had just gotten done moving my dad into his house and was heading back to Commerce for school. I hadn't meant to even stop in for more than a few minutes. I had just wanted one beer.

Cam had been sitting at the bar talking to some of his buddies. His curly brown hair stuck out of his ball cap. He was wearing a T-shirt from the local high school. There had been nothing remarkable about him in that moment.

The only reason I had even noticed him was because of how loud he'd said, "Boy Howdy, it's fuckin' packed in here!"

His country twang made me think he was a redneck idiot. Then again, I had thought anyone in twenty square miles of here was a redneck idiot. I had no clue what had caused Dad to want to retire out this far East. I had rolled my eyes and sat down so that there was a stool in between us. 

I noticed him noticing me. I was sure it was just because I wasn't a local. He had waited for me to order my drink before trying to start a conversation. 

"What brings you out to these parts?"

I knew it would be rude not to answer but I hadn't been sure if I had wanted to be polite.

"Helping my dad move in."

"Did he buy the ol' McKee place?"

"White house off of 2224?"

"Yep, that's the one. I grew up helping Ol' Man Mckee mow his yard."

I nodded, "It's a big yard." I didn't know what else to say.

"My name is Cameron, buddies call me Cam." He'd said while reaching out his hand for a handshake. 

I smiled shyly, "Lennon." I shook his hand tentatively. 

"You headed back to the city Lennon?"

I shook my head no, "I'm from Dallas but I go to school out in Commerce. I'll be back next weekend though."

I wasn't sure why I had divulged that tidbit. It wasn't really his business. I looked up and saw flecks of green in Cameron's blue eyes. The light caught them and highlighted the green. They were the one feature that stood out to me. My own blue eyes were true blue so to speak. There weren't any hints of green or hazel. Cameron's eyes were much more interesting. 

"What are you studying?"

"English and Business. Double major."

Cameron let out a slow whistle. "Those are pretty opposite options."

I shrugged, "I want to go into publishing one day. Figured both of those options could open some doors down the line."

"Makes sense."

"What about you? Do you go to school?"

Cameron let out a laugh, "Darlin' do you think I would be out here in the middle of Bum Fuck Nowhere if I had me a fancy degree?"

Darlin'? I felt myself blush at the name. It felt so personal. I was sure he called all the girls that, for him to use it so casually.

"So what do you do?"

"Mechanic. I did a two year course at the local community college and got certified to work on Chevy's."

"My grandpa had a sticker on his truck that said, 'I'd rather push a Ford, than drive a Chevrolet." 

Cameron laughed, "Then your grandpa didn't know trucks."

I let out a laugh. No, pop had been a farmer, not a mechanic. He and Gran had owned a farm out here. I knew that was what had drawn dad in. We had family out here. Distant cousins and such. I still wasn't sure though how he was going to make it out here alone. He wasn't a farmer or a rancher. He didn't know any trades. He was retired and I wondered what hobby he was going to pick up to fill his days out here?

I turned my attention back to Cameron, "So what is there to do for fun out here anyways?"

That stupidly innocent question had been the start of it all. I had been twenty-one at the time. For the next four years my world revolved around Cameron. I had moved out here after school to be near him. Not that I had let him know that. I had used my dad as an excuse. I had found a job in Tyler working for Gwen as her assistant and I was good at it. I could work for her until five and then I was at the bar by seven. Cameron was usually there by the time I arrived. I would stay long enough to see whether or not he was taking me home that night. 

The first two years had been a game of cat and mouse between the two of us. I wasn't always sure though who was the cat. Some nights Cam was by my side and spinning me around the dance floor until nine or ten and then we called it an early night. Other nights I was relegated to basically the wing woman. If some pretty thing walked in I knew I had struck out for the night. I would make some stupid excuse and leave. Then there were the nights where we closed the bar down together. I loved those nights. It was always a Friday or a Saturday when I didn't have work the next morning. We stayed up talking about life and random subjects while the bartender kept the liquor flowing. 

I had told myself that I wasn't looking for anything too serious. I knew Cam for sure wasn't. He hated the idea of being tied down. He loved to watch World War 2 documentaries at three in the morning or curl up with a beer and an episode of Dr. Who after we came in from the bar. He wasn't interested in dates at fancy restaurants. At least not with me.

I finally got the nerve to walk away from the situation. I had hated it. By then I knew everything about Cameron. I knew the stupid jokes he liked to tell over and over again to anyone who would listen. I knew what bands he liked and that he secretly liked jazz. We had danced to it on the patio of the home he rented as rain started to fall. I knew he secretly loved science and wished he could get away from small town life. He wanted to go even further away from the city. It was his dream to own his own land and live off of it in a tiny house. I imagined myself doing that. At first it was not my idea of a good time. Then, slowly, I saw myself living that dream with him. The only problem was, he didn't see me there. Not the way I saw him in my dreams. It had become this point of contention for us. He never wanted to discuss the possibility of a relationship and yet when I walked away... he had reeled me back in.

The next two year had been a pattern of me walking and him reeling. I had met Kaitlyn by then. She had watched how utterly miserable the cycle made me. She had given me friendly advice to watch out for my heart in all of it. I hadn't wanted to listen. No one could tell me that he and I weren't end game. 

About six months before Dad had died I finally went cold turkey. I stopped going to the bar. I stopped answering two am texts. I started looking on dating apps and talking to guys out in Tyler. None of them really caught my eye but at least I was trying. I was trying to overcome the addiction that was Cameron. He was addicted to the high I gave him. I boosted his ego. I kept him from being lonely. I gave him all the benefits of a girlfriend without actually having to have the commitment. He had been persistent. Cam had tried to use the fact we were friends not just fuck buddies. He tried to reel me in again with the guise of friendship. He claimed to just miss my company. He wanted to be friends even if there wasn't sex involved. What he didn't understand though was it was never the sex for me. I hadn't fallen for his magical cock. I had fallen for this perfectly imperfect man who couldn't give me what I needed. 

And then Dad died. 

I stopped in at the bar the night of the funeral. Cameron had sent flowers. He had texted that he didn't come because he wasn't sure if I would want him there. I wasn't sure what the answer to that had been either. I had beat him to the bar that night. When he walked in and saw me he bee lined it for my direction. In front of the whole bar he had kissed me. He had kissed me like I was his and he didn't care who knew. 

We made love for the first time that night. 

We had fucked more times than I could count. That night had been different. For the next couple of months things were different. We hadn't labeled it but I stopped wondering if he was taking anyone else home. He started asking to come home to my place instead of his. I had noticed that he kept a duffle bag of clothes in his truck. I started to notice things changing again about eight weeks after Dad had died. Cam wasn't drinking unless someone was buying. He was shaking a lot. He was losing a lot of weight. When I tried to confront him about it he said he was just stressed. I finally started asking questions around the bar. One of our mutual friends told me Cam had been fired from his job for drinking while on the clock. His landlord had kicked him out when he couldn't pay rent. I realized then that I was how he was showering and having a place to sleep that wasn't his truck. If he hadn't owned that outright I had had a feeling he would have lost his truck too. 

I didn't even feel used. I should have but I knew Cam was keeping me from feeling lonely as much as I was him. I wanted to take care of him. I hadn't realized though what that was going to cost me in the long run. I hadn't realized how many lies Cameron was telling me to make sure he had that bed to rely on. None of that came out until after I got the call that he was dead. I had been listed as an emergency contact in his phone. The police had wanted me to come down to the station to confirm his identity. 

I had lost my own identity in Cameron.