Molly didn’t know the whole story. Probably wouldn’t change anything if she did, but surviving and being a survivor were two different things. That’s what I’d been doing this whole time. Just surviving, waiting for the day when what Blaine had done to me would not tarnish everything that was good in my life.

I dropped my head into my hands. Tears welled up in my eyes.

Instead, there were things I could’ve done differently. I couldn’t change what had happened to me, but I could’ve changed the way I reacted, especially now when I was so far away from those who had hindered any attempts to overcome it. But to be honest, it was more than that. It had always been more than Blaine. It had been my parents—it had been me.

The only way I could truly move on was to confront what had happened, to do something I had been punished for doing in the first place.

It wasn’t the past that was coming between us.

It was the present.

Cam had been right.

Suddenly, I shot to my feet. I was moving before I knew what I was doing. It was when I stood in front of Cam’s apartment door that my heart leapt in my throat. It was probably too late for us, but if I told him—if I could explain myself—then that was a start. Either way, I owed it to Cam.

I owed it to myself.

I knocked and heard footsteps a few seconds later. The door swung open, revealing Cam. His eyes immediately closed and his mouth opened, and I knew he was going to tell me to leave.

“Can we talk?” I asked, voice cracking halfway through. “Please, Cam. I won’t take up much of your time. I just—”

Cam’s eyes flew open and then narrowed on me. “Are you okay, Avery?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Part of me wanted to turn and go back to my apartment, but I refused to allow myself to run. Not anymore. “I just need to talk to you.”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped aside. “Ollie’s not here.”

Relieved that he hadn’t shut the door in my face, I followed him into the living room. Cam picked up the remote, muting the TV as he sat on the couch. “What’s going on, Avery?” he asked, and his tone suggested that he didn’t expect me to answer truthfully, and that hurt.

It hurt because he had no reason to expect me to be upfront about anything.

I sat on the edge of the recliner, unsure of where to start. “Everything.” And that was all I could say at first. “Everything.”

Cam scooted forward, twisting the cap he wore backward. An adorable habit that said he was paying attention. “Avery, what’s going on?”