I didn’t know what to say, but my heart was racing as he slid his hands down to mine. He placed them on his chest, right above his heart. “I have hope,” he said, his gaze never leaving mine. “I have hope because I love you—I’ve been in love with you, Avery. Probably before I even realized that I was.”

“You loved me?”

Cam dropped his forehead to mine and his chest rose sharply under my hands. “I love you.”

My heart stuttered. “You love me?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

There was a strength in those words, but there was a power in the truth. Something broke wide open inside me, like a foundation on a great, thick wall finally giving under the weight. A hailstorm of emotion whirled inside me, seeking a way out. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t even try. Tears streamed down my face, so fast that I couldn’t see Cam’s face through them.

A sound from the back of his throat came and he pulled me to his chest, circling his arms around me tightly. He held me, whispering soothing, nonsensical words. At some point, he lifted me into his arms and carried me back to his bedroom. He laid me down on his bed and climbed in beside me, cradling me to his chest. Once the tears came, they didn’t stop.  They were the big, ugly kind of sobs you couldn’t speak or breathe around. There was also something renewing in those tears, as if each tear that fell somehow symbolized that I was finally letting go.

I cried for Molly and all that she had to go through. I cried for Cam and everything I had put him through. I cried, because in the end, he still loved me. Most of all, I cried for everything that I had lost and for everything I knew I could now gain.

Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Lying beside me on my bed, Cam reached over and picked up a strand of my hair. He twirled the reddish brown lock around his fingers and then smacked it across my nose. “So what does it feel like to finally be a sophomore in college?”

I caught his hand and untangled by hair, grinning. “I’m not officially a sophomore. Not until school starts again in the fall.”

“I deem you a sophomore now.” He plucked up my hair again, this time trailing it across my cheek. “What I say goes.”

“Then how does it feel finally being a senior. Next year is your last.”

“Amazing,” he replied, tracing my lower lip with the ends of my hair. “It feels amazing.”

Wiggling closer to him, I wrapped my fingers in the collar of his shirt. “It feels pretty damn good to be a sophomore.”

“Would be better if you didn’t sign up for summer classes.”