"You say that, but I know better. If you married me, I'd only be a burden to you. And I don't want that." I struggled to get the words out of my mouth, gasping for air. My body shook with every sob and before long, I was gasping for air. "You're the only good thing in my life and I don't ever want to lose that. Ever. And you deserve so much more than I could give you. So, no, I won't marry you. I can't marry you! You say I deserve the world, but damn it, so do you!”

Pain.

There was no better way to describe the heavy, unbearable feeling crushing down upon my chest. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't...function. Every ounce of my being used to endure this nightmare call my life malfunctioned, and every inch of my emotions - the ones I foolishly pretended weren't that bad - hit me with the force of a tsunami.

It hurt like hell.

It goes without saying that this isn't what either of us had in mind when we decided to call it a night. But there we were, in Cam's care, tension thick and heavy in the air. Tears continued to roll down my face, down the curve of my cheeks, warm teardrops falling over the whites of my knuckles. Pain radiated from my chest, making it harder to breathe normally. All because of his sudden proposal. Somewhere among my fractured brain, I knew his intentions were pure. But that didn't stop me from wondering what I did to deserve a life so messed up that my friend, rich heir or not, felt the need to sacrifice his bachelor lifestyle to rescue me from it.

Stupid.

Ugly.

Unworthy.

In that moment, those felt like the perfect words to describe me.

I felt Cam's eyes watching me intently, but I couldn't look at him. It was already bad enough that a day that started off with such promise ended up like this. I wondered what he thought of me, sitting there ugly-crying and inconsolable. My shame knew no limits. 

"I admit, I saw this going differently in my head. I'm not sure if I thought you'd be happy, but I didn't think..." That's the problem, Cam. Sometimes, you don't think. Like, at all. I kept the words in my mouth. Instead, I hugged myself tight and shut my eyes even tighter. "The last thing I wanted was..."

"I know you didn't, Cam," I piped in, wiping my tears away. The last thing I wanted was to hurt you. He didn't need to say it. "I know you mean well, too."

"Then you also know that being by your side and making sure you're safe means the world to me." I inhaled deep as he reached over and, with a gentle hand, cupped my cheek. "I get it. You don't want me to take a mistake. You don't want to ruin my life just like I don't want to ruin yours."

"I remembered to exhale. "Cam..."

"Let me finish." All my counter arguments dissipated with a quiet breath. "You say I deserve the world. But I already have, just because I have someone like you in my life. For years, I've told myself that if I happened to get married, if I just happened to consider it, I'd want my future wife to be someone life you. Someone who is kind and considerate, who has a good heart despite everything she's been through. But why take the leap with someone like you when it could be you. Highs, lows, and all. You've always looked out for me, Nicola. No matter what, you've had my back. Now please, let me be a good man and make it all up to you for the rest of my life."  

My eyes welled with tears once more. I wanted nothing more than to melt into his arms and believe in his words. But in my head, the same phrase played over and over in my head. This is insane. You can't do this. You'll ruin everything if you do. On one hand, it felt wonderful to be validated, for someone to believe in my experience and vow to do something that would dramatically change my life. On the other, I would never forgive myself if accepting his proposal led to something terrible happening to him one day. It would eat me alive.

I couldn’t agree with it. I couldn't Words whirled and formed into apologetic sentence, linking up make to a up a rejection in the nicest way possible. But just as the speech came together, a small force pushed it all apart. The voices were small but assertive, offering a different approach. 

Are you sure you can’t do it?

Would it be so bad to be married to your best friend? 

Cam would do everything in his power to keep you safe – isn’t that a good thing? 

He would keep you safe. He would cherish you. Even as friends, the two of you would be very happy...maybe even for the rest of your lives.

This is everything you could have wanted and nothing that you'd regret. It won't be easy...but it'll be worth it, don't you think?

So..what’s stopping you? 

What’s stopping you? 

What was stopping me? The reasons were so easy to point out moments before. But the more I ruminated on it, the harder it became to resist. Cam couldn’t give me romantic love, but was that the only kind of love that mattered in this crazy world. The love between friends was a beautiful thing and the two of us shared it in spades. He could keep me safe. He would lift me up, never tear me down. With him, I could finally breathe and sweep away all those damn eggshells. With him, I would be free. 

Freedom. 

I needed that. I craved it. And Cam was the one person who could for sure give it to me.

Could really refuse Cam’s proposal? The thought of going home filled me with so much dread and terror. I could just imagine my mother sitting in her bedroom, spinning a brutal punishment for me in between calls to the family. I never knew peace, but I would never feel a shred of it ever again once I stepped through that door. The cycle would renew, only worse. She’d beat me, with words and with hands, into submission, and I would flounder, sustaining sickness after sickness, wishing it would all end but never seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. 

No. 

No more. 

If the choice was between my mother and me, for once in my pitiful life, I chose me. 

“I don’t want to go home, Cam.” The last time I heard my voice that quiet and fragil, I was a frightened child, shivering at the sight of a mother towering over me. I think I was playing with some friends in our apartment complex, and I lost track of time. By the time I realized my error it was too late. I stood in the doorway, trembling, as my mother stood in the door frame, eyes hot like coals, her hand raised above her head, threatening to swoop down at any moment. “I don't want to live like that anymore.” 

“Then don't.” He smiled, his voice was as quiet as mine. "Come back with me and you'll never have to deal with that crazy woman ever again.” 

I squirmed. “Cam…”

“I have a bedroom you can move into. You’ll have your own bathroom and lots of closet space. We can go out tomorrow and get you everything you need. Including more close to fill up that closet because I know you don't have a lot of them." I scoffed. Nice to know that Cam still had jokes. "I promise you, I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable or put you in any weird situations. We can figure this all out together.” 

“But what if it doesn’t work out. I really can’t lose you as a friend…” 

“You won’t because it’s going to work out.” Before I could protest again, he held up a finger, silencing me. “No. No more ‘buts’. It’s going to work out. We’re going to work out because we’re friends above anything else. As long as we remember that, then everything else will fall into place.”

Deep inhale. Deeper exhale. He’s the one with the crazy ideas yet he’s also the one making sense. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this. Getting proposed to by my best friend was not on my Saturday afternoon bingo card, but here we are.” 

Cam smirked. “That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me. Is that a ‘yes’?” 

“There’s a lot we need to hash out. Ground rules, framework, I don’t know, just something. I don’t want us to do this and end up hating each other for stupid, random reasons. So, if we’re really doing this, I want to set it up for success. Forever is a long time. And I don’t want some flashy diamond ring, either. I’ve never liked those things. A simple wedding band will do. It can have some diamonds on it, but not too many. It’s the meaning behind the ring that’s more important, not the ring itself.”

"A simple wedding band, huh?" His smirk arched into a smile. The biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him. “That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me.” 

“Stop being smug or else I’ll change my mind.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” His eyes soften as he squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll do it? You’ll marry me and let me take care of you? Give you a good life?” 

At the end of the night, he was still insane for suggesting this and I was just as insane for considering it. But at the very least we could be crazy together. “Yes, I’ll do it. I’ll marry you, Cam.”

I’d never see him happier in the time we’ve known each other. And now, I’d have the rest of my life to see if it could be topped. “Thank you, Nicola. I promise, you can count on me.” 

I knew I could.

After all, that’s why I said “yes”.

I lied in bed later that night, rewinding the day’s events over and over in my head. My brain was covered in a thick, penetrating fog of confusion. Tried as I might, couldn’t wrap my head around everything that happened. It's one thing to assume the day will go in a different direction and it's a whole 'nother cosmic calamity when fate/destiny/kismet just takes the wheel and swerves the car into oncoming traffic, causing chaos and destruction as she throws her head back and laughs the kind of laugh that would make a megalomaniac nervous.  

I didn’t get it. Were there dark clouds over me when I was born? Did a trickster god point at me when I was still in the room and go “oh hey, I haven't messed with her enough. I should do something about that!” I wished that I had a time machine to travel back to all my past lives to see what the hell I did to deserve this insanity.

I should have been on my motel room bed, ruminating over these questions while some cheesy late-night movie droned on in the background. But in a stunning twist related to today's crap show, I’m lying down on the plush, queen-sized bed the second bedroom of Cam’s townhouse, dressed in a pair of comfy white pajamas with colorful hearts. He bought them for me at Russell’s since it’s open twenty-four hours and it's on the way to this house. My luggage is by the bedroom door, the few clothes I bought me still packed inside. The outfit I wore sat in a nearby laundry basket, ready to me washed whenever.

In the silence of this bedroom, I was paralyzed with mixed emotions – fear, uncertainty, shock, and more fear. 

What was I doing here?

No...the better question was how did I get here? 

And why does the second bedroom have its own bathroom? 

I turned onto my side, replaying the moment of truth. 

It’d been hours since I checked out of the motel early and after a quick trip to Russell’s before driving back to Cam’s house for the night. I was too exhausted from the day’s events to contemplate the change of scenery. All I knew is that expectations of Cam’s residence and the actual reality were two vastly different things. And by that, I mean I was expecting to come home to a nice apartment, not a whole luxury townhouse. The sudden change of my lot in life in life would take time to sink in. But as the warmth of the blankets and the darkness of the room lulled me into the best sleep I would have in ages, there was something more important I understood, lying in the comfort of my new queen-sized bed.

It was messy and unexpected, but I had escaped from my mother’s clutches. 

I would never have to go back to that house ever again. 

Finally, I was free.