"What do you know?" "The way you're looking at me right now... I'm not your enemy, Cameron." What did she mean? How was I looking at her? "I know that," I said. "Do you?" I was breathing hard. Her eyes. Her eyes felt like a punishment and a gift all at the same time. If she stopped looking at me the same way, stopped wanting me, it would be my downfall. "Is your dad okay? Why is he at the hospital, Cam?" When I didn't answer, she rose from the bed, stood in front of me. "Why wouldn't you tell me? Don't you trust me?" "It's not about—" "Don't you dare tell me it's not about trust because it is! I am trying my fucking best. Always, with you. I'm giving you everything of me, but I'm only asking for a small part of you. And you wouldn't give it. You wouldn't even try." "It doesn't work like that, Kara." "Then tell me how it works!" I had no idea. No fucking idea. All I knew was I wanted to hold onto her, but she was slipping away. I could feel it. I was pushing her away and I didn't want to. I didn't want her to leave me too. Not her. Goddamnit, not her. "Say something." But I had nothing. At that, she grabbed the lamp from her bedside table, threw it against the wall. Darkness enveloped us. I could hear her breathing hard and fast, feel her anger and hurt like it was a living thing between us. I followed her when she marched out of the bedroom. "I'm not going to be another notch in your bedpost, you asshole," she said quietly, but every word was stamped with anger. "You told me you weren't like everybody else. You want to walk away? Is that what you're really going to do?" Then she sobbed, tears running down her face and everything inside me felt like it was getting ripped apart. "If you walk away, that means we're nothing. I will be just like all the other women you slept with. You wanna fuck me then leave me, right?" "Kara, goddamnit, don't cry. Don't cry. You're nothing like them. Never like them. I... It's not like that." "What the fuck is it like? Why don't you fucking spill it?" The more I couldn't answer her, the more she got angrier, the more the pain in her eyes gutted me. "I wanted to be more patient, Cameron. I really did, but there's a point when it's too much. I'm not going to give up myself to make you comfortable in your silence, in your need to keep everything inside and suffer on your own. It's too much. It hurts too much." I knew what she was going to say next. I could see it in her eyes. "Don't." "I'll give you what you want. Get out. Get the fuck out." I looked at her, my heart slamming against my chest. If she looked at me, she'd see how much I needed her. How desperate I was to keep her. But she wouldn't. And I couldn't blame her. Not at all. I had hurt her. I was hurting her. But still, I wanted. I needed. I yearned for her. Always for her. What the fuck was wrong with me? She opened the front door, standing there with tears running down her cheeks. She wiped them angrily. I lifted my hand, wanting to stroke her face. But she stepped away. "Just go," she said quietly. I looked at her, waiting for her to give me back her gaze. She didn't. She was done. "Go!" She pushed me outside, closed the door to my face. I leaned my forehead against it. And felt ripped apart when I heard her crying. "Kara, open the door," I pleaded. "Please." I waited. Waited. And then her porch light turned off. And finally, it was quiet on the other side of the door. She had walked away. I didn't know how long I stood there, wishing for her to come back. Forgive me. Take me back. Knees weak, I lowered myself on the porch steps. The sun was coming up slowly, but it felt dark everywhere. It was easier to huddle into it, take comfort in it. "Cameron." I looked up. It was Mike. Shame enveloped me at the sight of him. He was holding a bag of groceries in his hand and he walked up the stairs, placed them beside Kara's front door. "Are you all right, son?" He sat beside me on the steps. "Rough night?" I lowered my head. This man was one of the very few I admired and respected. What could I say to him? I had nothing. I was nothing. "I'm sorry." When my voice hitched, I scrubbed my face with my hand. Tried to get my shit together. "For not showing up last night." He nodded. "I figured you had a good reason." We sat there for a few minutes, both of us silent. "Sun's coming up," he said. Then he let out a slow breath. "If suddenly electricity was no more, there'd be no way to charge cellphones. I wonder how humans would see each other? How would they video call? Or was it Skype? See, I know my internets." He laughed a little. Then suddenly I felt the air around us changed. He turned to me and I knew he was studying me. "There are things in your life that you don't want others to see," he said quietly. "It's scary to let someone in, isn't it?" He took off his hat, shook it out, then put it back on. "I still remember the night Kara was born. All the nurses loved her. She was a star in that delivery room, damn near destroyed our eardrums with her loud screaming." He let out another small laugh, his voice turning soft at the memory. "At the very first glance I had of my daughter's face, I knew right away that for the rest of my life I was going to have somebody there that would help me live it. Give me reason to live it. And I think you know that too." He put his hand on my shoulder, squeezed it firmly. "It's okay to be scared. I was. I still am. But for her," he said softly. "For her, I won't be." He rose, walked down the remaining steps. "Son, look at me." He waited, a patient man. I had no idea what he saw as he looked at me, but there was deep concern in his eyes. "Your life is in your hands. Nobody else's. Never forget that, Cameron." Then he angled his head, gestured. "Need a ride home?"