As I process everything Cami has told me, my heart breaks for her. From her brother's death to the abuse at the hands of those who were supposed to love her, I feel an overwhelming need to protect her regardless of the consequences. I shouldn’t have left her from the start. I should have been there, then none of this would have happened.

The sun begins to softly trickle through the curtains as I'm watching her sleep. I kiss her cheek and stroke her hair, lightly running my finger down the scar on her face. She shivers and turns over, pulling the blanket up around herself. A faint whisper brings me out of my daze and I realize she's talking in her sleep. “I love you,” she says over and over, and I can only wonder who she's referring to. I hope to hell it’s me.

The alarm clock goes off and she wakes up with a gasp. She looks around, trying to focus, her eyes finding me. She smiles and stretches before saying, “Good morning.” I smile and wrap my arms around her.

“Good morning, sunshine,” I reply.

“Do you work today?” she asks, crawling out of bed.

“Nope,” I reply, wiggling my eyebrows at her. She shakes her head and goes into the bathroom. I slowly get out of bed and head to the kitchen. I fill up the coffee pot and grab two cups from the cabinet when she comes in.

“I thought I smelled coffee brewing,” she says, sitting at the bar. “I was thinking,” she says with hesitation. “I would like for you to go with me to Tommy’s gravesite.”

Without a word, I go up behind her and hug her to me. “Of course I’ll go with you,” I whisper softly into her ear. She smiles and bites her bottom lip.

“Thank you. We will need to stop by a flower shop, so I can get some fresh flowers for him and pick up Ella. I’ve never taken her before.” I nod and kiss her cheek. “Oh, and I need to go look at that apartment, would you be willing to do that with me also?” she asks, her voice laced with a hopeful tone.

I just laugh. “You know I will.” We get ready to leave and I can see her filling with emotions. “So where is the cemetery?” I ask, walking her outside.

“Back in Lutown.”

I sigh. “Hell, I haven’t been back there since I left for Memphis. I had to visit my mother when I got back from the war.”

“The war, gosh, I’m an idiot. Here I am telling you all these horrible things about my life and my brother and I completely forgot that you lost Jackson.”

“He’s buried back home too,” I say with a sigh. Not that I’ve ever been to the gravesite. I couldn’t handle it.

“I want to show you something,” she says. I follow her back inside. Cami goes to the closet and pulls out a tattered old book bag and sits on the bed, patting the mattress beside her. I sit and she pulls out a handful of old pictures. The first one is a little boy with stark blue eyes, who I assume to be Tommy. As she flips through the pictures, she gives me the background for each one. Finally, she nears the bottom of the pile and shows me one I remember. A place and time that seem forgotten.

“It’s us,” I say, unable to put the memory into words.

“And Jackson.” She points to the corner of the image and he’s there, chugging a beer in the back. “Summer party before senior year.”

“The year he died. Wow, I don’t think I have any images of him from that year, he was gone so much, and then…” Forever, I think to myself, but I can’t say it aloud.

Her sweet smile and bright eyes were the same as they are now. I sit there thinking about what she was like at her younger age. Remembering the taste of her lips on my own.

She gets up and moves towards the door. “You ready?”

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. She smiles, and her cheeks darken with the blush. “You're not accustomed to compliments, are you?”

“No,” she says, lowering her head.

I get up and walk over to her. “Don’t do that,” I say, bringing her face up to meet my eyes. “You are beautiful, regardless of some scars or your past. I've never met anyone quite like you and I don’t know what to say or do to help you overcome what you have been through. I can’t put my finger on it exactly, but I hope you’ll hang around so I can find out,” I say, pulling her to me.

Huge tears form in her eyes and she smiles, kissing me. “We better get going.” Taking her hand, I lead her outside, opening the truck door for her. We need to stop and get some flowers before we got to the cemetery, so we pull into the parking lot of a little shop, and she runs in, coming back out with a bouquet of daisies.

“Tommy liked these flowers,” she says as if she read my mind. “Did you ever do the 'she loves me, she loves me not' thing with flower petals?” she asks.

“No, I can’t recall doing that,” I reply.

“Well you pull a petal and say, 'loves me and then loves me not,' alternating with each one. The last petal is the most important.” I nod and she continues. “Tommy and I did 'love you, love you more.' He always seemed to love me more and I knew he was being sneaky, but he was five when we started doing that and I'd always let him win. He liked daisies best because they had smaller petals.”

We stop at her aunt’s house to pick up Ella, and as we strap her into the back seat of my truck, I can’t help but think that this is what Sundays should look like. My family and I spending time together before I go to the clubhouse meeting later. My own kind of church. Ella sleeps in the backseat as we make the trip. I love listening to her cooing in her dreams.

The entrance to the cemetery is on a long and bumpy dirt road. The twisted branches of the trees open up into a small open space with everything overgrown and untouched, except for a small headstone near the back of the cemetery. 'Tommy Michael Garrett' Is written across the front in childlike script with an engraving of a familiar cartoon character covering the middle. There are cars and trucks lining the small filled grave square in front and a plastic butterfly sits atop the small marble structure. Ella goes stiff at the sight and shudders.

Cami sits cross legged in front of the grave, pulls Ella on her lap, and places the daisies in front of her. I feel strange, like I'm invading a private conversation, but she motions me to sit with her. Squeezing in between the two small statues on either side of the plot, I'm so close to her I can hear every breath she takes.

She pulls a letter out of her pocket and begins to read it to Tommy, as her tears begin to smear the ink. When she is finished, she moves aside some of the gravel and folds it back up, placing it in the spot she's made. Covering it up, she looks over at me with her glistening eyes.

“He would have liked you because you have a motorcycle,” she says, smiling through her tears.

As we’re leaving, she looks back and whispers, “I love you, Tommy, and you will always be with me.”

I pull her closer to me and put my arm over her shoulder and ruffle Ella’s hair. “Do you realize how amazing you are?” I ask. She shrugs and climbs in the truck.

“Do you remember where I told you the apartment complex is?”

I nod and buckle my seat belt. I watch her as I pull out, and she sighs deeply. “If all this is weird to you, I don't know what to tell you. This is me coping with life.”

“I don’t find it weird at all, you have some shit to get through, Cami. I’ll get through it with you,” I reply, taking her hand.

The small two bedroom apartment she found is perfect, and its only three miles or so from my house. We pull up, and the manager meets us outside and walks us up to the apartment that would be hers. She falls in love with it and has already started planning the way she wants to decorate it before we even leave. But when the manager starts asking her financial questions, she talks with him. Ella is wandering around the place pretending. It’s sweet.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“I love it here.”

“Ok, so what’s the deal?” If she can’t afford it, I’ll pay. I can.

“I don’t want to live here.”

“What? You just said you love it.” Women are fucking confusing sometimes.

“Yes, I did. But I can’t help but notice the pink paint under your fingernails. You finished Ella’s room at your place, didn’t you?”

“Well yeah, but this is your choice. You do what you want.” I’m not going to push her to be with me, that’s not fair.

“What I want is to be with you,” she says, her eyes shimmering.

“So what you’re saying is…”

“I’m coming back to the house with Ella, and we stay there, with you, if that’s ok.”

“Yeah.” Of course it’s ok, but I’m not going to make a big fucking deal about it. But it’s what I wanted, to be with her, and to have her in my bed again.

When we finish, we drop Ella back off at Suzanne’s for one last night. Suzanne says she’ll pack her up and drop her off in the morning. We have one final night alone. I'm lying there in the darkness and can still smell a faint hint of her perfume. Closing my eyes, I keep thinking about her, the way her hair swings when she walks, and the blushing of her cheeks when she’s embarrassed. My phone whistles, indicating I have a text message, and I almost ignore it. After a few minutes, curiosity gets the best of me, and I open the message.

You awake?

My heart thumps a little faster as I answer it. Yeah. Everything ok?

Yeah, I'm just bored and my bed is cold.

I smile because I’m feeling the same way.

I’m sorry.

I reply, waiting for the invitation.

Want to come watch a movie with me?

Sure.

Good, come on then and you better pick a good movie.

Ok, be there in a few.

I hear her shuffle out to the living room, but I sit there for a good ten minutes before I rush out so that I don't seem expectant or anxious. She’s sitting on the couch in a pink tank top and black running shorts.

“No wonder you're cold,” I say jokingly.

Trying to decipher the expression on her face is impossible. I can never tell what she’s thinking.

“I don’t like a lot of clothes on while I sleep.” And there is it, the feisty girl I remember from high school. I’m not being too forward, that’s for damn sure.

“Why don’t you go put on a movie and pop some popcorn?”

“Yes, ma'am,” I reply with a salute. She laughs, relaxing more on the couch, pulling a blanket over her. Damn, I liked the view.

I put in a movie and sit down with the bowl of popcorn; she scoots next to me, pulling the blanket further over her and laying her head on my shoulder. The feel of her bare skin against mine makes it hard for me to concentrate on the movie. When she puts her legs over mine, I do everything I can to control myself. Damn, she’s beautiful like this, wisps of hair loose around her face, illuminated by only the television.

She looks up at me and smiles. “I get to go back to work the day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some of my own shit to handle.” Playing house with her has been fun, but the club needs me. I promised Wilson.

“I’ve liked it though, being here with you.”

She kisses me and hugs me tightly, each move making it hard to control all the blood rushing south. She pulls away and her leg skims across the fabric of my pants, making me groan.

“Are you ok?” she asks.

“I’m fine,” I quickly reply in a strained whisper. Closing my eyes, I try to think of everything that turns me off.

Thirty minutes into the movie, and she's asleep on my shoulder. Picking her up gently, I take her to my bed and cover her up. Taking my place on the couch, I smile, knowing I'm never letting this one go.