As you can see, at Camp Rylan, we offer the complete summer camp experience year round, from horseback riding and dance classes, to nature hikes and swimming, even during the nonsummer months when we’re only open on weekends. But we keep in mind that this camp is for children who have family members either currently deployed, home and trying to adjust to civilian life, or who have passed away, and we also provide individual and group counseling for anyone who needs it. After dinner we can…”

My eyes almost roll into the back of my head and I have to struggle to pay attention to what Everett is saying when he moves to stand behind me, rests his hands on my shoulders, and starts gently massaging my neck with his thumbs.

I let him take the lead on the tour of the plantation for Mr. Stratford, mostly because he knows this camp as well as I do after growing up and working here when he was a teenager. And also because I was so pissed at him that I was afraid if I started talking, all that would come out would be curse words.

I’m angry he didn’t leave when I told him to. I’m angry he thought I needed his help. I’m angry he decided he could just waltz back in here and fix everything. And I’m angry he so easily went along with Amelia’s lie, telling Mr. Stratford we’re married. I was still too frazzled at seeing him again, and too shocked when he wrapped his arm around me and tugged me against him to say anything at the time, and now I have to go along with his stupid idea if I want any chance of saving this camp and not looking like a fool in front of Mr. Stratford.

He knew I wouldn’t fight him on this. He knew I wouldn’t make a scene in front of a man who held the future of Camp Rylan in his hands, no matter how much I want to move away from him so I can remember how to breathe again. What he doesn’t know is that his stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision just brought on a whole new set of problems. If Mr. Stratford does decide to give us the money before he leaves, what’s going to happen next year? Or the year after that? It’s not like Everett and I can just pretend to be married for the rest of our lives, every time Mr. Stratford decides to come for a visit. I also don’t expect my parents to agree to this ruse once they get home and find out what happened. Before Amelia and Everett opened their big mouths, I was just getting ready to tell Mr. Stratford where my parents were, swallow my pride, and call them to tell them to get home as fast as possible, hoping Stratford would wait around long enough to meet them.

“How many campers do you usually get during the summer months?” Mr. Stratford asks.

I open my mouth to answer, figuring I should probably start talking at some point since this is my camp, even though Everett is putting on a good show, but the words get stuck in my throat.

Everett’s hands slide off my shoulders, down my back, and circle around my waist, pulling me back against him as he locks his hands together over my stomach. He rests his chin on top of my head like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he touches me this way and holds me this close all the time. I can feel the beat of his heart through his chest as it presses up against my back and it makes me want to turn around in his arms, press my face to his chest, and feel the strength of it against my cheek. I can’t stop fighting this internal battle of wanting to throttle him for showing up out of the blue after almost five years, or holding on to him and never letting him go. I want to scream at him for inserting himself back into my life, but at the same time, I just want to stay here in his arms, reassuring myself that he’s really here and safe and alive.

“We’re always at full capacity during the summer, and we actually have a waiting list,” Everett explains, telling Mr. Stratford our process for picking who gets to attend Camp Rylan while I stand here like a mute, growing angrier by the second as his voice vibrates through my body since he’s holding me so tightly against him.

I hold on to my anger and let it flourish. Being pissed off is much better than the alternative. What I really want to do is run across the camp to the guest house, where I live, lock myself in my bedroom, curl up on my bed and cry. I want to let it all out, all of the anger and fear and confusion. I just want to be left alone so I can get my head back on straight, and I can’t do that when Everett is here, standing so close to me that I can’t think. I can’t concentrate on anything but how good it feels to be this close to him, how right it feels to pretend like we’re something more than we are. Jesus, we’re not even really friends at this point, and now we’re pretending to be husband and wife.

I just wanted him to leave and give me time to get my emotions under control. Time to be sad and hurt and cry and scream and let it out all out. I can’t handle standing here in his arms pretending. It hurts too much that I’m being forced to fake something I wished for and dreamed about for most of my life. It makes me angry that it hurts so much and all I can think about is how much time we lost that we’ll never get back, and how he can so easily walk back into my life and put on this act.

“Thank you for taking the time to show me around,” Mr. Stratford says, his voice pulling me out of my thoughts. “I know you weren’t expecting me for another month, but a few things changed in my schedule involving other charities I’m looking to possibly invest in, and I needed to push this meeting up a little sooner. My accountant needs a decision sooner than I expected, so I don’t have a lot of time to waste. I appreciate your cooperation. I don’t usually say anything until after a decision has been made, but Camp Rylan is at the very top of my list, as long as all of my requirements are met. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll walk back to the main house, talk to a few of the staff, and do some sightseeing alone.”

I give him a smile I don’t feel and Everett lets him know to have the staff radio me if he needs anything, telling him we’ll see him at dinner.

We both watch Mr. Stratford turn and walk away, neither one of us moving or saying a word as he makes his way around the pond, an acre away from the main house, that the campers use for fishing and canoeing. I wait until Mr. Stratford is far enough away, and see him meet up with Seth and Amelia, who just walked out of the stables, before I move.

Jerking out of his arms, I whirl around to face Everett, shoving all of my sadness as far down as it will go and pulling up my anger to give me strength.

“You’re not staying for dinner.”

Everett sighs, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Cam, he thinks we’re married. Don’t you think it would be a little weird if I didn’t show up for dinner? You have, what? A month, maybe two tops, before this place shuts down completely? And you heard him just now. Camp Rylan is at the top of his list, as long as we meet all of his requirements, the most important one being that this charity is run by a happily married couple. You need me right now. It’s not that big of a deal,” he tells me softly.

My mouth drops open and I have to resist the urge to smack my hands against his chest and shove him. I don’t want to touch any part of him. Having his hands on me was bad enough. If I put my hands on his chest and feel the muscles beneath his cotton shirt, my brain will turn to mush.

“Not that big of a deal? Are you fucking kidding me right now?!” I shout. “I haven’t seen you in years! You don’t know one damn thing about me, and the only reason I need you right now is because you didn’t give me any other choice! I could have easily called my parents and explained things to Mr. Stratford, but no. You made a decision for me and now I’m stuck with it, or I’ll risk looking like an idiot who lies and doesn’t know how to run things around here!”

He steps toward me, and I immediately take a step back. It’s one thing for him to be all touchy-feely in front of Mr. Stratford, but he’s not coming anywhere near me when we’re alone.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I made a hasty decision, but I don’t regret it. Stratford doesn’t seem like a man who would have waited around for your parents to get here if we’d told him the truth right from the start. He would have gotten back in his limo and moved on to the next place on his list. We can worry about my stupid decision down the road, after Stratford gives you his money. I know you need to save this camp. It’s your parent’s dream and your legacy. Stop being so fucking stubborn, Cam. Let me help you,” he pleads.

Of course he knows exactly the right words to say to make me come off as an ungrateful bitch for being so angry about a situation that he’s probably right about. I should thank him like a normal person, even though pretending to be married to someone is nowhere near normal. But I’ve never been a normal person when it comes to Everett. I’ve been a lovesick fool who put her trust in the wrong man and it came back to bite me, leaving me lost and alone and confused for too many years.

I knew from a young age that I wanted nothing more out of life than living on this plantation and working at the camp my parents sacrificed everything for. I spent every free minute I had here, following my parents around and learning everything I could about what goes into running a place like this. I moved out of the home I shared with my parents when I graduated high school and into the plantation’s old guest house, close to the main house. I never went away to college like all of my friends from school did because I couldn’t imagine spending one day, let alone four years away, from Camp Rylan and the kids I’d come to know and love and looked forward to seeing every time they set foot on this forty acres of land, in search of understanding and something to take their mind off of things.

Most people didn’t understand why my parents never forced me to go to college and get an education, but they didn’t understand the type of people Shelby and Eli James are. All they cared about was my happiness. My mom spent most of her life doing exactly what her mother demanded, never living her own dreams or having anything for herself, and she refused to do that to me. All my parents wanted was to see me happy, doing whatever it was that got me there, and I loved them more than anything for it.

Which is why I kept my mouth shut when Everett put his arms around me and pretended we were married. And it’s why I’m going to continue going along with it, even though everything inside of me is screaming that it’s a bad idea. The more time I spend with Everett, letting him get inside my head and my heart, the more it’s going to hurt when he pushes me away again. I couldn’t handle it the first time. I won’t survive it a second time. At least he’s right about one thing. We can worry about the consequences of his stupid decision later on, when I’m not sleep-deprived from worrying about the camp and still in shock about him being home.

“Don’t pretend like this fixes anything just because you happened to waltz back into my life today of all days,” I remind him. “We aren’t friends anymore, you made sure of that. Just because you know this camp and you know how much it means to me doesn’t mean you get a free pass for being an asshole.”

Everett doesn’t say anything else as I brush past him. I walk away and I keep right on walking, not stopping to talk to any of the workers as I go. I keep my head down and my tears in check until I get to the guest house. I move quickly through the living room and down the hall, refusing to let anything out until I’m in the safety of my bedroom. I don’t even make it to the bed. Closing the door behind me, I lean back against it and slide down to the floor, hugging my knees to my chest as the tears start to fall.

I hate that I’ve missed Everett so much, that a part of me wants to forgive him for everything. I hate that seeing him again gave me butterflies and made me remember all of the feelings I used to have for him. I hate that he’ll never understand how much his disappearance from my life broke my heart, because I can never tell him. I can never tell him that he always had my heart, and he took it with him when he left, because it will just make me look like a fool. A fool who waited around for years, hoping her best friend would someday fall in love with her. Hoping she’d get an e-mail or a phone call. Hoping for something. I refuse to let him know just how sad and pathetic I’ve been. How I’ve kept men at arm’s length since he left, building up a protective wall around me over the years because I refuse ever to be hurt like that again or allow anyone to get that close again. I’ve always been the strong, independent one in our friendship, and I don’t need the embarrassment of him seeing me as anything less than that. I refuse to be that girl.

My tears fall so fast that everything around me becomes a blur. I rest my head on my knees and don’t even try to stop them. I miss Aiden right now more than I have in nine months. If he were here right now, and we had to pretend to be married, we’d be laughing our asses off at the ridiculousness of it. He’d be making jokes about how he hit the jackpot with such a “hot” wife and he’d be demanding we consummate our fake marriage on every inch of the camp just to make it authentic.

My body shakes with sobs and I’m filled with so much guilt I think I might drown in it. I look down at the ring Aiden gave me, hold my hand up in front of me, twisting it until it catches on the overhead light in the room and sparkles. I picture Aiden’s smiling, happy face the day he gave me that ring and my heart hurts so much with missing him I feel like I can’t breathe. Pulling the ring off of my right hand, I switch it over to the left, sliding it on my ring finger. The pressure in my chest hurts so much I have to press my hand there to keep it inside, knowing I’m going to use this piece of jewelry now as a prop in this stupid farce with Stratford.

Even though I’d give anything to have Aiden back, I can’t stop that small flutter of joy in my heart that Everett is the one who came back to me, no matter how much damage he did to us. It feels like I’m being disloyal to Aiden. He never broke my heart. He never let me down. He never pushed me away. And yet, I know if someone had asked me, “Who do you wish had gotten out of Jason’s truck earlier?”—and if wishes really did come true and the impossible could happen, like someone coming back from the dead—I still would have wished for Everett. It would always be Everett who I wished for. I was always drawn to him because he was lost, and I wanted to help him find his way. Now that our situations are reversed, I’m scared to death to let him help me. Without Aiden, who’s going to help me find my way when Everett lets me down again?