You’re being a pussy, you know that?” Jason asks, tossing the two boxes I asked him to get for me onto my kitchen table.

I quickly grab them and remove the lids, dumping the contents onto the table top.

“I’m not being a pussy. I’m giving her some space. Giving her time to think and realize she has no reason to doubt how I feel about her,” I tell him, flipping over all the little pieces, my heart feeling like someone stuck a knife in it when I see Cameron’s handwriting, which hasn’t really changed much over the years.

Each star has the date written on it, and each one of her stars from the time she was twelve has the exact same wish scribbled on it. I want to laugh when I start flipping my own stars over, but I’m not exactly in a laughing mood right now.

Why in the hell didn’t I just tell her I’m in love with her?

“Besides,” I continue, standing up from the chair and organizing everything I need on the table. “Three days is long enough. I’m going over there today and I’m not leaving until she talks to me.”

Three days without Cameron have been more than long enough. Too long. Each night I’ve gone to bed without her in my arms has been torture. Each text message and voice mail I’ve left her without a response has pushed me past my limit. My limit should have been the other morning in my bedroom when I let her walk away from me, but I honestly thought she’d come to her senses and realize none of what she was accusing me of is true.

That I didn’t love her.

That I only came back here and stayed and poured my heart out to her out of guilt.

That I hadn’t also been exhausted after years of being in love with my best friend and not doing anything about it because I was afraid.

“Are you actually going to tell her you love her this time?” Jason asks me, flopping down on the chair and picking up one of the pieces of paper.

I smack it out of his hand, glare at him, and go back to work with my project.

“I told her I love her.”

Jason laughs, the sound grating on my already frayed nerves.

“So you took her face in your hands, looked her right in the eyes, and said, ‘Cameron, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you forever. I. Love. You.’?”

“It was implied,” I growl.

“Sweet Christ, you’re an idiot. Have you learned nothing over the last few weeks? Hell, over the last thirty-three years?” he criticizes.

“I thought the whole show, don’t tell thing was what women liked. Romantic gestures, and all that shit,” I mumble.

“Not in this case. Tell me, how did you feel when Cameron actually said the words to you?”

I sigh, dropping the bottle of glue, resting my hands on top of the table, and letting my head drop as I take a minute to think about what he’s asking.

“Relief,” I finally whisper.

“And why is that?”

“Because no matter what was happening between us, I don’t think I actually believed it until she said the words.”

Son of a bitch.

“Bingo! And we have a winner!” Jason proclaims.

Why the hell didn’t I just say the words? Why did I think my actions would speak for themselves? More than anything else in the world, I wanted to look her in the eyes and tell her I loved her, but I was scared. I’d never said those words to another person in my life. I felt them for Cameron, deep down in my soul I felt them, but they just wouldn’t come out of my mouth when she needed to hear them. I spent so much time pretending like I hadn’t been in love with her all those years I spent away from her, that having everything I ever wished for right within my grasp scared the hell out of me. Saying something out loud makes it real. And when it’s real, it can be taken away from you. I didn’t want to lose her again, but I knew if I didn’t tell her what I should have the other morning, she’d slip right out of my grasp and no amount of apologizing would bring her back this time.

“This is probably a really stupid idea now, isn’t it?” I ask my brother, setting my creation into a glass frame and reattaching the wooden edges.

Jason stands up from his chair next to me and looks down, smacking me on the back.

“It’s pretty girly and shit, but I think she’ll like it. Are you taking it over there now?”

My phone dings with an incoming text message, and I quickly pull it out of my back pocket, my hope falling when I see it’s not from Cameron.

“Shit. Fucking hell,” I mutter, sending off a quick reply before putting my phone back in my pocket.

“You’re going out to the camp now, right?” I ask Jason, walking over to the kitchen counter and grabbing the keys to the truck.

“Yeah. Amelia is running some errands and she’s gonna meet me there for lunch.”

Grabbing the huge frame from the table, I hand it to him.

“Good, take this with you and give it to Cameron. I need to go meet up with someone really quick. And honestly, it might be better if someone else gives this to her and butters her up before I get there,” I tell him.

“Who are you meeting with?” Jason calls after me as I rush toward the front door.

“Just a friend from rehab. He’s having a bad day. I shouldn’t be too long.”