“Come on, Man,” Lewis urges.

He pulls that pitiful look that he knows I hate. I scowl at him and shake my head.

“You’re just going to mope around here feeling sorry for yourself. Going out might make you feel better,” he reasons.

“Fine. Whatever.” I sigh, just to shut him up.

The only thing that’s going to fix this probably never wants to see me again.

Lewis nods. “Good.” He smiles, looking pretty proud of himself as he wheels over to the door. I open it for him. “Come over whenever you’re ready, then.”

I shut the door and then stalk down to the shower. I strip off and step under the water. The last thing I feel like doing is going out, but Lewis is probably right. I’m sure it will help take my mind off Darcy, if only for a few hours. I didn’t handle things well yesterday and I’m not sure how to fix it.

When I found out that she was really the one playing me, I lost control. All I could think was that her feelings were a lie too, that the chick I was falling in love with didn’t feel anything for me in return. That’s what got me upset and now I’m not sure what to think. I didn’t give her a chance to explain, nor did I tell her why I was acting the way I was.

I shut off because that’s the only way I know how to deal with pain.

The doorbell rings while I’m still in the shower. I sigh and quickly get out, drying myself off before throwing on my pants.

“Jesus, calm down. I’m coming,” I mutter.

I yank open the door and frown.

Darcy.

My heart lifts, but then plummets as I fight myself on how to react. She’s both the last person and the only person I want to see, and I’m struggling to deal with that. But one look at the expression on her face and I know she’s not leaving until she says what she came here to say, anyway, so I let her inside.

“What do you want?” I ask her quietly. “I was just about to go out.”

“Can you give me five minutes?” she asks, her eyes searching mine.

“Fine,” I say. I stand back to let her inside. “Would you like a drink or something?” I ask awkwardly.

“No, I just need to say something, if that’s okay?” she asks.

She sounds nervous, which makes me nervous as to what this is about.

“Okay,” I say.

She nods and takes a deep breath, looking me in the eye.

“I like you, Cam,” she begins. “All jokes aside, I'm here to tell you that I like you. You're unlike anyone I've met. You’re funny, sweet, and you look damn sexy in a dress—”

She stops and winces when I frown at her.

“Too soon?” she nods, answering her own question. “Way too soon. Anyway, my point is that none of it was a lie. Remember how you told me when you sent those messages as James, that's how you really felt? This is the same thing. Everything we spoke about, everything we did? It was real. For me, at least.”

“And when you kissed me?” I ask.

“That was real,” She stands up and steps closer to me.

“When you touched me?” she continues, her fingers touching my arm. “What I felt was real. So were the feelings I felt when you were inside me.” She pauses and looks into my eyes. “All of that was real.”

I stare at her, my heart racing hearing.

“Darcy—”

She shakes her head and lifts her finger to my lips.

“Don’t say anything now,” she whispers. “I want you to really think about it. About us and whether that’s something you want to explore, because I'm not sure I can handle any more games.”

She walks over to the door but looks back at me before she leaves.

“I'll see you tomorrow at the wedding, okay?” she smiles at me.

“Okay,” I say. “Night, Darc.”

“Night.”

She walks out, and it takes everything I have not to chase after her and tell her that I don’t need to think about it, because I know she's what I want. Maybe what I need to do is prove that to her. I smile, because I think I know just the way to do it.

“You want me to do what?” Lewis stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Are you kidding? I mean, have you heard me sing?”

“Come on, man. Do it for me?” I plead with him. “I can’t think of anyone I’d want up there with me, more than you. I need you to be part of this. I need to have my back.”

He groans and then shakes his head.

“Fine. Whatever. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

I grin and clap him on the back. I knew he wouldn’t let me down. “Instead of going out and getting drunk, do you mind if we do something else tonight?” I ask.

I leave Lewis, because there’s one other person I need to speak with. Dad looks surprised to see me when I knock on his front door. He shifts awkwardly as he looks at me.

“If you’re looking for Mack, he’s at a friend’s house,” he explains.

“No, I’m looking for you, actually.”

He frowns at me and looks surprised, but then he stands back to let me in. I follow him down to the living room and sit down, accepting his offer of a drink when he offers one. I sigh, using the moment to myself to be sure this is what I want. I look up and smile, accepting the glass of scotch when he hands it to me.

“So, what can I do for you?” he asks.

I shrug. “I just wanted to apologize,” I mutter. “For the way I’ve been acting and the way I’ll no doubt act in the near future.”

“It’s fine,” he murmurs.

“No. It isn’t. I’m really sorry. I wasn’t going to tell you this…”

I sigh, I’m not sure I could’ve picked a worse time to bring this up, but I don’t want him standing up there tomorrow, thinking that I don’t care or that I don’t support their marriage, because I do.

“What is it?” he frowns. “Cameron?”

“Tomorrow.” I press my lips together and then look up at him. “Three years to the day since Mom got her diagnosis.”

His frown deepens. He looks at me, confused, then he shakes his head.

“What?” No. I’d remember something like that.” He looks at me. “I remember you calling me to tell me. It was…” His voice trails off as his eyes meet mine. I can tell by the look in them he knows.

“How did I not realize?” he mutters. “That’s why you’ve been so distant?

I nod. “It was never about me wanting to rebel against you, or anything like that. I just wasn’t sure how I would manage.” I laugh. “But I don’t have a choice.”

I stand up, remembering how much shit I still have to organize if I’m going to pull this off tomorrow.

“One more thing,” I say to Dad. “How are your dancing skills?”