Chapter Song: Lay Me Down - Sam Smith (feat. John legend)
XX
"This has to end."
"Why do we have to end?"
"You know that's not what I mean."
"But that's what you're saying. Cam, this week you've had...it's unlike any other. No one should have to go through what you're going through right now."
"I didn't have to go through this."
"But that's the thing." I'm crying now—I can't help it, and I don't really care anymore. "Nothing could have prevented this. They are horrible things that happened, but you didn't cause them—we didn't cause them."
"I think you're wrong. I think...this is going to keep happening."
"If this is our curse, then shouldn't it be punishing us?"
"Killing my loved ones is the worst punishment I could think of."
"Then what about my family?"
"Are you going to wait for them to start dying too?"
"Fuck," I whisper, and I try to push him away from me. "Let go of me already, okay?"
"Layla, wait," he pulls me back to him and kisses me hard. His eyes roam frantically over my face, and I think that he's trying to memorize this, too. "I need you to understand why I'm doing this."
"I don't understand, and nothing you say is going to change that."
"I love you, okay? God Layla, you're what I think about when I wake up every morning. You are—"
"You can't say that to me! You can't say that to me and then leave me." I try to control the panic rising in my throat. "You've had a horrible day. Won't you just go to sleep and think about this a little bit? Why are you doing this right now?"
He doesn't respond right away, but his hand slips into my hair and he kisses me again. Part of me wants to shove him away. He doesn't get to love me and leave me at the same time. It isn't fair for him to want both of those things. But another part of me believes that if I kiss him and really, truly, mean it, that maybe he'll decide to stay. I don't care about being pathetic now. I'll beg, I'll grovel, if that's what it takes. Without Cam, I have nothing left. I can't go home, and I won't go to Jackson Courtland. All I've ever wanted is to be with Cam.
"I'm going home tonight," he says gently. "And I think you should come too."
"I can't go back unless I agree to be with that prick."
"I know."
"Then why the hell are you saying something like that?"
"Because maybe this is what we have to do."
"I can't believe it." I push him gently away from me and take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself. "You told me that we were going to run, and so I ran. You don't get to tell me that we were wrong."
"I don't know what's wrong or right anymore, Layla!" I'm surprised when he snaps at me, and his jaw is tight as he runs a hand over his face. "This isn't about us anymore. It's about my family. If something happened to Amy or Alina, I wouldn't be able to live with myself."
"Nothing will happen to them!"
"Dammit Layla, you just don't know that! What would you say to me if Alina died tomorrow? You'd tell me that bad things can pile on top of each other but that doesn't mean there's a curse. There's no body count that's going to convince you that we fucked up."
"I'm not trying to kill your family, Cam."
"I didn't mean that," he tries, a little more softly. "I think...If the elders matched us to someone else, then we need to try to trust them."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
I shrug, slapping my hands back against my thigh. "Fine. Go home. Cut me out. But I'm not running back to you, all right? The moment you realized you fucked up it will be too late."
"Layla..."
"No, don't act like that. I'm not the one being unreasonable right now." I rummage through the closet until I find his duffle bag, and Cam only watches as I set it on the bed.
"What are you doing?"
"Helping you leave."
"Won't you talk to me about this more?"
"What the hell is there to talk about? What else can you possibly say that is going to make this better?"
"I just want you to understand," he tries again.
"Well I'm not going to, so you're wasting your breath." I wish I had it in me to just shove his clothes into the bag, but I fold them and pack them tight and neat despite myself. He doesn't say anything as he watches me, and eventually he's standing beside me, helping me push him out the door. "How are you even going to get back there?"
"The blacktop heading north isn't in too bad of shape, and the highway department okayed the bridge that way."
"You've been paying attention. You've been thinking about leaving even before Peter..."
"I was afraid something else would happen. And then it did." He stares darkly at me and then glares into the duffle bag. "I should have just gone home after mom died. Maybe Peter would still be alive."
I bite my lip and shake my head slowly, but it's too difficult to hold back my words, and I don't really care to anyway. "That's bullshit, Cam, it really is. And you should have just told me you were thinking about it."
"You didn't want to believe in a curse."
"No, Cam, I was trying to keep you from feeling like you killed the people closest to you. But you're fucking off now so I guess that's not my responsibility anymore, is it?"
"I'm fucking off? You think I want any of this?"
"I think you're afraid, and I think you're jumping ship when times get hard." I turn away from the bed, unable to look at that fucking bag anymore. There aren't too many dishes in the sink, but I start washing them anyway. I want an excuse to not look at him.
"Hey." Cam's voice is biting and hollow behind me as he follows me across the room. "Times aren't getting hard, Layla. Mom and Pete are dead."
"Life is hard, Cam."
"Can you even look at me when you say that? Do you get how fucked up that is to say?"
I think I'm losing my mind a little bit. I do know how fucked up it is. I know exactly how fucked up every single thing I've said tonight has been. But this whole situation is fucked. His best friend just died and he's decided to leave me because of it. If Cam's dad hadn't tried to pin his mom's death on him...
But no, I don't think that would have solved it either. I think there was a part of Cam that was always looking out for signs of our decision being the wrong one. I don't think it was intentional—but how could he not, when his family cut him off and we were living out of a car outside of shitty little human town? Some part of me believed that Cam and I would always be enough for each other, that we could lose everything and in some way it wouldn't matter as much because we had each other. I don't want that to be wrong. I don't want to acknowledge that I was wrong.
Cameron's hands wrap gently around my arms and turn me away from the sink, and I don't know what to do with the anger, the hurt, on his face. His expression softens a little when he sees my tears, and he tries to pull me to him but I wedge an arm between us.
"I can't do a goodbye like this," I manage. "Please, just either leave or stay."
Cam's hands fall to my wrists and he brings them toward him, and I don't know what to do but cry when he kisses my hands and wraps my arms around his neck. He pulls me into him and I bury my face in his neck, holding onto him tight enough I worry that I'll cut off his air.
"You're always going to be the love of my life, Layla."
"Stop," I cry into his shoulder. "Just stop."
"I'm so sorry." His hands stroke up and down my back and he gives a shuddering sigh. I'm not the only one in pain right now, I know I'm not. He just lost his friend, and his mother, and now he's effectively losing his partner too.
"I'm sorry too," I whisper. "I don't...I don't want to hold it against you."
"Just take your time, okay?"
"But your dad said you could never even speak to me again."
"If I'm back in the elder's graces then there's nothing he can do about that."
I nod and sigh into him, wishing he could just hold me like this forever, but knowing that the longer he does, the harder it will be for me to let him go. "I'm going to need time."
"Please, Layla, please just come back with me."
"No. I'm not going to be forced to be with anyone."
"I don't want you to be alone." He kisses my cheek and holds me at arms length, and it's like having part of my heart ripped away.
"That's just how it is, Cam."
"I'll never stop looking out for you."
"I know."
We sit on the bed in silence, and soon it's past midnight. It doesn't matter how much I beg him to stay, Cam seems determined that if the sun rises and he isn't back in Rust Cove, some other terrible thing will happen to someone he loves. For a fleeting moment, I hope it does, and I hope it's me. That would be a simpler way to deal with this curse, for it to eat me alive. When Cam stands at last, it feels like moving through water when I follow him to the door, duffle bag in my hand. There are a thousand words that threaten to burst out of me as screams, or threats, or pleas. But I stay quiet and let him kiss me, simultaneously cursing my desire for him and thriving in it. I want to pull him back to bed, to shed our clothes until he's convinced that he should stay. It's a stupid idea, that there is anything I can offer him now, when he's made up his mind.
"Cam," I finally say when we've reached his car. "What I said back there, about running back to you. I hope you know I was lying."
He doesn't say anything, but he smiles, a strange, distant smile, and sets his duffle bag in the back seat. "If you ever want to come home, I'll drive anywhere to pick you up. I don't like the thought of you being alone here."
"Thanks. I'll be okay, though, I think. I'm better suited for the human world than I thought."
It's a lie, but Cam doesn't try to correct me. And then he kisses me, one final, quick kiss, that slips away too soon before he ducks into the driver's seat. When he starts the engine, he doesn't look at me, and I realize that by standing here, I'm making it harder for him to drive away. I know I can't scream at him or beg him to come back upstairs now, but I want to. I want to unravel and force him to pick up the pieces. But then he's driving slowly away beneath the faded streetlamps, and soon the only sounds are the bugs flinging themselves into the little false moons. When I turn back to the apartment, the door upstairs looks like a yawning, hungry mouth. I let it devour me. I sit on the floor of our apartment—no, my apartment—and spread my savings across the floor. I'd have another month of rent if I only ate from the cafe. It's doable, if a little unpleasant.
But the thought strikes me, fierce and unyielding. Why the hell should I stay? What could possibly be here for me in Finn, Minnesota, if Cam isn't here with me? All of my friendships are based upon a lie. Peter is dead. Tom doesn't want to be saddled with a broke, sad, werewolf. And Jeana, bless her heart for everything she's done for us—she won't be able to afford to lower rent for me. But it doesn't matter, because I'm not going to stay here.
If Cam is leaving, then I'll leave to. I'll find a new place for myself. I'll start over again. I've heard that it's safer for wolves in Canada; maybe I'll try crossing the border. Or maybe I'll head past Duluth and lose myself in the woods of northwest Minnesota, maybe I'll go a little wild for awhile. Maybe there's a different kind of freedom in being completely alone.
XX
Can we just take a moment to acknowledge that Sam Smith has the most gut-wrenchingly sad songs?