Stepping into Fresh Way, Camron was hit with that familiar disdain he'd developed after working in the grocery store for the past five years. It was like he had just remembered how much he hated working there with the bad fluorescent lights and that strange odor that most grocery stores have.
The only thing that made working in the tiny supermarket was the fact that he was with Becca. The two of them spent countless days and night goofing around, making messes and then cleaning them up. All the times they would sneak off into the breakroom; he was pretty sure that's where Adeline was conceived.
Taking a deep breath, Camron pushed forward into the air-conditioned store.
"And the prodigal son returns," he heard someone Caml out. Turning, he came face to face with Tony Jaramillo.
"Fuckin' asshole," Camron chuckled before stepping forward and embracing the much smaller man.
Tony fuckin' Jaramillo. He was the manager of Fresh Way and the one who gave Camron a chance when no one else would. The man was like a father to Camron, he'd never felt such unconditional love from anyone before.
"You filled out, ain't ya? They had y'all out there working the prison yard," the graying man joked, his cheeky smile deepening the wrinkles on his brown face.
Camron laughed; a fake laugh, but a laugh nonetheless.
Tony had always been the one to crack jokes with Camron. The two of them together were the budget rip-offs of Martin and Lewis. Still, Tony was the star between the two of them; he was the one to bring light to a dull situation, but even this was hard to laugh at.
Glancing around the nearly-empty grocery store, Camron was desperate to see if Becca was there or not. She hadn't been answering his phone calls and she wasn't replying to his texts; if she wanted to be upset, that was fine, but keeping him from his daughter was crossing the line.
"She's in the back," Tony spoke, the edge of humor now gone from his voice. It was as if he was reading Camron's mind. "It's her lunch break."
For a moment, Camron wasn't sure what to do; whether he should wait outside for her shift to be over or if it'd be better to barge into the employee breakroom to give her a piece of his mind.
"Cam," Tony started. His expression screamed authority figure as he stared up at Camron. Crossing his arms over his chest, he shook his head. "It might be best for you to catch her when she's not working."
"But she's not working right now; she's on her lunch break."
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It was hot outside. It was humid and hot and Camron knew that he should've bought a bottle of water before being escorted out of the grocery store by Tony.
He'd spent the last three hours sitting on an uncomfortable metal bench outside next to the store's automatic-sliding doors; waiting and waiting and waiting. Three more minutes and Becca's shift would be over.
Those three minutes felt like an eternity. Every thirty-seconds, Camron was glancing at his phone's lock screen just to see if time had moved any faster.
It never did.
"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
The irritation was evident which caused Camron's hands to sweat. The last thing he needed was to be bitched out by his baby mama in the parking lot of a low budget grocery store about his stint in prison. That was just too much of a Jerry Springer cliché for him.
Turning around, he was met with Becca's hostility. Arms crossed, face scrunched up, and her foot rapidly tapped the ground; she was about to let him have it.
"Bec--." Before he could finish, she was already stomping away into the parking lot towards her 2001 Honda Civic.
Not the reaction that he was expecting, that was for sure.
Camron found himself speed walking after her. He didn't want to come across as intimidating or creepy to any of the very few customers in the parking lot, but he didn't want to give her the chance to get away from him. They needed to talk, whether she wanted to or not; it wasn't just the two of them, their daughter was involved, and he'd be damned if he allowed Adelina to be taken from him.
"Rebecca," he snapped, lunging forward and grabbing onto the door of her car just as she slipped into the driver's seat. "Talk to me. You have to talk to me."
"Get off my car," she shouted, obviously not caring if people would begin to stare. Trying her hardest to close the door, Camron used all his strength to hold onto it; he pulled himself inward, stepping between Becca and the door which caused her to let go of the inside handle.
"Fucking talk to me, Becca! Stop running and fucking talk!"
Head pounding and heart racing, Camron didn't bother to look around the parking lot to see if people were staring at them. In all honesty, he didn't really care. This was a conversation that needed to be had and he wasn't going to let Becca run anymore.
It was quiet for a few moments. They stared at one another, neither wanting to break their gaze or the silence between them. The nosy parking lot spectators moved on and it was just the two of them.
"Sorry for yelling," Camron muttered, hoping that an apology would help to get a conversation flowing. "And cursing at you."
Becca blinked before slumping into the seat.
"Get in; we'll talk."
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It was now dark outside. Camron and Becca had been sitting in her car in that parking lot for almost two hours and not a single word had been said.
Normally, by now, Becca would've finished cursing him out before kicking him out of her barely functional car and leaving him there to fend for himself. This silence was starting to feel like an even worse punishment.
"She cried for you every night," Becca spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "It got so bad, she had to start sleeping with me."
Camron could feel his heart squeezing with guilt. He wanted to defend himself so that it would hurt less; he wanted to take that guilt away. It was too heavy to push onto some weak excuse, so he sat in it.
"She kept having nightmares that you were dead, Camron."
It was like someone had shot him in his chest, right through his heart. He willed himself to keep his composer, to keep his emotions at bay. This was the time for Becca to get all that she needed off of her chest and it wouldn't help if he started to lose his cool.
"She...," Camron could hear the emotion in her voice with the way it cracked before Becca cleared her throat. "She wanted me to take her to your fuckin grave. To leave you flowers."
He sat there, staring at the only woman he had ever loved as she began to cry. They weren't silent tears, the cute little sniffles he was used to; her shoulders racked with sobs as she bent over and wrapped her arms around the steering wheel.
There wasn't anything he could say in that moment to make Becca Camm down, he knew that from experience. Instead, he sat there and stared. He stared for minutes as she sobbed, the heartbreak forming in her airways as she cried out.
His hands itched to reach out and hold her; the urge to comfort her was almost too big of a pill to swallow.
"Becca," he whispered once her uncontrollable sobs subsided. She was still slumped over the steering wheel, too wiped from her mini mental breakdown to move. "Can I see her?"
Lifting her head up, eyes red and puffy with a face wet from tears and snot and spit, she stared daggers at him. He never knew what would push her buttons; she was finicky like that. Still, he was no stranger to the warning signs of her wrath.
He wrapped a hand around the door handle, prepared to jump out just in case she blew up on him.
"I fucking hate you," she spat at him. "I hate you for what you did to us."
He opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't form the words. Sitting there, with his mouth opening and close like one of those electronic decorative wall- fish, he felt as stupid as he looked.
"Get out. Get the fuck out!"
Immediately, Camron swung the car door open and jumped out. He barely had time to close the door before Becca was speeding out of the now-empty parking lot.
He stood there, watching as her little red Honda Civic sped down the small-town road. She was out of sight within a matter of seconds.
Numb; he was numb. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, and he wanted to run as fast as he could to chase her down, but he was too numb.
"Camron, you okay?"
Looking behind him where the voice came from, he nearly broke down right then and there.
"Tony," he started, his voice choking as the lump in his throat grew.
The older man stared in silence for a minute, unsure of what to do next. Finally, he motioned to the beaten-up SUV in the far corner of the parking lot.
"C'mon; I'll give you a ride."
Camron said nothing more; quietly, he sulked his way toward the SUV as he trailed behind the older man.
He was lost. No direction, no plan; his heart was aching, and he couldn't bring himself to feel it anymore. The only thing he knew for certain was that he'd rather die than to have his daughter kept from him.
And he wasn't planning on dying anytime soon.
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Author's Note: i'll be updating this pretty frequently seeing as i have the first eight chapters already written
again, pretty pissed i deleted my acc ))): lol it is what it is sgjskjgsgkj