The Perfect Timing

Chapter Nineteen

Cameron

I just got settled into my flight to LA, letting out a frustrated sigh as I rest my head on the glass. I saw all of the articles that came out about Maddie, and it makes me want to scream. None of these stupid, made-up stories are true, but if I react and become irate it'll just make the situation worse. I have to let it go as hard as it is.

Reaching into my backpack, I go to grab my headphones until my hands hit something hard. I pull it out gently, and I realize that I'm holding the photo album that Maddie was going to show me. It's polka-dot pink, with a picture of Izzy's face in the center. I run my thumb over the picture.

How did she slip this into my bag? I mean, the backpack has been sitting on my barstool for days. Maybe she slid it in there without me seeing it? She must have.

On the top of the album, there's a sticky note that says, for you to look at to pass the time. - Maddie

Am I even ready to see this? I don't think I am, but it's intriguing, to say the least. Before I can think about it any longer I flip the cover open to the first page, the breath catching in my throat.

It's a picture of Maddie in her bedroom standing by the window. The curtains are drawn, and all you can see is the silhouette of her naked, pregnant body. This must have been professionally taken.

The other pictures are of her in an open white cotton shirt, both of her hands on her stomach. These ones you can clearly see her, and my god, she's perfect. She's pregnant with my child, and I'm infatuated with all of the photos. Every single one.

She's breathtakingly beautiful.

Flipping to the next page, I see photos from the day Izzy was born. Maddie is in a hospital bed in a gown, giving two thumbs up at the person who's taking the picture. I'm assuming it's her mom.

Beside that one is of her on an operating table. There's a curtain in front of her to block what's going on in surgery, but baby Izzy is on her chest. In the picture, Maddie is crying happy tears, and I find myself blinking away tears of my own.

Izzy is so tiny. Even tinier than she is now. It looks like she could fit in the palm of my hand. The chubbiest of cheeks, a little tiny button nose, and the greenest eyes, just like mine.

Wasn't Maddie scared? Didn't she want me there for this? I should have been contacted about this, but oddly enough as I look at the photos I don't find myself getting angry. I'm sad, but the pictures are still nice to look at. I'm at least feeling like I was there somewhat.

If only I had just reached out to her and come clean about what Katie had threatened. Our lives would be completely different. We'd be married right now, and I probably would have gotten her pregnant again if she wanted me to. I'd have five Izzy's with her if she wanted.

On the last page though is when I find myself unable to keep the tears at bay. In Maddie's handwriting, it says, for Izzy. There are pictures of Maddie and me throughout the years. When we were kids on their family's annual trip to Myrtle Beach and Maddie had lost her two front teeth. My arm is wrapped around her, Ethan crying in the background because he didn't get this specific ice cream he wanted. I remember that day vividly.

Next to that picture is one of us at my dad's house at one of the gatherings that we used to have when my mom was still alive. She's in the picture holding a glass of lemonade next to Maddie's mom as Maddie, Ethan and I are running around with popsicles in our hands.