CAMBRIA

THIRTY-TWO

Just like that, they were back. As if no time had passed. They were experts now, after all.

They spent the next five days together, drinking in each other's presence, making up for lost time. But this time was different. Because this time, there was no Natalia. The thought of her did not linger in the back of Cambria's mind as it normally did, wondering when her perfect bubble would burst. This time, they were free.

He'd call her everyday when he got home from work, beckoning her over. They had so much to talk about, so much to catch up on. Yet still, the one thing they did not talk about was Saturday night, the question asked. The answer was inconclusive. She didn't know what to make of it, so she said nothing at all.

And then, after a week filled with nothing but Jackson, she had a date with Finn on Friday night.

Finn. She had nearly forgotten about him due to the windstorm that was Jackson. But how could she forget him? He had been the oxygen she needed when she was drowning.

He picked her up at seven and took her out for dinner. They spent the evening completely absorbed with each other. What she liked about Finn was that he was mature, considerate, and endearing. He opened the car door for her. Pulled out her chair before she sat. Ordered a bottle of wine for the table. And the conversation flowed naturally. She didn't feel awkward with him. She felt comfortable, his presence warming.

When she looked back on her relationship with Lawson, it was clear there were red flags from the very beginning. Red flags she had chosen deliberately to ignore. But it wasn't like that with Finn. There were no red flags at all. He was the perfect gentleman. And he was genuine.

She didn't want the night to end.

When he dropped her off at the end of the night, he made no move to kiss her, and Cambria wasn't sure how she felt about this. Disappointed, yes. But she also felt revered.

After that, things between them progressed effortlessly. She began calling him often, just to hear about his day. They'd stay up until four in the morning talking. And she did not care that she was tired at work the next day because talking with Finn had been worth it.

After their third date was when he finally kissed her, and it had been well worth the wait. She wanted to invite him in desperately but refrained, because good things take time, and she wanted this to be perfect.

And perfect it was.

The first time they had sex she could've sworn she was in love. Was it possible to fall in love that quickly? Then they had sex twice more that night and she was certain.

She was falling for him – hard. All the typical signs were there: butterflies in the stomach, stars in her eyes. She knew he was different, from the moment she met him. The way fate had brought them together. And now everything was lining up as it should.

Maybe this one could be different. Maybe this one could be The One.

Cambria neglected to mention any of this to Jackson. She wasn't sure why. Normally she didn't hold back when it came to telling him things. She told him everything. There were no secrets between them. But this, she wanted to keep to herself. It was the one thing Jackson couldn't ruin.

And then, a month after their reunion, Jackson's dog got sick. The night his parents took her to the vet, Cambria went over to the house to be there for him.

She knew he was worried, so she tried to keep his mind off things. After the sun had set, they sat out by the fire, a bottle of bourbon between them. Jackson was bad at dealing with his feelings, but he was also bad at dealing with pain. He didn't know how to cope with it so he didn't cope at all, choosing instead to pretend it didn't exist.

Cambria was the same way. Rather than address something head on, she avoided it, in hopes that if she just didn't think about it, it would eventually go away.

They passed the bottle back and forth between them, drowning their sorrows, numbing the pain. And when Jackson asked if they could do drugs, she didn't say no, because she didn't know how. But also because she wanted to. Like him, she, too, just wanted to feel happy.

This time he gave it to her in a capsule. She put it on her tongue and swallowed it down with more alcohol. And then forty-five minutes later, they both started to feel it.

She looked at him, he looked at her. Their pupils were huge. They both were grinning uncontrollably. She could feel it in her fingertips, in her skin. Her heart was racing. She had that feeling again, to run, to bolt, but she fought it and remained still, seated next to Jackson as they watched the flames flicker before them.

It was at this very moment that his parents returned home from the vet. And it was then that the atmosphere suddenly changed, because no longer was their dog with them.

Jackson didn't know how to process the news; was unable to process anything, due to the drugs. Large amounts of serotonin and dopamine had been released in their brains, which resulted in extreme happiness, despite the dire circumstances. They had to excuse themselves and go for a long walk to avoid the despair that was evidently present back at the house.

When they returned a couple hours later, everyone was in bed, the house dark and quiet. They crept up the stairs silently and made their way to Jackson's room.

He lay on his bed wordlessly, the only light being that from the moon. Cambria crawled over to him and lay with her head on his chest.

"That was really fucked up," she said at last.
"I know," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "Worst fucking timing."
It was quiet for a moment, and she didn't know what to say. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
She sighed. "I feel really fucking good right now."
"Me too."
"What should we do?"

Rather than answer, he ran his fingertips across her arm. Goosebumps covered her skin. It felt so good to be touched.

But then she remembered Finn.

She knew it was wrong, what she was doing. If there was a line, they had already crossed it. They crossed it the moment they did drugs together. Even there, lying on his bed with her head on his chest, was crossing a line. Yet still, she could not put a stop to it.

It was the routine of it, the comfort. This is how they had always been. To stop now would be unnatural. And so, despite everything she was feeling inside – the trepidation, the hesitation, the restraint she wished she had – she let it happen.

The only one she could blame was herself.

He kissed her, soft and slow, and it felt so good, so right. She brought her hands to his face, felt the scruff on his cheeks. He moved on top of her, his body fitting hers just right. He moved slowly, methodically, and everything she had doubted came flooding back. She loved him. She was in love with him. Everything with him made sense. They made sense.

He took off her clothes, and then his own. He looked at her in a way that no one else had ever really looked at her. Not only like he understood her, but that he was her. Just as she was him. She had never known someone who was every bit of her as she was them.

They were the same.

The final thought that entered her brain before drifting off to sleep was of Finn. And she knew then that she was a horrible person. But there was nothing she could do to change that.