TANTRIC (Book 3 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 8: Hippie Chics and Two Princes

Well,  well, who is Ashlynn having brunch with? Time to find out.  

Two songs for this chapter. The playful song for the beginning of this chapter is Two Princes by the Spin Doctors. The sad song for the latter part of this chapter is...Crying, originally by Roy Orbision. I like the Christina Perri cover on YouTube...

Ashlynn

The last fifteen minutes were easier. Greeting him at my townhouse door, having Kat jump into his arms, squealing with her easy exuberance, hearing him laugh like the old days. Grabbing my bag, having him open the door of the rental car for me like he's done hundreds of times, even that seemed somewhat normal. Taking up all the time in the short car ride navigating to the restaurant for him, him commenting on the sunny California weather even in late January, me slipping into the old routine of choosing the music—all very easy. The hostess seating us, him asking me casually if I still took my coffee the same way, looking over the menu, laughing easily over his weird obsession with Canadian bacon—honestly, time could have stopped for us.

But now.

Now the coffee has been delivered, the orders have been taken, and I'm staring across the table at a man who used to be the boy I can't remember loving. I don't know what to feel. There's an echo. A sadness. A shadow of heartbreak.

Mostly I feel grateful that I can't feel the full force of it.

I guess mostly I am happy that Cam's eyes are bright and that his smile seems genuine, because the last few months I spent with him, I only remember his eyes filled with pity-love and sorrow. A smile that only existed to coax, charm and wheedle me from my bed or from my haze.

The silence is not as uncomfortable as it could be, I guess. He's staring at me, taking in every aspect of me with his bright eyes. If a stranger examined me this closely I would blush, but with Cameron it doesn't bother me. He's seen all of me more times than I can remember.

He shakes his head and laughs. He reaches to my temple, to the tiny pin pricks that are visible because I had an acupuncture appointment yesterday afternoon. "Here?" he says. "Where else?"

I touch my neck, my wrists. "I honestly don't know if it's the acupuncture or the yoga that stops the headaches. I started them together, and they work so well, I'm afraid to isolate them..."

"Don't," he says quickly. "You've found the treatment that works. Don't alter it, as long as it's working."

I giggle. "Dr. Martin doesn't want to know the true curative? That doesn't sound like the Cameron I know."

"Your health is not a medical trial," he pats my hand. "Ashlynn, I am so..." he shakes his head. "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you whole. So vibrant."

"You, too," I whisper, taking a brief sip of coffee to restore my courage. "Cam, I'm so sorry for everything I put you through—"

He pats my hand, cutting me off. "You were sick, Ash. None of it was your fault. I only blame myself, for not finding the answers for you." His dark eyes focus beyond my face in wistfulness. "I'm sorry, Ash. There is not a day that went by for years, that I didn't wish I had been stronger, that I hadn't looked at things differently. It's so damn crazy that Trace Gallant turned out to be the guy that did."

I smile into my coffee. Cam doesn't know the whole story. He knows that Trace married me in a desperate attempt to rehab me, took care of me for the last few years, spent crazy amounts of money trying to keep tabs on me while I ran from him for a year. He knows about the car accident that forced me to stop running from Trace. He knows Trace stood by me in that last, awful detox and re-united me with my parents. He thinks that Trace was responsible for sending me to the holistic rehab in Florida.