Chapter Thirty Four: June/ Cam

June

Waking up in my old bedroom felt like stumbling into a forgotten dream—one with too many unanswered questions. The ceiling was still painted in the dull cream I always hated, the floral curtains still hung unevenly from when I last washed them myself, and yet, nothing felt the same. Last night hit me like fragments of broken glass—sharp in places, blurred in others. But I remembered hugging Cam.

God. Why did I do that?

I sat up, my throat dry, my heart thumping a little too loud. I don’t hug people—not like that. Definitely not him. But the memory refused to vanish. His arms had felt... solid. Familiar. The worst part? I didn’t want to pull away. I did, eventually, but not because I wanted to.

My phone buzzed, pulling me out of my head. Mia.

I braced myself.

“Wake up, sleepy head!” she yelled before I could even say hello.

“How are you so energetic after all that tequila?” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.