· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

    I hate the phrase 'falling in love' – it feels so negative. Falling is always a bad thing, right? So why would you want to fall in love? Is it that whoever came up with the phrase had a bad experience and thought love was negative? Is it that love is such a tangle of shit that the only way to describe going into it is falling? Is there even a positive way to say it? I don't know.

Maybe it's up to us to determine the context. Falling might be bad, but you always get up after a fall and make things better. Falling when you're learning to walk is natural, you just keep falling over until one time, you finally get it right. Maybe that's why they call it falling in love. Once you've found the one, you don't fall anymore, right?

Well, that's the theory.

I fell in love with Elliott. There's no doubt about that. He was my first everything; kiss, date, sex, actual love. For so, so long, I thought he was it: I would never get another chance at love because, luckily, I found my one and only in him. I don't quite remember when I started seeing Cameron differently, but there were moments when I was sixteen/seventeen and looking his way with a small blush, or finding myself awkward when alone with him. I'd grown up with him in a way, and I never saw him before as anything else as a friend. It's strange what you remember looking back, though. Even if I found him attractive and had a little crush, there was no way I'd have thought any deeper than that because of Elliott.

After Elliott died, I never thought I'd get another chance to fall in love – why would I have needed to? My one and only died, and that was it. My soulmate was gone. I don't think Courtney was ever near that status – something was always off about it. My subconscious knew that wasn't right and I was settling.

But now I'm here and faced with it, I realise somewhere along the line, my subconscious and myself have been two separate things that have had no communication. It's taken me to be in this situation and see Cameron again to realise that I fell in love with him a long time ago. I'm unsure whether it was before he rescued me from the water, or the moment in the hospital cubicle when he was about to tell me he loved me.

There was a moment before he rescued me and we were sitting together watching some crappy film on TV to distract us from grief, and he held my hand through it. I distinctly remember feeling this warmth feeling but brushing it off as a moment of okay-ness in the whirlpool of grief.

I don't know which moment was the moment I fell in love with Cameron. It's taken this long to realise it, despite the night we spent together and the awkwardness of everything.

My parents never brought us up with religion or spirituality, but always gave us the education of everything, especially with Mum being from a Māori background. I remember her telling us how the Māori people were always rather progressive in love and marriage, with casual sexual relationships before marriage being no problem. While tribe leaders would have many wives, most marriages below were made out of choice and monogamous, but they also had the prospect of a divorce just by agreeing to not be together anymore.

I once asked her if Māori's believed in soulmates, to which she said she was never told they did, but her family did. She told me, 'My family told me that in all the relationships they had, one soul – wairua – that stood out to them like a fire burning. That was their soulmate. Your dad's wairua has always stood out to me like wildfire. I believe in soulmates. It's up to everyone to decide if they believe in it.'

Looking back, I've always believed Elliott was it – my only soulmate. You only get one shot, right? Why else would there be such a concept?

The shower washes away the shampoo from my hair and with it, all the tears I unleashed when I got in here. The memories of Elliott and the whole time of my life haunt me to this day; sometimes I'll have nightmares about it. I used to wake up crying and sweating, and though Courtney would hold me those times, she never really got it. Clearly, with how she unleashed her real thoughts the other day, she didn't care, either. It's strange – during Courtney, I thought she was everything. Hell, I was willing to marry her, but I now wonder if it was just a case of a beautiful woman, and someone completely different from Elliott and Cameron. Someone to keep the bed warm – when she was there – and company while I tried to bury what happened in the past. It's amazing what the brain can trick you into doing.

As for Cameron, I may have fallen for him after Elliott died, but I know one thing for sure: I loved him before that. Love and being in love are two things.

But as the water cascades down my back, I'm left with one thought: how can someone love two people at the same time? Even more than that, I've never fallen out of love with Elliott, so how can I be in love twice? How could I even have loved Elliott really, when my subconscious also wanted Cameron? Surely I'm the worst person ever – I fell in love with someone else so quickly after Elliott died. My grief was fresh, new and I had barely registered it, and there I was falling for someone else. Surely that's betrayal, how could it even be fair to either of them?

The real, rational side of me knows that's not quite how it works. Love isn't a choice in regards to sexuality, but it's also not a choice in terms of who you love and when. I never meant to fall for Cameron, yet I did. I never even knew I had deep down until now. I didn't sit there one day and choose to fall in love with Elliott, nor did I with Cameron. It'd be easier for everyone if I wasn't in love with Cameron because he's my brother's best friend, and someday, Luke will have to find out – if we even get together. It would be easier if I didn't have to love him because of our messy past and the constant guilt I feel for everything. Yet here we are.

Did I love Courtney? I did, and that wasn't a choice. I don't think I was ever in love with her, though. At the time, during our relationship, I know I would've wanted to, but I never was. She was right in that my mind was always in the past, but not only was my head still tangled in the shit with Elliott, but I didn't recognise it was also too fixated on Cameron – because I was in love with him and wanted to go back.

I finish washing and turn the shower off. The problem now is, I have to go out there and face Cameron who now knows the truth. Not just about my feelings, but about Elliott. While it's a relief to have finally told someone – and no, I know deep down it's not my fault – it's still awkward. What if he tells me to tell the police? What if he remembers the teacher who did this and goes and gets revenge? What if—

Cameron's not like that. I may not have known him properly for six years while I've been in London, but I know him. Humans might mature and grow, change their political views or taste for things like alcohol and pasta, but their fundamentals never change. Cameron wouldn't do that kind of thing.

I get myself dressed in different pyjamas, fix my hair and sigh. The puffiness of my eyes has gone down a little, and they're no longer as red as they were, but the evidence of the heaviness is still there. I guess it would be; this hasn't been the easiest of evenings.

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

    The one good thing about being a cake maker is that you never run out of ideas for dessert. Before we came here, I made a batch of red velvet cakes seeing as Cameron enjoyed them so much, and hid them on the way down. I dish him one up for when he gets out of the shower and leave it on the kitchen side for him, along with a can of fizzy drink. Though we both could do with something stronger after the night so far, I think we've both had enough.

I sip my cup of tea as the door to his bedroom opens and Cameron walks out, new jogging bottoms on and a loose grey t-shirt. His hair is damp and as he walks through, I can smell his deodorant. It's a weird but alluring scent of honeyed plants and mint plus a little citrus, maybe. His eyes immediately go to the cake on the side.

"Did you just make this?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No, I made a bunch of cupcakes before we came here. Brought them up hidden so you didn't eat them all at once. I got that out for you now; thought you might need it."

His face lights up like it's Christmas morning as he claims the prize. "Holy shit, you're amazing. Thank you."

A laugh comes out of my mouth. "You're welcome. I made them with the last of the ingredients I had left and I know you loved them, so... yeah."

He perches on one of the dining chairs and eats the cake. "It seems so stupid to ask, but are you okay?"

I sigh and nod. "Yeah, I'm okay. Everything feels a bit lighter now it's out there. No one has known for so long and it's been building up inside, but now, though it's still a bit raw to think about, it's lighter."

He nods. "Thank you for telling me."

I shrug. "Are you okay?"

"It's a lot, but yeah, I'm okay. I think it'll take a while to sink in, but it's also the past, you know? I can't change anything, do anything or fix things. What I can do is make sure that I'm here to support you. The thing to remember is that you went through this too, Kenna." He finishes the cake and puts the plate on the side.

I smirk in disbelief. "No, I didn't."

"You did. The crime may have happened to Elliott, but you were his closest friend, his girlfriend and his, well, person. He told you and you only. You watched his plight, even if you didn't know until after the fact. You had this burden on you for so long; Kenna, you went through this too, just in a different way."

"Please don't make me cry again. I've just sorted my eyes out." I breathe. "You don't need to be here for me, it's in the past. What I will say, though, is I'm sorry for how I acted after we slept together, and for basically causing your depression and PTSD."

He scoffs and shakes his head. "You didn't cause it, don't be silly. There's nothing to be sorry for. It is what it is. It's a chemical balance and shit. I take pills for it, get therapy and all is dandy again."

I arch an eyebrow. "Did you just say... dandy?"

Cameron grins. "I did. But in all seriousness, Kenna, it's fine. You don't have to have that burden of my problems, okay? It's no one's fault."

"It feels like mine, though."

"I promise you, it's not." He stands after sipping his drink and sits beside me on the sofa. "Please don't burden yourself. If you do one thing for me in this weird stage we're in, please let it be not blaming yourself for my issues. Hell, I don't even blame myself and it's my brain."

I look him in the eyes and see the truth in them. If life has taught me anything to this point, it's that it's like a snake. People see it as this ultimate good thing; the golden apple, the one thing we strive for, but it's not. It's a deceiver. It's really the snake that comes slithering up to you, coiling around you and strangling until you're dead and has you in a constant chokehold.

But this truth feels... freeing. Cameron's telling me the truth when he says he doesn't blame me.

"Okay," I whisper.

He smiles. "Good."

"I was thinking, while I was in the shower and I—" I stop myself because once I say this truth, there's no coming back from this. While it might be a good thing, this could also change absolutely everything. We basically admitted it before, but this is different. This is with a clear head and in the aftermath of everything.

It's funny; in the aftermath of things, everything is in a state of calm, right? Everything is laid bare, or the storm has passed and while everything might still be fucked and broken, it's also the most quiet time. It's the moment where you take stock of things and get a plan of how to fix everything.

This is that moment.

"We should..." My voice trails off. I don't know how to say it. Do I just blurt it out? Work up to it? Encourage him to make the first move?

"Talk?" Cameron finishes for me. "About where we go from here?"

"Yeah, that." I stand up and sigh. "I'm... it's a lot, and I've just got out of this relationship, and though I'm sitting here telling myself I should react to what happened with her, I don't care. There's this little voice in my head that keeps telling me I was settling because Elliott was gone and I fucked things up with you. Then I remember I fled because I didn't want to fuck things up with you and by trying not to, I did the very thing I didn't want to."

He runs a hand through his hair. Why does he have to do that? It's making me want to kiss him.

"You're rambling," he quips.

"Fuck you."

"Calm down, breathe and just... say it."

I roll my eyes. You can do this, Kenna. "Okay, I realised recently that my subconscious has been denying the truth from me for six years. The reason I didn't want to screw things up back then was because my grief was fresh and with everything that happened, I didn't want to get involved in something that I knew I wanted. I needed time to process it and I guess, in a way, get over it and through it."

Cameron nods. "I get that now."

"But I didn't think about anyone else, and I know that was wrong, so I'm sorry for that. I should've been honest, but I wasn't and I can't change that now. With Courtney, I realise now that I was never really happy; I was settling. It's weird because I don't feel sad about what's happened, I feel happy. I'm hurt she cheated, and with my sister, that cuts deep, mainly from Lily. But I don't feel sad, and part of me thinks it's weird, but I also get it I think. It's because I knew it was never right."

He says nothing, instead, he stands up and faces me. He's a little taller than me, and when he looks into my eyes, my soul comes to life. Something about this moment is slowing like a film, and my heart pounds against my chest.

"It's because deep down, I've been in love with you for a long time. Two moments stick out, and I can't tell which is the moment I fell in love with you. But ever since I can remember, there's always been this feelingabout you. I've loved you forever, been in love with you for six years, and my brain has denied it for so long. I'm not sure why, but I think it could be because of Elliott, life, and well, everything. This had to have been right, and six years ago, I would've fucked it up with what happened."

I did it. Now is going to be the time he tells me I'm a bitch and storms out, right? Life isn't a romance film where they always have a happily ever after. Life has taught me that much in my twenty-five years. There's no knight in shining armour to carry me to the sunset of happiness, or a prince charming to give me true love's kiss.

I always thought he died of suicide.

"Kenna," Cameron whispers my name like it's a secret; a well-guarded, well-loved and important secret that if it gets out, it'll ruin lives and everyone will want it. When he says my name like that, it's like I'm the cure for cancer or the secret to becoming a billionaire. It's suddenly the only thing I want to hear, but only from his lips.

I know what he's going to say, but yet again, my brain is denying me.

"I love you, too. Hell, I've been in love with you for so fucking long." There's a small laugh of relief at the end of his words. 

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·