A sharp pain goes through my shin after Ethan kicks me under the island.
The groan I let out doesn’t seem to reach my parents. “The fuck was that for?”
“For being an idiot,” he sasses. “After everything that went down, I thought you would’ve learned that secrets neverstaysecret.”
Ethan’s annoyingly always right. Despite that, my parents don’t need to know about this any time soon. Not until her and I are officially together. My mind drifts to thoughts of Kamila and our kiss. I hope that the final card I sent her way didn’t scare her off, but she confused the fuck out of me. My pondering is interrupted by our loud doorbell. Mom and Dad seem to have missed the sound, still nuzzled against each other.
“Is anyone getting the door?” I ask while picking up a tube of icing.
“You get it,” Dad mutters, his gaze not faltering from Mom’s.
My eyes drop to see the elf apron I wear every year and the one I also stash deep into the closet after the holidays are over. The only reason I wear it is to make Mom happy. Decorating cookies on Christmas Eve while we all wear ridiculous aprons has been a staple in this household since I was four years old.
“I look ridiculous and dirty.”
“Such a drama queen.” Ethan sighs. “I’ll get it.” The kitchendoor swings open after he walks through it towards the foyer wearing his candy cane apron.
“Cam, pass me a tree, will you?” Mom sticks her hand out.
As soon as the cookie is in her palm, Ethan’s back at the kitchen door. He’s avoiding my parent’s eyes and keeps an eerie fake smile plastered on his face.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Dad asks. “Who’s at the door?”
Ethan laughs nervously. “Nothing’s the matter, just someone asking for Cameron. A friend of his, actually. They need to talk to you privately.” He motions his head to the front door.
I lift my brows at his intense stare that’s silently telling me to hurry the fuck up.
“We’ll be right back.” Mom and Dad exchange looks while I leave their line of sight.
Once the kitchen door swings closed, Ethan speaks up. “It’s Kamila.”
I halt at his words. Anticipation and fear flows through me as to why she would be here. It only takes me a couple of seconds to come up with the most obvious reason.
“Fucking Ana.”
“Has to be,” my cousin agrees.
Ethan follows close behind while I make it the foyer. There, standing in a matching Christmas pajama set with reindeer slippers, a large winter coat, messy hair, and no makeup on, is the woman who’s been driving me to the brink of insanity for months. She still hasn’t noticed my presence, and I take the time to appreciate watching her with Milo tucked into her arms after all these years. Kami’s eyes are closed while Milo nuzzles his face into her neck as she smiles peacefully. My cat is only comfortable around family, meaning he hasn’t forgotten about her, just like I never did. I almost don’t want to interrupt their moment together.
Almost.
“Kamila?” I say quietly, as though I’m speaking to a wounded animal.
She slowly opens her eyes and looks into mine. They’re red rimmed and slightly swollen. She’s been crying a lot, and a barbaric feeling of wanting to hurt the person that caused her this pain takes over me.
“I had nowhere else to go,” she whispers.
I speak at a low volume while trying to control the anger and hurt building in my chest. “Ethan, please distract my parents for a while. We need a minute alone.”
“Will do.”
As soon as the kitchen door swings closed again, Kamila lets out a small sob, squeezing Milo softly.
Fuck that sound is the final straw in keeping my composure. It takes me four strides to reach my girl. I gently lay Milo on the floor while she talks.
“I didn’t know where else to go. My mom and Ana,” more tears and sobs escape, “I couldn’t do it anymore.”
Gripping her shoulders, I pull her into my chest as she wraps her arms around me tightly.
