“Hi,” Valeria replies, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I’m all done.”
“That was fast. You okay?” Camila asks, her voice so tender that Valeria can picture the softness in her face.
“Yeah. It was sad, but I feel much better.”
“Do you want to talk about it? What do you need, sweet girl?”
Valeria smiles. “Just you. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, drive safe, please. I love you.”
“I love you,” Valeria replies, a small smile kissing her lips before hanging up.
“Wow. I guess this is done ... for real, isn’t it?” Brooke’s voice says from somewhere behind Valeria. She freezes for a second before turning. Ready to come face-to-face with Brooke’s anger one last time, but it’s not there. All that flashes over her features is a deep sadness. “I’ve lost you,” she says, chin trembling.
Valeria’s throat constricts, and the only thing she can do is nod.
Brooke’s shoulders drop. “Even with how poorly I treated you sometimes, I hope you know I’ve loved you intensely.”
“I know,” Valeria says softly.
Despite all of Brooke’s toxicity, Valeria still believes there was real love buried somewhere beneath all of Brooke’s trauma—even on the days when she couldn’t feel it at all. Valeria held on to that belief like a fragile thread for years. It was what made it so hard for her to let go, because she knew Brooke loved her deeply. She was so worried no one would ever love her as much as Brooke did that she never stopped to think that the way Brooke loved her was all wrong.
Now, with Camila, Valeria sees it clearly.
There’s no guessing. No overthinking the tone of a text, no searching between the lines for reassurance, no convincing herself that absence means something other than absence. The love she feels now is steady and visible, woven into the everyday moments: the consistency, the gentleness, the way she is chosen without having to beg for it.
With Camila, Valeria doesn’t have to believe out of desperation. She doesn’t have to hope love exists somewhere beneath the surface.
She just knows.
And with that sureness in every ounce of her being, Valeria walks to her car with steady steps, shoulders relaxed, head held high, not once glancing back at Brooke, and drives off in the direction of the woman she loves, the safety of her.
When Valeria makes it home, Camila is on the porch with Miso, a gentle smile on her face as Valeria steps out of the car.
Camila’s arms swallow Valeria in a firm hug. Valeria holds on to her tightly as a wave of emotions crashes over her—sadness over her life with Brooke, the residual anger for all the pain she caused, relief to have it be over, excitement for her future with Camila, but mostly, through the ocean of feelings, there’s love. So much love for the woman holding her, for the woman who has given her only safety and acceptance.
There’s a certainty about them that makes Valeria feel overwhelmed in the best way. It’s as vibrant and boundless as the love that binds them.
CHAPTER THIRTY
CAMILA
Going back to Valeria’s apartment feels surreal, and helping her pack her clothes even more so. Valeria is officially moving the majority of her things into Camila’s house today, and Camila is practically vibrating with excitement.
Today is the start of their life together, forming a home, a family, the two of them and Miso. Absolutely nothing could rob her of that happiness.
Three hours, six exceptionally stuffed bags, and several trips to the dumpster later, she and Valeria are ready to go.
“All set?” Camila asks softly, her thumb tracing idle circles along Valeria’s wrist as Valeria takes her mostly empty apartment in.
Valeria bites her lip before swinging her arms over Camila’s shoulder. “I’m ready for absolutely anything as long as it’s with you,” she murmurs. “Take me home.” She leans in, pressing a deep kiss to Camila’s lips.
Home.Theirhome. Camila could cry at the thought, out of pure happiness. When they make it back, the feelingonly intensifies as Valeria hangs her clothes in the primary closet, all her colorful dresses, shirts, and skirts contrasting with all of Camila’s blacks, grays, and navies.
Valeria places a few of her books on the living room shelves before moving around, placing the forty potted plants she insisted on keeping—even though the house is already overflowing—wherever they fit—placing the toxic ones high up and away from Miso.
Somehow, every single one of her plants miraculously survived nearly a month without watering, with only about half needing a light pruning of their dried leaves. This has ended up with Valeria making a mess in the kitchen, plants and dirt everywhere, but Camila can’t seem to care. Too happy seeing small touches of Valeria everywhere. Even with the small things Valeria has added, the house feels warmer and looks homier.
