“I’m so sorry it ended this way,” Ella says as she walks Camila to the door. “I promise they’re not always like this. I hope you’ll join us next month.”
Camila nods, not wanting to commit. She has no idea what’s going on, and she’s not the type to make empty promises.
On her way home, she can’t help but wonder how Valeria is doing. That woman—Brooke, she learned from Ella—looked beyond pissed. Camila wants to text Valeria, but she stops herself, worried she’ll make things worse. She’s been in her fair share of toxic relationships, and unfortunately, with this tiny glimpse, Camila can tell Valeria is in one.
Memories of her own toxic relationship with Eileen make acid turn in Camila’s stomach. The thought of someone as sweet as Valeria having to deal with even a fraction of what she did feels unfair.
When Camila makes it home, she plops onto the living room couch, and Miso follows after her, lying on her chest. Camila tries to push her concern for Valeria aside, but the urge to check in is too strong, and the need to let her know she’s not alone is stronger, so she texts her, hoping she hasn’t made everything worse for her.
CHAPTER SIX
VALERIA
“Brooke?” Valeria asks, breathless—caught somewhere between excitement and disbelief. She almost doesn’t trust her eyes.
“Valeria,” Brooke says tightly, but she isn’t looking at her. Her gaze is fixed on Camila, sharp and dangerous, ready to pounce.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Camila says something, but Valeria doesn’t quite catch it. There is a thin, shrill ringing in her ears, similar to feedback from a bad speaker, and it drowns out everything except the sudden weight in her chest.
Valeria’s attention snaps to Brooke. That look—cold, sharp, and edged with hurt—makes her stomach tighten. She knows that stare well, knows how Brooke’s mind works. She can tell Brooke is filling in blanks with worst-case versions of the truth. Brooke thinks this is a date, or something dangerously close to one. She thinks Valeria has crossed a line that Valeria promised she wouldn’t.
A rush of panic flares. Valeria wants to explain, to rewind the moment, to reach into Brooke’s head and correctthe thought before it hardens into something unfixable. She parts her lips, then pauses as Brooke turns, her eyes locking on Valeria’s for a brief, burning second, and Valeria knows. She knows Brooke is going to disappear on her again, and she doesn’t think she can handle that. She can’t let that happen.
“Fuck,” Valeria whispers. “I’m so sorry,” she manages to say to Camila before she runs after Brooke.
“Brooke, wait!” Valeria calls out, but Brooke doesn’t slow down. Her pace only quickens.
Valeria goes out through the backyard fence, the wood scraping her arm as it swings open. She cuts across the front yard at an angle, trying to outpace Brooke instead of following her. Brooke went through the house. That means the front walk, the gate, and then the street.
“Brooke, please!” Valeria says the moment Brooke appears at the front door. Valeria walks toward her, trying to block her way, but Brooke pushes past her.
Valeria stops short, feet rooted to the pavement. For a heartbeat, she does nothing, caught between instinct and fear. Maybe she should let Brooke go; chasing her will only make things worse. Brooke needs space when she’s like this. Valeria knows that, but she can’t help but think of the last time she let Brooke walk out this angry, how she didn’t hear from her for a year.
Her chest tightens, and the streetlights ahead smear into long halos as tears well and spill over. Valeria draws in a breath that stutters on the way out, then another, uneven and desperate.No. Not again, she thinks as she breaks into a jog, breath coming in sharp bursts as she chases Brooke, heart pounding. Letting her leave is the one mistake she refuses to repeat.
“Brooke!” Valeria shouts.
Brooke stops halfway down the block and turns, arms crossed, jaw set, but her eyes are glossy. “What do you want to say, Valeria?” Her voice cracks.
Valeria swallows past the lump in her throat, trying to catch her breath. “It’s not what you think.”
Brooke lets out a short, humorless laugh.
Valeria takes a step closer. “Brooke, please. She’s a friend. She—she just moved here. She’s only looking to make friends.”
“I don’t care who she is,” Brooke snaps. Valeria knows her too well to believe that; she sees it in the tightness around Brooke’s mouth. Brooke cares. Of course she does. Beneath the anger, there’s the slightest flash of relief, so brief it almost disappears the moment it’s there. Valeria clings to that.
She takes a cautious step forward, then another, testing the space between them. Brooke doesn’t back away, and that feels like a victory. She’s closer now than she’s been in weeks, and as silly as it may be, relief floods through Valeria.
Brooke exhales, her shoulders sinking slightly. “I just need ... space.”
“No.” The word rips out of Valeria.
Brooke blinks, startled. She probably didn’t expect Valeria to fight back.
“You’ve had all the space you could ask for these past few weeks.” Valeria’s voice cracks. “You need to talk to me ... please.”
