CHAPTER SEVEN
CAMILA
Since Camila got home—about three hours ago now—she has been lying on her couch, staring at the ceiling, thinking and worrying over Valeria, playing out what could be going on between her and Brooke, and making plans on how to best be there for her, but it’s hard when she has no idea what’s going on. Based on the little the girls told her, she knows she wants to make a little care package for her, nothing big, just a small basket with chocolates and face masks. Things Camila liked having herself when she felt she was spiraling, during her hard moments with Eileen.
Camila’s in the middle of picking out items for a care package on her laptop when a ping from her phone echoes through the quiet house, startling her.
Valeria 11:07 p.m.:
I’m so sorry to have left.
Camila stares at the message, trying to figure out what to say, when a secondone pops up.
Valeria 11:07 p.m.:
Can we meet up tomorrow? I really want to explain myself.
Camila 11:08 p.m.:
You don’t have to.
Valeria 11:08 p.m.:
No, I do.
Camila 11:08 p.m.:
Tomorrow after work?
Valeria 11:09 p.m.:
That works. What’s your address?
Camila 11:09 p.m.:
Started Sharing Location
Valeria 11:09 p.m.:
I’ll text you when I’m headed over. Good night, and I’m sorry again.
Camila runs a hand through her hair. She doesn’t want Valeria to feel bad. Based on the little the girls shared during dinner, Valeria is in a complicated relationship. She remembers doing the same thing whenever she and Eileen were going through an off period and she showed up in her life again. Camila would abandon everything to be near her. She understands the pull Valeria and Brooke have, but that doesn’t make falling asleep or worrying over what Valeria might say tomorrow any easier.
Camila’s work day comes and goes, and now she’s back home waiting for Valeria. Camila glances around her house. It’s not spotless, but it’s far from chaos. She spends most of her days at the studio, and her mornings at home are too short for clutter to gather. By the time she drags herself home from work, she barely has the strength to kick off her shoes, let alone make a mess. Still, she wanders through the house, tidying up wherever possible—more to keep herself busy than anything else.
Before she knows it, there’s a soft knock at her door and a message from Valeria letting her know she’s here.
Camila takes a deep breath, trying to steady her pulse, emotionally preparing herself for whatever state Valeria is in. When her breath evens out, she quickly moves to the door and pulls it open. Valeria’s on the other side, and she looks the same as always in her scrubs; her shoulder-length blond hair is up in a messy bun. Nothing looks concerning, but Camila’s experience with Eileen triggers her to do a quick scan of Valeria. On impulse, she glances down her frame, looking for any bruising. There’s nothing, at least nothing she can see, and that eases the tension in her chest.
“Hey,” Camila says. “Come in.”
Valeria gives her a small smile and steps inside, taking her shoes off by the front door. “Thanks for letting me come over,” she says as Camila guides her toward the living room.
Camila’s brows furrow slightly, and she gives Valeria a confused smile. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Valeria gives her a small, brittle smile in return as both women sink onto the couch. “I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for last night. I’m so sorry I left without a word. That was”—she exhales shakily—“so rude of me.”
“All is forgiven,” Camila says with a soft grin.
