For as long as she could remember, she’s wished her mom would say all of this, but hearing it now somehow only makes her feel worse. She doesn’t know how to consolidate all these emotions. She doesn’t know how to welcome the good things that will happen when pain is the foundation and has been for over a decade. Camila wishes she could be happy, but right now she’s numb.
But if her mom is trying, so will she.
“It’s in the past now, Mom,” Camila whispers, reaching for her mother’s hand. “What matters now is that you’re trying; that’s all I ever needed.”
“Thank you,” her mother whispers, pulling Camila into a tight hug.
The rest of the hour she spendsat her parents’ house, Camila’s brain and heart are a mix of emotions she doesn’t know how to untangle.
At home, the confusion only worsens, and a bit of anger settles. Anger at her mom for all the pain she caused, only for her to say sorry now and move past it like it didn’t mess with Camila’s self-worth for years. Mainly, she feels angry at herself for not being able to accept the apology and move on.
She spent years going to therapy, trying to accept the fact that her mom might never be a part of her life like this, and now, the one thing she’s always wanted feels so anticlimactic. She wasn’t ever expecting some big apology or emotional conversation; honestly, it got more emotional than she ever thought her mom was capable of, but now it’s all been said, and Camila can’t help but feel it should have been more. More ofwhat, though, she can’t quite decipher.
Camila checks her phone, hoping the two hours until she needs to meet Valeria have magically passed by so she doesn’t have to sit with all this confusion and anger any longer, but the time disappoints her.
She paces the length of her couch a few times before deciding she’ll head over now; two hours isn’ta long time. It’ll take her forty minutes to get there, and she can take a book and order a drink while she waits.
“Great idea,” Camila whispers to herself as she grabs a book from her shelf and heads out the door.
When she gets in her car, Camila throws on her “Gay Girl Sh*t” playlist, hoping Lauren Sanderson, King Princess, and Young Miko will take over her brain space enough that all the confusion she feels will dissolve—if only for a few minutes.
When she makes it to the coffee shop, she realizes their bar won’t be open for another hour and a half. Disappointed, she settles for a chai latte. Once she’s got it in hand, she heads to a table near the big windows overlooking the street and sits there, people watching for a few seconds as the first sip of her drink settles her nerves a touch.
She pulls out the book she brought, realizing she doesn’t knowwhatshe brought, and she’s more than excited to know it’s a romantasy that’s been sitting on her shelf for an embarrassingly long time.
Camila cracks the spine—mentally apologizes to the book gods—and starts on the first chapter, getting lost in the world, only here and there looking up at the front door of the coffee shop, and occasionally peering at her phone to check the time.
Five o’clock comes and goes with no Valeria. By 5:15, Camila worries she has her dates confused. She checks their message thread, and it’s definitely for today. She sets her phone down again and reads another chapter. Around 5:30, Camila texts Valeria and grabs a whiskey. By 5:45, Camila accepts that she’s not coming. She gathers her empty cups and walks toward the front door of the cafe.
“Thank you,” she says, turning to the barista. When sheturns back toward the front door, her chin knocks into something, or rather, someone.
“Fuck,” Camila whispers, grabbing her chin.
“I’m so sorry!” Valeria says, out of breath, reaching for Camila’s arm as she rubs at her forehead.
“Are you okay?” Camila asks the second she realizes it’s Valeria. Because that—apparently—is more important than her own pain.
Valeria takes a big breath. “Yeah. Are you? I ran into you pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry I’m late. I had a complicated last appointment today, and I couldn’t pass it off to another vet. I’m so, so, so sorry for keeping you waiting. I would have called you, but my phone died.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re okay,” Camila replies. “I caught up on some reading, so you’re all good.”
“Are you sure? You’re not mad?”
“Not even a little. Come on, let’s go find a seat.”
Valeria looks down, her fingers sliding repeatedly along the strap of her purse. Her voice softens to almost a whisper. “You are too nice.”
Thankfully, the table Camila was at earlier is still available.
Valeria tosses her phone onto the table. “I swear I charged it last night.” She runs her hands through her hair. “I’m usually a lot better at communicating. I’m sorry.”
Camila holds back a chuckle, slightly amused at how bad Valeria feels. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
“I don’t know, for having to stay at work a little later and for being late because of it.”
