Valeria’s lip trembles. “I know,” she says quickly, nodding. “I do. It’s just ... everything was always my fault with Brooke. Each argument. Every bad day. I think at one point I accepted that this was too, that her hurting me was because I pushed her too far.”
Camila’s eyes soften, and she cups Valeria’s cheek with aching gentleness. “I can’t imagine what that did to you. Carrying that around.”
Valeria nods, swallowing hard before she slowly leans into Camila’s touch. There’s a tenderness in it she hasn’t felt in years. “It’s something I’ll need to unlearn.”
Camila reaches for the bottle, pours them another shot of bourbon, and slides it across the table. “Then here’s to unlearning,” she says.
Valeria lifts the glass, her fingers steadier this time. They clink their glasses, and the bourbon burns all the way down Valeria’s throat, setting a tiny fire in her stomach.
“Wow, that’s strong. I probably should have had something other than a protein shake before drinking all this.”
“Here,” Camila says, passing Valeria a remote. “Put something on; I’ll make us food.”
Valeria takes the remote. As Camila turns, Valeria reaches for her hand, almost without thinking, her fingers closing softly around Camila’s. Camila slows, then stills, her gaze dropping to where Valeria is holding her.
“Thank you,” Valeria murmurs, before her shoulders slump and the corners of her mouth dip slightly.
“Anytime.” Camila gently squeezes Valeria’s hand. The reassurance in the simple contact fills Valeria with such calm that she thinks it should be impossible for anyone to feel so steady.
When Valeria lets go, Camila disappears into the kitchen, and Valeria tries to find something for them to watch. Based on Camila’s recently watched movies, Valeria can tell she loves thrillers. So she quickly searches for the top thrillers and makes a list. When she’s happy with the shows she’s picked, Valeria lies on the couch, watching as the first drops of rain streak down Camila’s bay windows.
The oven beeps—a sharp little chime in the quiet—and it startles Valeria awake. She doesn’t know when she fell asleep, but it was long enough that Camila laid a blanket over her.
She pulls the blanket off her body and drifts into the kitchen, rubbing sleepfrom her eyes.
The second she walks into the kitchen, Camila pulls a tray from the oven and sets it over a cooling rack.
“Hey,” Valeria murmurs.
“Hey, sleepy,” Camila says with a gentle smile.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep. I’m a lot more tired than I realized,” Valeria says through a yawn.
Camila’s head turns to the side, and she purses her lips. “You apologize for the silliest things, you know that?” she says with a sideways smile.
Valeria gives her a small, almost embarrassed smile in response. “Yeah ... it’s a habit. With Brooke, I was always apologizing. Half the time, I didn’t even know what for. Mostly just doing it to avoid an argument.”
“That sounds exhausting. You don’t have to do that here,” Camila says quietly. “Not with me.”
“I know. It’s just ... hard to shut it off.”
Camila frowns, a furrow forming between her brows as her jaw tightens. Valeria can tell she’s looking for the right words.
“Those smell amazing.” Valeria gestures toward the tray, trying to get the attention off herself and move the conversation anywhere else.
Camila nudges the tray toward her. “Help yourself. They’re still warm.”
Valeria grabs one, almost relieved to have something else to focus on. “God, these look perfect,” she says, turning it over in her hand. “What is it?”
“Pão de queijo,” Camila says.
Valeria’s eyes linger on the food, “Is it bread? I don’t think I can have these ... I have a gluten allergy,” she says, disappointment soft in her voice.
“It’s a cheesy bread made with cassava flour, which is gluten-free, but noted. I shouldhave asked.”
Valeria brightens. “That sounds delicious. I don’t think I’ve ever had them.”
“They’re my favorite,” Camila admits. “Though I haven’t tried this place yet, so if they’re not a good representation, I’ll just have to make you some.”
