“Never that,” Camila says gently, suddenly bright, as if the thought escaped her before she could filter it. Her eyes widen, and she straightens her back. “I mean, I’ve enjoyed having you over. I’m not used to living by myself in such a large space, so it’s been nice having someone here when I get home. You’re so—” She fluttersa hand, searching for the right thread. “Ignore me. I’m babbling.”
In three quick steps, Valeria wraps her arms around Camila. “Thank you,” she whispers.
Camila tenses for a fraction, but then relaxes into the embrace, wrapping her arms tightly around Valeria. Camila adjusts her head slightly so her cheek rests against the crown of Valeria’s head, and something in Valeria’s chest shifts. They’ve only hugged once before, and Valeria would have thought it would feel awkward or unfamiliar, but it doesn’t. It feels ... right.
“You’ve done so much for me, and I don’t know how to thank you,” Valeria says.
Camila’s arms tighten slightly. “You don’t have to thank me, Val,” she says in the most reassuring voice Valeria has ever heard.
She swallows, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes—not from sadness exactly, but from the overwhelming gentleness of it all. From the ache in her chest and the frightening, undeniable need to hold on to her.
Not wanting to cry, she says, “We should probably go now. Before I lose my nerve.”
Camila steps back from the embrace, and Valeria immediately misses her warmth. The loss of connection leaves her feeling empty. It’s wild to her how safe she feels around her, similar to how she feels around the girls, people she’s known since she was a preteen, and in just a few months, Camila has become just as important to her.
“Yeah, I agree.”
“Let me look for my house keys. I can meet you in the car?” Valeria knows where they are, but she needs another second to compose herself—to gently untangle from the comfort of Camila’s home and brace for what she’s sure willbe a mess of emotions waiting on the other side of her apartment door.
“Of course!” Camila smiles before she turns and walks out the door.
Valeria follows after her, standing by the front door, and lets out a sigh as she looks at the blankets that are now folded up on the couch.
She’s going to miss being here. It’s so relaxing in this house. The waves just outside the living room windows have lulled her to sleep for weeks now, and she’ll miss that. She’ll also miss the smell of coffee in the mornings, and the way Camila would look up and smile when Valeria shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep. Mostly, she’s just going to miss Camila. It kind of surprises her how at home she’s felt here with her.
Valeria gives Miso one final cuddle and walks out the door, not allowing herself to think about how much she’ll miss Miso pawing her in the middle of the night to get inside her blankets. That would be enough to make Valeria move her things into one of Camila’s spare bedrooms.
They don’t talk on the drive to her apartment. Valeria’s too on edge to put a sentence together, and somehow Camila senses that. She plays her favorite classical music playlist, and Valeria anchors herself in the melody, trying not to spiral. Reminding herself that she can do this, that she alreadyhas, so many times before.
When they pull into Valeria’s apartment building, her heart tightens into a painful knot as she stares at the window of her apartment.
“Do you want me to go with you or wait here?” Camila asks.
“Will you come with me?” It comes out softer than she intends, fragile around the edges.
Camila’s expression softens immediately. “Of course.”
They walk in silence up to Valeria’s door. When they reach it, Valeria stares at the lock for a few long seconds, the key cold in her hand.
Camila’s fingers lace into Valeria’s, and the touch steadies her. A pleasant tingling sensation spreads from the point of contact up her arm and across her chest. With each breath, a steadiness washes over her, as if Camila were a soothing balm for her nerves.
When calmness takes over, Valeria turns the key and pushes the door open.
As soon as they step inside, Valeria is reminded of her last morning with Brooke. Brooke’s things are scattered everywhere she looks, and her heart clenches into a fist. Brooke’s favorite green sweater is still draped over the back of the couch. A half-read novel sits face down on the coffee table beside a pair of Brooke’s glasses. Valeria’s hand slips out of Camila’s as she walks up to the couch, where the throw blanket Brooke always stole from her lies crumpled in a corner. When she lifts it, the faint echo of her cologne rises to meet her, and her throat closes around a storm of tears.
Valeria hates that her apartment feels like it’s theirs and that the feeling now is the same sick punch she felt the day she walked into the home they shared, expecting normalcy, and found only absence. All of Brooke’s things, gone. Just the shape of her, missing. Valeria feels that same hollow ache, but it isn’t nearly as consuming.
“Do you need anything?” Camila asks almost in a whisper.
Valeria turns to look at her and shakes her head. “I just need to clear her things. Make the space feel mine again.”
“Thisisyour space. No matter what happened or thememories you guys shared here. She doesn’t get to taint your safe place. Take this as a fresh start, a chance to rebuild, to redefine what this place means to you, and you alone.”
“How do you always know the right thing to say?” Valeria asks in awe.
The corners of Camila’s mouth tilt upwards. “Tons of therapy. You pick up a thing or two.” She shrugs.
Valeria laughs, but with Camila’s words about reclaiming her space swirling in her head, she walks into the kitchen and grabs a couple of garbage bags. Room by room, she works in silence, almost detached, grabbing everything Brooke left behind, along with anything that reminds Valeria of her. And surprisingly, it’s not as gut-wrenching as she anticipated. By the time she finishes, there are two twenty-gallon bags at her feet, lined up neatly by the front door.
