The impulse to say “fuck it” and send it all down the garbage chute is strong, but as much as she wants to, she can’t. There’s a tiny Brooke-sounding voice in her head telling her to save it, in case she comes back. She urges the voice to shut up, to go away, but it pays her no mind. For now, the best she can do is shove the bags into the coat closet near her front door—where she tosses everything she can’t find a home for.
When she’s done, she finds Camila on the couch, scrolling through her phone. Valeria drops down beside her.
“How are you feeling?” Camila asks, pocketing her phone and turning toward Valeria.
“Alright,” Valeria says, though it drags out of her; she’s both physically and emotionally spent, but not in the way she expected. “I think coming here seemed much scarier in my head. Being here now is like every other time I’ve been here after Brooke and I split. I thought it would hit harderthis time, but maybe I’ve built a callus. Maybe I’ve gone through it enough times that my heart doesn’t know how to panic anymore.”
Camila nods, her face softening. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “But I’m glad it feels doable. Maybe part of you felt it coming. Or was at least preparing for it to happen.”
“Yeah, maybe. There was a wall between Brooke and me lately. Somehow, it’s like the breakup happened much longer than a month ago, as if more time has passed than the calendar allows.”
“Just because someone stays doesn’t mean the love does. Sometimes, the ease of what you know can trick you into thinking it’s love, and you keep going back out of habit, not because your heart is still in it.”
Valeria considers her. It makes sense. She had been pulling away for a while now—less attached, less consumed by thoughts of her future with Brooke.
“You’re probably right. Still, thanks for coming, and for letting me crash at your house. Now that I’m home, I feel almost silly for running from it for so long.”
“You don’t know what you don’t know. Maybe it feels easier because of the time you took to prepare yourself for this moment.”
Valeria nods.
“Do you think you’ll be okay to stay here tonight, or do you want to come back? Do you want me to stay?”
Valeria smiles. “I think I’ll be okay. Thank you.”
“What about your car?”
Valeria was so panicked about having to go back to her apartment that she’d completely forgotten her car was at Camila’s.
“I’ll have one of the girls drive me over tomorrow morning.”
Camila nods, and Valeria smiles. Camila returns it, though it doesn’t reach her eyes, and the dimples that are usually so prominent on her cheeks are missing.
She wraps an arm around Valeria’s shoulders, pulling her in gently. “Miso and I are going to miss you,” she says softly. “If you ever need to get away for a bit, you know my couch is always yours.”
A warm pressure builds in Valeria’s chest. “I appreciate you,” she says, turning to hug Camila fully.
When Camila leaves, Valeria immediately misses her.
Her apartment is cooler without her in it, as if she took a layer of warmth with her when she walked out the door. To Valeria’s surprise, the hardest thing she’s doing today isn’t coming home to face her life without Brooke, but keeping herself from going after Camila and seeking the calm and ease she’s found in her lately.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CAMILA
When Camila gets home, everything is too quiet. It’s not a peaceful quiet either, but the kind that, if she pays too much attention to, will make the walls feel like they’re boxing her in.
It hits her then, how quickly she’d gotten used to Valeria being around over the last few weeks. She knew she was going to miss their nightly rituals, but she hadn’t realized just how much.
Valeria reminded Camila how much shelovescoming home to someone, cooking for two instead of one, and hearing about someone else’s day—though she suspects she’d enjoy hearing just about anything Valeria has to say. One night, Valeria went on a thirty-minute spiel about a charcoal induction she’d had to do that day and the mess it had made in the back room. Probably not the most appropriate dinner talk, but frankly, Camila didn’t care; she enjoyed seeing Valeria tell her story, animated, hand flying everywhere.
More than anything, though, Valeria highlighted how much she’s pulled back from dating. Camila had nevergiven it much thought, sort of just chalked it up to enjoying her newfound freedom, but Valeria made her realize she’d been running from it. Afraid of stumbling into someone like Eileen again.
Camila glances at the couch and sees the blankets Valeria had been using folded neatly. She sits beside them, as if the proximity to something she touched will make everything feel less empty, a tiny reminder that she was here.
She knows she shouldn’t; her feelings for Valeria are already so complicated, but she can’t keep herself from taking the top blanket and wrapping herself in it, letting Valeria’s scent take over her senses. The smell of Valeria’s soft floral perfume fills the air, washing over Camila, and a quiet joy settles in her chest.
Night rolls over her unexpectedly. She wakes up wrapped in the same blankets Valeria used. No clue when she knocked out. She didn’t mean to fall asleep on the couch, but enveloped in Valeria’s scent, how could she not?
