“Then why would I? I trust you understand your feelings better than I do, and if you feel ready, who am I to try and convince you otherwise?”
Valeria squeezes Camila’s hand before lifting it and pressing Camila’s knuckles gently against her cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers. “I’m so used to being told how to feel ... that I start expecting everyone to do the same.” Her thumb brushes over Camila’s fingers. “I should have known you wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Her breath hitches, a slight tremor running through her body.
Camila doesn’t pull her hand away. She lets Valeria hold it there, against her.
“I would never,” Camila confirms before biting her lip.
“So it doesn’t bother you that I haven’t been single for long? You don’t think I’m moving on too fast?”
Camila shakes her head. “No.”
Maybe it’s naive, but Camila isn’t worried. She’s never believed that people need to be single for some prescribed length of time before they’re “allowed” to try again or that they have to be perfectly healed before they deserve something new. Life doesn’t work that way. Healing isn’t a finish line you cross, and suddenly you’re worthy. Healing is messy, ongoing, and deeply human. As long as Valeria isn’t inflicting that same pain on her, Camila wants to try, which brings her to the one thing that does concern her in all of this.
“My only worry is that I don’t know in what capacityyou want this in. Are you testing the waters, wanting to try it with me because you think I’m safe? Or because you genuinely think there’s something between us you want to explore?”
“You do feel safe,” Valeria says, and Camila’s stomach bottoms out. “But that’s notwhyI want this. I want this because when you smile at me, there’s a flutter in my stomach that I haven’t felt in years, and sometimes, when you look at me, I blush, for no other reason than your attention on me makes me nervous. When you hold my hand, like you are right now”—Valeria squeezes Camila’s hand a little tighter—“I feel calm and safe, and I crave more of it. All the little pieces I learn about you each day make me want to learn more, learn it all until I know you as well as I know myself.”
If Camila were standing, she’s pretty sure her legs would give out. Everything feels loose and shaky, as if her body has forgotten how to hold itself together. A smile keeps pulling at her mouth, and she lets it happen. She’s not used to this. No one has ever looked at her or spoken to her like this. Her heart pounds so hard she’s sure Valeria must see the way it presses against her chest.
“Wow, so youreallylike me,” Camila jokes, because she doesn’t know what to do with all the emotions threatening to explode out of her.
Valeria’s laughter is warm. “Just a little,” she says, winking, but her eyes stay soft.
Camila straightens out. “I want this,” she says, meeting Valeria’s eyes.
“Yeah?” Valeria asks, a little nervous laugh in it.
“Yeah,” Camila repeats, a little breathless.
Valeria’s shoulders relax. “We would have togo slow.”
“We can go at whatever pace you need,” Camila assures her. She can handle the slow pace, letting Valeria lead, accepting the hesitations, the awkward unlearning of wounds. Camila wants to build something gentle with her.
“And if you ever change your mind, you need to tell me.”
“I like you,” Camila says. Saying it out loud sends a warm rush through her chest, loosening something that had been tight for weeks. Relief floods in so suddenly she almost laughs. “I like you in a slow way. In a careful way,” she adds, her voice softer now as her thumb traces a gentle line over Valeria’s knuckles. “I promise I’ll always let you know where I stand. I won’t make you guess.” She brings Valeria’s hand to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles, softer than before. “Just promise me the same,” Camila murmurs.
“Of course,” Valeria replies, her fingers tightening gently around Camila’s.
A hushed “yes” rings out from outside their tent, followed by the sound of someone shushing someone else.
Valeria freezes. Then she lets out a slow breath. “You havegotto be joking,” she whispers. She carefully leans to the side, pressing her palm flat against the canvas before giving it a quick shake.
Four muffled screams burst out in a jumble, followed by frantic shuffling, someone tripping over something, followed by laughter spilling everywhere.
“You are all unbelievable,” Valeria says, with a bright smile on her face. “Can’t a girl get, like, five minutes of privacy?”
Another round of laughter answers her from outside the tent. “We have no idea what you’re talking about,” Clara says as they all snicker and walk away.
Valeria shakes her head. “I’m sorry about them,” she laughs.
“I think they’re wonderful, honestly.”
“Yeah, they’re alright.” Valeria settles back into her cot, closer still to Camila, and Camila’s pulse spikes, every inch of her suddenly aware of how close they are.
“What now?” Valeria asks, shifting her weight on the cots mattress.
A little awkwardness settles between them. Not the bad kind, just that middle ground where they both know they’ve stepped into something new, but neither is sure what to do next.
