Chapter 13
Camila
It’s early, sun brimming on the horizon.
I tiptoe to the front door, trying to leave for work without disturbing Hess.
I could say it’s because I don’t want to wake him.
I mean, that’s part of it, but also, I don’t want him to know how early I’m going to work.
There’s already been some judgmental looks from his side the past three weeks when I got home late at night.
But Hess is partly to blame for my crazy work hours. The ridiculous commute from his house forces me to leave and return when traffic isn’t as heavy. So maybe I should be louder in the mornings. Maybe he deserves to be woken up.
Just as I get to the front door and step onto the porch, Harvey, the dog I want nothing to do with, barrels after me, tongue lolling, eyes bright. He jumps up on me, paws smacking against my clean skirt.
“Ugh, Harvey!” I grimace, stumbling back.
His fur brushes my hands, and I flinch, holding my palms in the air to minimize the touching.
“No. Down.” My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but I don’t care.
Dogs are not my thing. And this dog has been following me to the door every morning for the last three weeks as if we’re friends, and it’s getting old.
He tilts his head, confused, before lowering himself to the ground, tail wagging slower now. When I turn away, his whole body seems to sag. The sight of him standing there, ears drooping like I’ve just broken his heart, stops me mid-step.
I sigh, rolling my eyes at myself, and turn back. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
The second I move toward him, he perks up, tail thumping wildly against the porch.
I crouch a little, holding my bag close so he doesn’t slobber all over it.
“Since we’re living together, and you don’t seem to be getting the hint, we need some ground rules.
” My tone is firm, businesslike, the same way I’d negotiate a contract.
His ears twitch. He listens.
“Rule one: no jumping on me. Not on my nice work clothes. Not on my ugliest sweats. Never. Okay?”
His tail keeps going, unbothered.
“Rule two.” I straighten, pointing a finger at him like he’s an associate in training.
“No lying on my bed. Ever.” I learned quickly the last few weeks not to leave my bedroom door open, or Harvey will plant himself on my mattress.
“I know it used to be Hess’s bed, but there’s a new sheriff in town, and I’m not living like that. ”
Harvey blinks up at me, still grinning that ridiculous dog grin.
I give him a quick pat, more a bop on the head than anything, and turn toward my car, calling behind me, “Don’t open the door to strangers!
I’ll be home really late tonight. I’ve got dinner with my friends.
” I swing my car door open and glance back at him.
Harvey sits tall, tail sweeping the porch as if he’s just been promoted. “Don’t wait up!”
Tonight is our monthly friend dinner at Oregano’s. We’ve been doing this since we graduated high school—probably a big reason why our friendships have lasted over the years.
We go around the table, each giving an update on our lives over the past month. It’s Juliet’s turn.
“I have some news to tell you all that might not come as a surprise, but—”
“You and Vinny called off your engagement?” Blair finishes.
Juliet’s dark brows that contrast her light-blonde hair lower in disgust. “Why wouldn’t us breaking off our engagement come as a surprise?”
Blair glances around the table, recognizing her mistake. “No, it would. You just seemed so serious, so that was the first place my mind went. Sorry.”
Nice recovery.
“Of course we’re still engaged. I was just letting you all know”—Juliet turns to Emma with a smile—“that I’ve asked Emma to be my maid of honor.
I don’t want the three of you to feel bad, but Emma and I grew up next door to each other, so our bond is a little tighter.
But obviously, the rest of you will be bridesmaids. ”
I peek at Emma.
Being the maid of honor at a wedding where you’re in love with the groom is rough, but there she sits with a sweet smile on her face.
Props to her. I couldn’t do it.
“Yeah.” Carly is the first to speak. She takes a quick glance at Emma, checking up on her, then replies. “Emma definitely deserves to be the maid of honor. You shouldn’t have it any other way.”
“When’s the wedding?” I ask.
Juliet flattens her gaze. “Why? Are you going to tell me I’m making a mistake by marrying Vinny?”
“No.”
There are only two marriages I’m concerned about: Selena’s and my own.
“Good,” Juliet huffs, “because I can’t handle your cynicism right now.”
Carly smiles at me. “Camila’s cynicism is what we love about her.”
“Thank you.”
“Not me.” Juliet straightens. “All your negativity about marriage gets old.”
Emma comes to my rescue. “Juliet, that’s easy for you to say. You didn’t grow up under the same circumstances Camila did.”
“So your mom got married and divorced a few times. I don’t think that’s enough to make you as jaded as you are.”
It wasn’t just that my mom got married and divorced a few times.
It was the fact that, over and over again, I watched her trust men who ultimately let her down—starting with my dad and going down the line.
Each time she thought that, because they’d made vows and entered into a binding commitment, things would end happily, but they never did.
I saw the tears. I watched the heartache.
And I decided I didn’t want that naive belief in marriage to lead me to a place where I’m sobbing on the bathroom floor because a man who said he’d grow old with me left.
It’s not worth it.
Juliet can’t relate to that kind of pain because Juliet grew up with both parents still married.
She’s not haunted by men who’ve come in and out of her life.
People easily dismiss what they don’t understand. They dismiss me as cynical and jaded without trying to understand why I’m this way. And obviously, it doesn’t help that I deal with divorces for a living. It all compounds and makes me who I am.
You either love me or hate me for it.
Today, Juliet is not a fan.
I smile back at her, not wanting to get into the weeds about why I am the way I am. “Maybe I am too jaded, but the good news is, I’m not your maid of honor, so you won't have to hear about all my opinions on marriage. You made a good choice with Emma.”
“Speaking of Emma,” Carly says, trying to change the subject, “what’s the latest on your love life?”
Her shoulders lift, brushing against her auburn hair. “I don’t have anything to report. I’m just looking forward to the last day of school and having a few weeks off for summer break.”
“Oh, c’mon!” Blair says. “You have to have something new to report.”
“My life is pretty boring.” She looks back at Blair. “What about you?”
“Well”—she tucks her black bob behind one ear while she thinks—“I’ve just been working a lot.”
“Wait.” Carly grabs her arm, staring at her shirt. “Is that blood splatter on your sleeve?”
We all lean forward, trying to get a look too.
“It is blood!” Juliet’s eyes go wide. “Blair, what happened!”
“Oh, nothing.” She pulls her arm back, hiding the sleeve under the table. “A coworker had a bloody nose and sneezed. So, you know, blood went everywhere.”
Carly’s face contorts. “Gross. Why didn’t you change?”
“I wanted to, but I came straight from work.”
Emma frowns. “I thought you said you came straight from the airport.”
“Right. Work, then straight to a flight, then straight here.” She casually picks up her drink and looks at Carly. “What’s going on with you and Nate?”
There’s a big smile that spills across Carly’s face. “He’s just so great. Literally, Nate is great.”
“Are their wedding bells in your near future?” Juliet asks.
“Maybe, but we’ve only been dating, like, two months, so there’s plenty of time before we need to figure that out.” She turns to me. “Now we just need Camila’s life update.”
“Let me guess,” Juliet laughs. “You’ve just been working all the time.”
Yes, work is my typical update, but not this time.
I mean, it would bring the house down if I told them I was married and living with my estranged husband.
I say estranged because, although we’re living together, I’ve made it impossible for Hess and me to have any kind of relationship.
I’m never home, and when I am home, I mostly stay in my bedroom, which I thought was a good idea at first but quickly learned there are downfalls to hiding away in my room.
My massive bedroom windows face the horse corral and have become the portal to all my cowboy fantasies.
Except, nothing about what I’ve seen is a fantasy.
It was very real.
Like the way Hess’s shirt stuck to him with sweat as he repaired a fence, muscles flexing with each lift.
Or how his cowboy hat tipped low against the sun, giving him that rugged, mysterious silhouette.
And let’s not forget about the time he took a break, pulling off his hat, wiping sweat from his brow, drinking water straight from the hose, then dousing himself with the cold liquid as it trickled over his head and body.
Holy hay bales, it was attractive.
I miss the old Hess. The one who wore tennis shoes and regular shirts and was just a regular, nice guy. Where did that man go? I’d give anything for him to come back instead of this hot-rancher version of himself.
But I’m straying from the point.
Under no circumstances will I be telling my friends tonight about Hess, our marriage, our court-ordered living arrangements, or the ranch in Queen Creek.
Honestly, I’m surprised at how easy it’s been to keep this marriage a secret from our friends and families.
I thought for sure we’d have a pop-in by now, but so far, so good, which is very good for me.
Despite it all, I still can’t bring myself to admit out loud that I’m married.
Nobody would understand my reasons.
It’s best just to keep this to myself.
We’re almost one month down anyway.
Only five more to go, and then I can move on with my life.
I lift my chin, placing a smile on my lips. “I have been working a lot, but my boss promised that if I keep working hard, I’ll be made a partner soon. So the end is in sight.”
“That’s so great!” Carly’s smile is genuine. “Nobody deserves it more than you.”
“Once you make partner, we’ll have to have a big celebration party,” Emma says.
“Yes, just make sure you plan it when I’m in town,” Blair adds. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
“You guys are the best.”
I glance around the table at my friends, and for the first time since getting married five and a half years ago, I actually want to tell them about my marriage. But as soon as that thought enters my mind, I push it away.
When it comes to my marriage, it’s best if I leave my heart out of it.
Hess
It’s almost one-thirty in the morning, and Camila still isn’t home.
She’s never been this late before.
I tried calling and texting, but she isn’t answering.
I’m not worried.
Okay, maybe I’m a little worried.
I sit on the couch with Harvey, watching reruns of The Office, periodically looking over my shoulder out the front windows. I’ll give it thirty more minutes before I call the police and send a search party after her.
The protectiveness I feel for my wife is overwhelming, especially since we’ve barely spoken over the past three weeks, and when we do speak, it’s usually about logistics—who’s going to the grocery store, who’s making the marriage counseling appointment, who’s emptying the dishwasher.
I’d like to talk more than that, but Camila is a hard case to crack.
Lights beam through the window, and I clutch my chest, thankful she’s home safe. Strategically, I lie back into the couch so she doesn’t know how worried I was. I hear her keys and the twist of the lock. She steps inside and pauses when she sees me on the couch, watching TV.
“Oh, you’re still up.”
“Yeah.” I infuse as much casualness into my voice, but I don’t think it’s working. “You’re getting in late. Where have you been?”
That sounded way more accusatory than I wanted it to.
“I was out.”
And for the first time, it dawns on me that maybe Camila was on a date with another man. The jealousy that takes over my chest is paralyzing.
“Oh.” Despite myself, my shoulders fall.
A slow smile crawls onto her lips. “With my girlfriends.”
Busted.
She knows I thought she was on a date.
And she knows I was jealous.
“That’s cool.” I stand, using the remote to turn off the TV. “I just wish I had known you were going to get in this late.”
“Why? Were you worried or something?”
That same big smile covers her mouth, making her look really appealing.
I shoot for honesty, because that’s all I know. “Yes, Camila. I was worried.”
Her smile falls, and something real drifts into her brown eyes, like maybe this is the first time a man has ever been worried about her.
She masks it quickly. “Well, sorry. I told Harvey not to wait up.”
“You told Harvey?”
“Yeah.” She shrugs and then walks past me to her room.
I look down at Harvey as her door clicks shut. “When have you and Camila been conversing?”
His eyes peek up at me, but unfortunately, he doesn’t answer.