Chapter 12 #3
The rest of the hour she spends at her parents’ house, Camila’s brain and heart are a mix of emotions she doesn’t know how to untangle.
At home, the confusion only worsens, and a bit of anger settles.
Anger at her mom for all the pain she caused, only for her to say sorry now and move past it like it didn’t mess with Camila’s self-worth for years.
Mainly, she feels angry at herself for not being able to accept the apology and move on.
She spent years going to therapy, trying to accept the fact that her mom might never be a part of her life like this, and now, the one thing she’s always wanted feels so anticlimactic.
She wasn’t ever expecting some big apology or emotional conversation; honestly, it got more emotional than she ever thought her mom was capable of, but now it’s all been said, and Camila can’t help but feel it should have been more.
More of what, though, she can’t quite decipher.
Camila checks her phone, hoping the two hours until she needs to meet Valeria have magically passed by so she doesn’t have to sit with all this confusion and anger any longer, but the time disappoints her.
She paces the length of her couch a few times before deciding she’ll head over now; two hours isn’t a long time. It’ll take her forty minutes to get there, and she can take a book and order a drink while she waits.
“Great idea,” Camila whispers to herself as she grabs a book from her shelf and heads out the door.
When she gets in her car, Camila throws on her “Gay Girl Sh*t” playlist, hoping Lauren Sanderson, King Princess, and Young Miko will take over her brain space enough that all the confusion she feels will dissolve—if only for a few minutes.
When she makes it to the coffee shop, she realizes their bar won’t be open for another hour and a half.
Disappointed, she settles for a chai latte.
Once she’s got it in hand, she heads to a table near the big windows overlooking the street and sits there, people watching for a few seconds as the first sip of her drink settles her nerves a touch.
She pulls out the book she brought, realizing she doesn’t know what she brought, and she’s more than excited to know it’s a romantasy that’s been sitting on her shelf for an embarrassingly long time.
Camila cracks the spine—mentally apologizes to the book gods—and starts on the first chapter, getting lost in the world, only here and there looking up at the front door of the coffee shop, and occasionally peering at her phone to check the time.
Five o’clock comes and goes with no Valeria.
By 5:15, Camila worries she has her dates confused.
She checks their message thread, and it’s definitely for today.
She sets her phone down again and reads another chapter.
Around 5:30, Camila texts Valeria and grabs a whiskey.
By 5:45, Camila accepts that she’s not coming.
She gathers her empty cups and walks toward the front door of the cafe.
“Thank you,” she says, turning to the barista. When she turns back toward the front door, her chin knocks into something, or rather, someone.
“Fuck,” Camila whispers, grabbing her chin.
“I’m so sorry!” Valeria says, out of breath, reaching for Camila’s arm as she rubs at her forehead.
“Are you okay?” Camila asks the second she realizes it’s Valeria. Because that—apparently—is more important than her own pain.
Valeria takes a big breath. “Yeah. Are you? I ran into you pretty hard.”
“I’m fine.”
“Good. I’m sorry I’m late. I had a complicated last appointment today, and I couldn’t pass it off to another vet. I’m so, so, so sorry for keeping you waiting. I would have called you, but my phone died.”
“It’s fine. I’m glad you’re okay,” Camila replies. “I caught up on some reading, so you’re all good.”
“Are you sure? You’re not mad?”
“Not even a little. Come on, let’s go find a seat.”
Valeria looks down, her fingers sliding repeatedly along the strap of her purse. Her voice softens to almost a whisper. “You are too nice.”
Thankfully, the table Camila was at earlier is still available.
Valeria tosses her phone onto the table. “I swear I charged it last night.” She runs her hands through her hair. “I’m usually a lot better at communicating. I’m sorry.”
Camila holds back a chuckle, slightly amused at how bad Valeria feels. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
“I don’t know, for having to stay at work a little later and for being late because of it.”
Camila narrows her eyes, her head tilting slightly as she tries to make sense of what Valeria is saying. “You’re apologizing because there was an animal that needed your help, so you helped it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Valeria laughs.
Camila reaches for Valeria’s hand, hoping the contact will emphasize what she’s going to say.
“Valeria, you were at work, your phone died, and you don’t need to apologize for that.
Plus, you’re here now. Everything is fine, I promise you.
” She lets go, realizing her hands have started to tingle.
She opens and closes them a few times, trying to get the feeling to simmer down.
“Now, why don’t you stop apologizing for literally the silliest things I’ve ever heard and instead tell me what you’d like to drink so I can go get it and you can tell me all about this last appointment of yours.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
Camila nods and heads toward the bar—flags down a barista and orders two whiskeys.
When she makes it back, Valeria is staring out the window, completely engrossed in something.
“What’s got your attention?” she asks as she sets the cup in front of her.
“Nothing, just disassociating,” Valeria laughs. “Today was a long day. I took a few days off, and today was my first day back. So I’m extra tired.”
Something in Camila goes still, and an unease settles. “What’s going on?”
Valeria’s shoulders lift on a breath that sounds too heavy for her frame. She sinks onto the chair and scoots closer—not too close, but close enough that Camila feels the heat radiating off of her.
“Brooke and I broke up a few days ago,” she says, voice low. She presses the heel of her hand to her forehead as if the memory hurts to remember. “For good,” she adds in a softer voice.
Camila’s bottom lip juts out. “I didn’t know; I’m sorry.” And she is, but there’s relief tangled up in it, too. Relief at knowing Valeria won’t have to deal with Brooke anymore.
“I should have texted. I know I should’ve. I saw your messages. I just—my brain felt like someone unplugged it.”
The worry Camila had felt for those few days rearranges itself—less hurt now, and more protective.
“You don’t owe me an explanation. Pain is funny in how it manifests.
Sounds like you needed time to yourself to process.
I can’t imagine you’ve had an easy few days, and sometimes explaining it all feels like too much on top of everything. ”
Valeria looks up, eyes glowing with exhaustion. “I was so scared you’d be mad,” she admits. “Or done with me. Or . . . I don’t know. Since we met, I have only brought drama.”
“Val,” Camila replies gently, “I’m not going anywhere. I think you’re wonderful. This is a tough time for you. What kind of friend would I be if I disappeared?”
She leans into Camila’s side enough that their shoulders brush.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “You are a much better friend than I deserve.” Valeria leans her head on Camila’s shoulder.
“That’s simply not true.” Camila rests her head on top of Valeria’s. Both of them hold that position until Valeria sits up a few seconds later.
“Is there anything you need? Do you want to talk about what happened?” Camila asks, doing her best to ignore a poorly covered yellowing bruise on Valeria’s chin.
It’s the first time she’s noticed it, and the sight of it makes Camila’s stomach lurch violently, and a wave of nausea rolls through her.
“Maybe not today. Why don’t you tell me about your day instead? How did it go with your parents?”
“I’m still reeling,” Camila admits, fingers slipping into her hair as she forces herself to stay present.
“Tell me more,” Valeria says as she takes a sip of her drink.
Camila takes a sharp breath. If Valeria wants to steer them somewhere else, she can follow, or at least she can try.
“My mom wanted me to come over because she was trying to set me up.”
“Oh no, with a man?” Valeria asks, eyes wide.
“That’s what I thought, so imagine my surprise when in walked this goddess of a woman in a very impressive suit.”
“Shut up. I thought you said your mom wasn’t supportive.”
“She isn’t! Wasn’t? I don’t know anymore. She apologized and said she wants to be a part of my life.”
Valeria freezes, mouth open in surprise. “And her way of telling you that was by setting you up?”
“Apparently.”
“Wow. How do you feel about that?”
Camila shrugs. “I have no idea. I’ve been spiraling since it happened. Not quite sure how to feel or what I feel. I thought this day would never come, and now that it’s here . . . I don’t know, it doesn’t feel monumental enough.”
“Maybe it’s shock,” Valeria offers.
“Probably, or maybe I don’t fully believe it. I’m waiting for her to take it back, because that’s the only way all the pain she caused makes sense.”
“It’s probably all of it, honestly. When my dad finally came around to my sexuality, it took months for me to trust it.
Sometimes, when he refuses to call Brooke my girlfriend, I think he might break into a lecture on how it isn’t right.
” Valeria wraps her arms around herself.
“Though, I guess it won’t be a problem anymore. ”
Camila frowns. “You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
Valeria shakes her head. “It’s all I’ve done these past few days.
I’ve been commandeering the pull-out couch at Alejandra and Clara’s for days now.
The thought of going home is just so sad.
It wasn’t even ours. She just slept over a lot, but the thought of being there without her makes going home all that much sadder. ”
“I completely understand. I did the same thing when Eileen and I broke up. My best friend’s couch hated to see me coming.
I think I slept on that thing for at least a month.
” Camila rolls her shoulders, remembering the back pain.
“If you ever need to get away or want to be near the water, my house has more rooms than I know what to do with. You are welcome to stay there as long as you need.”
“Once the girls kick me out, I’ll probably take you up on it.” Valeria smiles. “In the meantime, tell me about this woman your mom has found for you.”
Camila doesn’t hesitate. Is she interested in dating Zoe? No, but the attention feels good. “Her name is Zoe, super attractive, and kind of an ego boost that my mom thought I’d ever be able to pull someone like her.”
“Oh, hush, you know you’re attractive, and you’re incredibly kind. Zoe could only dream of someone like you.”
A small swell of emotion rises within Camila, and she forces it down.
Valeria is a friend—a friend who is recently out of a seriously toxic relationship.
But more importantly—and something Camila would do well to remember—is that Valeria is calling her attractive the way so many of her other friends have, platonically.
“Thanks,” Camila says, her cheeks warming a bit.
“Are you going to see her? Did you get her number?”
“I am, and I did! She asked me to dinner. I don’t know when, but I’m excited. I haven’t been on a date in—” Camila taps her chin, trying to figure out when the last time she went out on a date was, but her mind is blank. “I actually have no idea,” she says, surprised.
“A crime, truly.” Her eyes dip briefly before returning to Camila’s face. “But I’m excited for you. I’ll want to know all about it when it happens. Since I’m probably done dating for the rest of my life.”
Camila knows the feeling, knows Valeria means it now, but that the feeling will trickle away. However, telling Valeria she’ll change her mind in the future is the wrong thing to say, no matter how much Camila believes it.
So instead she says, “If she ever calls, I promise to give you all the juicy details.”
“It’s a deal then.” Valeria nods, and they clink their glasses.
Still, the thought of someone breaking Valeria’s belief in love also shatters something in Camila. Her chest tightens with the memory of how it feels to lose faith in something you once trusted with your whole body, your whole soul.
A pain she knows too well, and she wishes—fiercely, uselessly—that she could take it from her.