Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
VALERIA
Would spending an entire month—every spare moment they had between the week and weekend—lost in each other, chasing the other’s orgasms, count as being productive?
Valeria would argue yes.
The most productive time she’d ever spent doing anything, in fact.
Learning every little thing that makes Camila shiver with desire, discovering how easily they can unravel each other, how naturally they fit.
It felt less like a distraction and more like devotion—time so full it leaves nothing wasted.
Valeria never knew sex could be like that—full of longing and passion, gentle yet intense. It’s had her floating on a cloud all month, making the hardest days at the clinic manageable. It’s not only the physical side of her relationship with Camila that has her feeling this way; it’s everything.
Everything with her feels hazy and golden, like living inside a daydream.
Cooking, cleaning, even doing absolutely nothing somehow feels better with her around.
Like when Valeria curls against Camila’s chest as they lie on the couch while they each read their own books, or Camila reads aloud just because she knows Valeria loves the sound of her voice, fingers absentmindedly running through Valeria’s hair.
Valeria finally understands something she never fully did before—the way her friends used to talk about their partners, the almost ridiculous urge to always be with them or near them.
When Valeria told the girls that she and Camila were officially together, Clara had joked that they’d see her again in a couple of months.
Valeria laughed it off and playfully rolled her eyes, because it had never been the case with Brooke.
Sure, they were together most of the time, but Brooke loved going out and going to parties, especially at the beginning of their relationship.
But now, after an entire month spent wrapped up in Camila, with no desire to leave her house except for work or food, she gets it. Completely. Why would she want to be anywhere else, when everything she wants is right here—when everything she wants is Camila.
Lucky doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling of being with Camila.
After years of arguing, being let down, and fighting for someone who never truly appreciated her, she’s found something different.
Someone who adores her, who excites her, who respects her, and cares.
The contrast is almost dizzying—in the best way.
She’s spent so long bracing for disappointment that being treated gently, consistently, and wholeheartedly still feels unreal sometimes.
In barely a month of dating Camila, Valeria feels more love than she did in six years with Brooke.
Love.
The word has been turning over and over in Valeria’s mind for days now, and every time it appears, it brings everything good with it. Compassion, calm, certainty, and today, it’s no different.
Morning arrives slowly, sunlight spilling through the blinds in soft, golden stripes, glowing against Camila’s skin, making her look like something out of a dream. The word love settles nicely in Valeria’s chest.
A whole month of their relationship has slipped by in a blur.
Valeria can’t remember the last time she slept in her own apartment, or when she was last there.
It’s probably been since the Sunday after their first date.
She’s been getting by with the same three pairs of scrubs for work and cycling through Camila’s clothes when she gets back.
She never thought she was the U-Haul type.
It took nearly a year before she and Brooke moved in together—not because Brooke wasn’t pushing for it, but because Valeria had never lived with anyone besides her parents, and moving in with a partner felt like such a big step that she didn’t want to rush it.
But with Camila, the desire is immediate.
Valeria craves the simple act of being near her, breathing the same air, existing in the same space.
She wants to wake up beside her every morning, to feel Miso stretch across her chest before settling herself atop Camila’s head.
She wants shared mornings, shared coffee, and her belongings scattered around Camila’s space.
The longing for that life is so sharp it almost hurts.
“Why the sad face so early in the morning?” Camila murmurs, eyes still heavy with sleep as her arm slings over Valeria, pulling her in closer until their noses are pressed together.
“Just thinking about how I haven’t been home in weeks,” Valeria answers. Camila’s eyes open a little wider, suddenly, more awake.
“Do you need something?” she asks gently. “Or are you thinking you want to start staying there after work?”
Valeria shakes her head. “Neither.”
Camila visibly relaxes. “Then what is it?”
“It’s silly.”
Camila tilts her head, thumb brushing slow circles over Valeria’s cheek. “Nothing you think or feel is silly. Especially not when it’s making you look like that.” Camila leans in to kiss Valeria’s temple. “Tell me.”
Camila doesn’t rush her after she says, “Tell me.” She stays there—warm and solid. Valeria’s instinct is to deflect; she doesn’t want to scare her. A month isn’t enough time, even if they’ve known each other for longer.
Valeria can’t seem to meet Camila’s eyes, so she stares at her collarbone instead.
Chews on her bottom lip, not sure what to do next.
When Valeria’s eyes meet Camila’s, the safety in them makes her feel brave.
She can voice it, and if Camila isn’t ready, they will talk about it. Like they always do.
Valeria draws in a deep breath. “I was thinking . . . I don’t ever want to go back to my apartment.
” Valeria pauses to bite the inside of her cheek as she tries to get her heart to settle.
“I know it’s soon, but I want to be here with you and Miso every morning.
I know that sounds wild, considering we’ve only officially been together for a month, but I—I don’t want to be far from you. Ever. Is that completely irrational?”
Camila’s fingers tighten around hers, her smile blooming slowly. “Irrational? No. Unexpected, maybe, but definitely not irrational.” Her thumb ghosts over Valeria’s bottom lip, a touch light enough to make her breath catch. “I’ve been thinking the same thing, actually.”
Valeria’s stomach does a nervous flip, a flutter of wings trapped in her chest. “You have?”
Camila nods, eyes steady on hers. “Yeah. I just . . . didn’t want to scare you off by saying it first.” Her thumb keeps tracing slow, absentminded circles against Valeria’s skin.
“But I keep catching myself thinking about it. Like, whether you’d want the left or the right side of the closet.
Or if, when we move in together, you’d let me reorganize the bookshelves by color instead of by last name, like yours are at the apartment. ”
“I could be persuaded,” Valeria says, leaning in to kiss Camila. Her chest is so full it should be impossible, but not overwhelming; it’s steady. Difficult conversations come easily with Camila.
“Noted.” Camila brushes her nose lightly against Valeria’s. “I want this house to be our home, or we can go to your apartment. I really don’t care; I want to wake up next to you every day, and I know it’s fast, and I’m not going to lie, it’s scary, but I want it.”
“I want that too,” Valeria answers, draping herself over Camila before wrapping her arms around her thigh.
Camila lets out a soft laugh, and the sound alone is enough to make Valeria feel like she could die of happiness.
Her heart aches most sweetly, like it’s finally found a place to rest, and that’s when the realization hits Valeria all at once, and she goes still with it—the truth settling deep in her chest, heavy and tender all at once.
She loves this woman.
Not the dizzy, frantic kind she’s known before, but something softer. Something that feels like home. Like safety. Soft in the places love is supposed to be soft. Strong where it counts.
A feeling that’s been building for weeks without her noticing.
But it was always there, simmering quietly.
In the way Camila hands her a mug of coffee in the morning without asking, already knowing how she likes it.
In the way she listens when Valeria talks about literally anything, like every word she says matters deeply to her.
In the way she laughs at Valeria’s silly jokes like they’re genuinely funny, even when Valeria knows they’re not.
Being with her is like exhaling after holding her breath for years.
She loves Camila, loves the life she’s building with her.
The realization doesn’t scare her. If anything, it excites her—fills her with an affection that settles deep in her chest.
She shifts slightly in Camila’s arms and presses a soft kiss to her shoulder, relishing the feeling of the perfection of it all.
Her phone rings on the night table, and Valeria reaches for it without paying attention to the caller ID and picks it up immediately as she cuddles back into Camila’s arms.
“Hello!” Valeria sings into her phone, bright and automatic, half-smiling as she expects one of the girls to answer back, but there’s nothing. The silence stretches a second too long, and a faint, uneasy prickle crawls up the back of her neck. Like her body knows something she doesn’t yet.
She pulls the phone away from her ear, glances at the screen, and her stomach drops as she sees Brooke on the caller ID.
Valeria should know by now that when things start to feel perfect, she can always count on Brooke to strip her of all safety.
Acid churns violently, crawling up her throat as her pulse spikes.
Her fingers go numb, and her phone is suddenly too slick in her grip as the room tilts and all the warmth drains from her body.
She turns toward Camila and her smile falters as concern shadows her gentle features. “Valeria?” Camila asks in a soft voice. “Who is it?” she says, eyebrows knitted.