A/N: Hello there. I haven't had much time to write lately and since I can't deliver a LJ10 update , I thought I'd post this one shot I had written some time ago. I had posted it on tumblr but took it off again because it's loosely based on a story that apparently exists already. I just wrote my own version of it.
Warning: it might be a little sad.
And please don't pressure me because of LJ10. I know you guys are waiting for an update but I'm doing the best I can with the time I have. Thank you - Jazmin
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Picking up my blazer from the floor, I took a deep breath and fixed my hair while I took a look around the hotel room. The messy sheets were an indicator to what had happened just now; as was the other woman in the big suite getting dressed. Even though this certainly wasn’t the first time I’d done this, the guilt was still a factor.
“I’m getting so sick of this, Lauren”, I heard the other woman speak as I put on my shoes. “When are you going to tell her?”
“Soon”, I answered quietly.
“You’ve been saying that for the past six months”, Normani replied with growing anger in her voice.
“It’s not that easy but I’ll do it. You need to give me some time”, I sighed deeply.
“I’m not going to be your fucking mistress any longer”, my business partner said. “Either you tell her this week or we’re done.”
“Come on”, I tried to soothe her and walked towards her.
“No, I’m serious this time”, she responded with determination and dodged my attempt to put my arms around her waist. “I’ve been patient but this is not what I want. The sneaking around was a little thrilling at first, I admit but this has gone on way too long.”
The older woman walked past me and made her way to the door.
“You have to tell Camila”, she added before leaving the room.
-
“Good evening, Ms. Jauregui.”
Just like every evening, I was greeted by our housekeeper who took my coat and smiled politely. The routine of it all was more tiring than the strenuous hours of work before. I had built a life for myself that seemed perfect on the outside. If only the glorious façade would match my state of mind.
“Thank you”, I mumbled in an exhausted voice. “Where is everyone?”
“They have gone to bed. I can warm up dinner if you like?”
“No, thank you. I’m fine. You can call it a night as well”, I saw her nodding and headed upstairs.
At first, I contemplated going to see Lucas but he was probably asleep and I didn’t want to wake him. So I went straight to the master bedroom. Opening the door, I saw Camila in bed with a book in her hands. The glasses perched on her nose, her hair in a neat ponytail and almost all of her body covered by the blankets; it was the same image as always. My wife of eleven years noticed me entering and tore her eyes off her reading material.
“Hi”, she greeted with a gentle smile.
“Hey”, I whispered for some reason.
My stomach was in knots. The memory of my conversation with Normani earlier had my pulse racing. I knew that I had to do it at some point. There was never going to be a good time. I stood in the middle of the room and simply looked at the brown-eyed woman. There was a part of me that loved her and didn’t want to hurt the woman who had been by my side through it all. But a different part of me said that we weren’t happy anymore. I knew I wasn’t.
