The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Chapter 8: The Weight of What Could Have Been

Selena's POV
The air hung heavy with unspoken words and the weight of it all settled on my shoulders. I couldn't stay inside any longer, the suffocating silence of the house echoing the hollowness inside me. I needed to talk to Camila, to reassure her, to make sure she understood. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't anyone's fault but Eric and Vanessa's. Their betrayal, their deceit, it felt like a tidal wave that had washed over my life, leaving me breathless and disoriented.

I pushed open the screen door and stepped onto the porch. Camila sat on the swing, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her gaze fixed on the sprawling garden blooming with vibrant colors. The setting sun cast an orange glow, painting the scene in a bittersweet warmth.

'Cam,' I began, my voice cracking with emotion. 'None of this is your fault. You need to understand that. Don't blame yourself for Eric and Vanessa's wrongdoings. Your emotions were toyed with, whether you and Vanessa were just 'screwing' or not.'

The word felt harsh, guttural. It didn't diminish the pain, the betrayal, the feeling of being stolen from. But I needed her to understand. I needed her to know that she was not the villain in this story.

I took a hesitant step towards her, the weight of my grief pulling me down. Camila looked up, her eyes wide and filled with pain that mirrored my own. The distance between us, both physical and emotional, felt insurmountable.

I reached out, my hand trembling as I touched her arm. 'You did nothing wrong,' I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. 'You welcomed me, you welcomed Kelly. You opened your heart and your home to us, and you treated her like your own. You are so good, Cam. So good.'

The words felt inadequate, a feeble attempt to express the depth of my gratitude. My world had crumbled around me, but amidst the wreckage, Camila had emerged as a beacon of light. Her love for Kelly, the way my daughter melted into her arms, the way she instinctively knew how to soothe her cries, it was like she was born to be a mother. A mother who held my heart in her hands, carefully tending to its fragile pieces.

I needed to be near her, to feel her presence, to know she was there. I sank down onto the swing beside her, pulling her close in a tight embrace. Her scent, a mix of lavender and sun-kissed skin, filled my senses, a comforting balm to my wounded soul.

She held me close, her arms a safe haven, a solid ground beneath my trembling feet. 'I wish I could have done something different,' she whispered into my hair, her voice thick with emotion. 'Anything. I wish I would have met you first. Given you and Kelly the life you deserved all along.'

The words were a heavy burden, a weight I couldn't bear for her to carry. 'Don't say that,' I murmured, pulling back slightly so I could look into her eyes. 'You couldn't have known. This was never your fault, Cam. It's not anyone's fault but Eric's and Vanessa's. You are not responsible for their choices.'

Her eyes, filled with a painful mixture of sadness and love, held me captive. I wanted to scream at her, to tell her to let go, to release the burden she was carrying. But I knew, deep down, that these words, these feelings, were a part of her, a part of her journey. And I needed to be there for her, to hold her hand, to guide her through the darkness.

We sat together for a long time, the only sound the rustling leaves and the chirping of crickets. The sunset painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, a melancholic beauty that mirrored the complexity of our emotions. The pain was still raw, the betrayal still stinging, but in Camila's gentle embrace, I found a glimmer of hope, a promise that maybe, just maybe, we could find our way through this together, hand in hand.