The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Chapter 19 : The Woman My Daughter Loves More Than Me

Selena's POV
The silence in the apartment was deafening. It was the kind of silence that felt heavy, thick with the weight of my daughter's unmet need. Kelly, my ten-month-old bundle of sunshine and fury, was having none of my attempts at soothing her. Her tiny face was crumpled in a mixture of frustration and sorrow, her little fists clenched tight as she wailed for her mommy.

Camila had left for work early this morning. A meeting, she'd said, her lips pressed into a firm line as she kissed me goodbye. Of course, I understood. Work was important, especially for someone like Camila who was not only a skilled prosecutor but also the owner of the law firm I worked at. But Kelly, alas, didn't understand. She hadn't yet developed the ability to grasp the intricacies of adult responsibility. Her world was simple: Mommy was there, or she wasn't.

I tried everything. I sang her lullabies, both the ones she usually loved and some new ones I'd learned hoping for a magic trick. I offered her her favorite stuffed animal, the one with the wonky ears and the perpetually missing button. I rocked her in my arms, attempting to mimic the rhythm of Camila's gentle sway. But nothing worked. Kelly continued to wail, her cries echoing through the house like a mournful symphony. Finally, defeated, I caved.

'Okay, okay,' I sighed, picking her up and settling her against my shoulder. 'Mommy's coming home soon. We'll wait for her, okay?'

My heart ached as I felt the tremors of her sobs against my chest. I knew it wasn't about waiting. It was about the comfort, the reassurance, the pure, unadulterated love that only Camila could offer. It was the kind of love that made me, at times, feel like a mere shadow, a pale imitation of the woman my daughter worshipped.

Just then, the familiar chime of Camila's car keys filled the air. A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a surge of warmth. I was so used to the constant cycle of longing for her presence, that even the everyday act of her returning home felt like a small miracle.

'Hey, baby girl!' Camila's voice, laced with a playful lilt, filled the house as she stepped inside. Kelly, sensing her presence, immediately quieted, her tiny face turning toward the source of the sound. Camila, ever intuitive, walked toward us with open arms.

'Hey, my love,' she cooed, taking Kelly into her arms. The way Kelly's expression softened, her tiny fists unclenching as she reached for Camila, was enough to make my heart melt. She seemed to forget all about the tears, her gaze fixed on Camila's face.

It was a sight I never grew tired of seeing. The way Camila's eyes softened as she looked at Kelly, the way her smile widened into something pure and unadulterated, the way she spoke to Kelly in a voice that was both soothing and playful. It was a love that transcended words, a connection that was both profound and simple.