o&o ~ camren

chapter seventeen

It was when my phone buzzed that I realized what time it was. I gaped, no doubt knowing that I'd have to get dressed alongside Camila today. I was usually out of the loft before she even woke up.

I disregarded the text from Mark as I walked to my bedroom, noting Camila's absence. Quickly, I got dressed—showering, drying my hair, applying make-up, and finally putting on a fairly tight, black dress that ended just before my knees. I noticed just how quiet it was when I walked into the living room to see Camila asleep on the couch.

Even though she was sleeping, she looked exhausted. I had barely looked at her in almost two weeks and to see her now, like this—it was upsetting. I cared about this girl, I really cared about her. Not hearing her voice or her laugh was killing me—not seeing her smile or feeling her arms around me, it was all becoming too much. But every time I was near her, all I thought about was the way she screamed at me. There was nothing but absolute anger in her voice and when people are angry, they tell the truth. It seemed like I wasn't the only one hiding how I felt. I had deep feelings for her and she thought I was a mistake.

I sighed, walking over to her. If she didn't wake up soon, she'd be late. I folded my legs underneath me, sitting on the floor next to her. The dark circles under her eyes were evident and it looked like she'd lost weight. I grimaced, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before I tapped on her shoulder. "Camila?" She stirred, her eyes opening to blink up at me. She looked confused. I waited until she was completely awake before speaking again. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

Camila frowned at me. "Because I can't sleep in our bed without you. It feels empty. At least with sleeping on the couch, I can pretend that the only reason you aren't next to me is because there's no room." She paused, thinking something over in her mind. "But even then it doesn't work, because we used to fall asleep on the couch together all of the time." She shrugged at little, staring at me. "I'm just trying to adjust to a life with less of you... but it's not working." Her hand grasped mine and I immediately tensed. "I really love—" She stopped herself, her voice cracking at what she was about to say. Camila shook her head as if trying to dismiss her thoughts. "I really need you in my life, Lauren." She began to cry, getting up off the couch and locking herself in the bathroom.

I rubbed at my temples, suddenly overcome with a headache. Knowing I wasn't going to resolve this in the next ten minutes, I got to my feet, beginning my short walk to work.

She was going to say she really loved me, but that was different from being in love with me, right? I mean, before we started dating, she said she loved me all the time. I dismissed the thought as fast as I could. No, I couldn't deal with that right now. One mishap at a time.

Watching her cry was one of the worst things in the world to me. It made me want to forget about everything and show her just how much I needed her in my life. I huffed, remembering that that was exactly what I had planned to do before she blew up on me like that. I thought that with a couple of days the sting of the truth would fade but honestly, it still hurt as much as the moment she said it.

But I missed her. I missed touching her and kissing her and sleeping next to her. I missed the way she crawled up into my lap and I missed talking to her. I missed holding her hand and looking at her—the way she was always near me whether we were sitting across from each other at work or eating together or watching some stupid movie with one another. I missed all of it. I missed her.

This whole thing was fucked up. I hadn't seen my girlfriend smile in God knows how long. I hadn't heard her laugh or felt her lips. I didn't know what to do.

Mark kept asking me what was wrong but I never told him. I couldn't say it. I didn't want to make it feel more real. I didn't want to say, "Things might end between Camila and I." out loud. I just wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready to lose her. But was she ready to lose me?