One and Only

Part 43

One and Only - Chapter Forty-Three
Lauren's POV
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It had been an exceptionally stressful week.
After announcing to the office on Monday that Camila and I were engaged, most of our coworkers had officially gotten over the initial shock. Most.
I couldn't even count how many times I'd been approached by Adriana or Rachel, the two girls relentless in their efforts to pretend I wasn't marrying someone. I'd grown accustomed to their flirty remarks over the course of my time knowing them, but now it just seemed like overkill. Ashley, the temp, didn't even speak to me, but every time we were in the same room, I could literally feel her eyes burning holes into me.
But none of them were as bad as Mark. He was constant in his attempts to try to persuade me to break off the engagement. So, the fact that he was now the co-coordinator with me had proven to be a disadvantage to my sanity. If I heard him talk to me about how I was making "the biggest mistake of my life" one more time, I was going to snap.
To top it all off, I was back to working late nights again. Richard had assigned me a new project to be in charge of, which meant sleep was no longer a part of my life. I'd barely seen or even spoken to Camila all week because of it. We lived together and the only time I could hold a conversation with her for more than five minutes was over text, only when I had time during meetings.
So as I stepped foot in my loft, I should've been ecstatic that today had been a Friday, but I knew I'd be spending the whole weekend working on whatever Richard was sending my way.
As I set my bag down and took off my heels, I noticed a note on the counter: Hi. If you're looking for food, your dinner is in the oven (don't worry-it's not another casserole). If you're looking for your super great fiancé, I'm probably asleep in our bed. Welcome home. I love you.
I smiled at the little heart she drew before setting the note down and taking a wrapped plate out of the oven. I moved to sit down at our table to eat, wishing she was sitting across from me. I would've given anything to actually hear her voice say something other than, "Have a good day at work," but I knew at least one of us needed to be well rested, especially the one planning the wedding.
I sighed, exhausted from the day. I loved my work, but I felt like it was becoming too much lately. I didn't know how hard it would be to juggle a career and a relationship at the same time. It was like if I wanted to spend time with Camila, my work performance suffered... but if I wanted to work, there was no time to be spent with her. There wasn't really a win-win situation for me here.
I wondered if it would always be like this-if I would always have this much work to do. I remember Richard promising me that after Mark and I fixed the problem in Portland, the work load would die down... yet it definitely hadn't.
I shrugged to myself. With the amount of money I was making, I should've be working that much. Nobody made my salary at my age by working just forty hours a week. So maybe some sacrifices had to be made for the time being-like seeing Camila for more than two hours a day.
With the thought of her in my mind, I finished my meal and headed to the bedroom after I'd cleaned up.
I noticed that Camila had left a small nightlight on so I could see where I was going, silently thanking her as I stripped down to my underwear and headed for the ensuite bathroom to get ready for bed.
After taking off my makeup and brushing my teeth, I walked back into the room, grabbing my phone off of the table to reply to a few last minute emails.
"What are you doing?" I heard, looking up to see Camila's eyes on me. I held back a smile at how sleepy she sounded.
"Just got home. What are you doing?" I asked, amused.
The brunette smirked, holding her arms out toward me, "Waiting for you to join me."
I chuckled at her response, setting my phone down on the nightstand before I climbed into bed, her arms immediately enveloping me.
"You smell good," she murmured.
A giggle escaped from my lips as I nestled my head in the crook of her neck.
We laid in silence, the feel of her stroking my arm something I'd never forget, and I was so happy to be close enough to hear the sound of her steady breathing.
"Lauren?" she said after a while.
"Hmm?" I replied, my eyes closed in contentment.
"Will you marry me?"
I leaned back, my forehead creased in confusion. "What?"
"Will you," she held up a ring, my jaw dropping at the sight of it, "marry me?"
"Holy shit," I gasped, sitting up. "Is that for me?" Camila laughed at my reaction, the sound making me meet our eyes again. "Of course I'll marry you," I grinned, kissing her quickly before she slid it on my finger.
She sat up, "I know it's not as fancy as the one you got me, but-"
"Shut up," I said, holding my left hand out to stare at it in awe. "I love it. I'm never taking it off."
She put her hand beside mine, resting her head on my shoulder. "Forever is a long time."
"Not long enough."
-
It was just after five in the morning when the sound of my phone's piercing ringtone woke me. I grimaced before forcing myself to get out of bed to answer it and clenched my jaw when I saw who was calling. "Mark, I swear to God, if you're drunk, I'm not coming to get you-"
"Why didn't you fill out this report?"
I paused. "What are you talking about? Why are you awake?"
"I couldn't sleep." He sounded panicked, "I'm sitting in front of my computer, going over what Mr. Clarke has outlined for us, and it says we can't go forward with the project without filling out this 'mandatory' report."
"Mark," I huffed. "What report?"
"Hold on, I'll forward it to you." I waited a moment before he said, "Sent."
I looked down at my phone, my eyes scanning over the document before I put it back to my ear. "Well, this is just great." I said, the statement coated with sarcasm. "Let me just add that to the list of things I already have to complete this weekend."
I heard Camila stir in bed behind me and I turned around briefly, watching her wipe at her eyes before her expression showed concern.
"What's it even supposed to be about?" I asked Mark.
He began to tell me when Camila interrupted, "Is everything okay?"
I gestured for her to be quiet, my irritability getting the best of me. "I can't believe I missed this," I told him. "Richard is going to kill me if he sees it's not finished."
"Look, I'll come over today to help you out."
Sighing, I nodded. "Okay. Well, I'm going to start working on it as soon as I can. I'll update you when you get here."
The older man spoke to me a bit more before he hung up, leaving me to fret over how irresponsible I had been with this project.
I let out a frustrated groan before I stomped my way to the bathroom, unclasping my bra as I started the shower.
Today was going to be a long day.
"Are you okay?" Camila asked, standing in the threshold.
I rolled my eyes, stepping out of my panties. "What does it look like, Camila?" I shook my head, "I have to do this stupid report by Monday, plus all of the other work I had planned for this weekend."
"I'm sorry," she said, walking closer to me. "Do you want me to join you?"
"I really don't have the time."
She nodded, stepping back, and I got in the shower, trying to keep down the scream that was building up in my throat.
I wasn't used to this. I wasn't used to being angry. But with everything that had happened this past week-the amount of work, the unnecessary comments about my engagement, the argument in that restaurant bathroom, the lack of seeing Camila... It was all becoming just a little bit too much. How much was I supposed to take before I snapped?
I hoped that the shower would help calm my nerves, but I had spent the whole time going over everything that was stressing me out, leaving me feeling more on edge than before.
I threw on a t-shirt and jeans before I decided to start my day, sulking as I entered my study.
To say that I was in a bad mood was a huge understatement-I was passed that. I had worked hard all week to make sure that I could spent at least some time with Camila today and tomorrow and yet I hadn't worked hard enough. It was so exasperating having my patience tested over and over again.
I didn't know how much time had gone by before Camila walked in, my attention shifting to her.
"Um," she looked displeased, "you have a visitor."
Not a second later, Mark brushed past her, his eyes wide with anxiety. "How far did you get?" he asked.
"Are you kidding me? I have no idea what I'm doing here."
He groaned, pushing me aside, "Move."
As I got to my feet, I glanced at Camila, "Could you bring me a chair?"
She didn't answer, a grimace present on her face as she left the room, and I heard Mark laugh.
"I can't believe you didn't tell her I was coming," he said.
I furrowed my eyebrow as I looked down at him, "Why? It's not like it's a big deal."
"Well, she basically hates me, so... the look on her face when she opened the door was pretty priceless."
I rolled my eyes, "Can we just get this over with? I don't really plan on getting fired on Monday because of this."
"Right," he nodded, his concentration moving back to the computer in front of him.
Camila entered the room again shortly after, placing the chair on the floor. I thanked her quickly as I pulled it next to Mark before sitting down, our eyes glued to the screen.
"So... how long do you think this is going to take?" the Cuban girl asked.
"Don't worry, princess," Mark interjected. "I'll be gone before noon."
"Why?" I questioned her.
"Well, I was hoping we could get some planning done now that it's the weekend. You know, for the wedding."
"Can't you call Sinu?" I asked, too overwhelmed to think about it.
"Well... yeah, but-"
Mark interrupted, "Hey, you still have the files from the meeting on Wednesday, right?"
I nodded, bending down to open a desk drawer. "You think these will help us with the report?"
"I hope so," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Let me see." I passed him the files before I noticed Camila had left the room. "What is that?"
"What? Did you find something?" I eagerly asked.
"No," he shook his head, pointing to my hand. "What is that?" He repeated.
"An engagement ring," I answered. "You know, since I'm engaged."
"You didn't have that on yesterday at work."
"That's because Camila gave it to me when I got home last night." I paused before sighing, "Go ahead, get it out of your system."
"I still can't believe you're doing this. You. Lauren Jauregui," he remarked. "Do you know how difficult it is to get divorced?"
"I don't plan on getting divorced," I clucked.
Mark gave me a disapproving look, "Nobody plans on getting divorced, but it happens all the time. Do you know why? Because getting married is a bad idea." I waited for him to continue, hoping this would all be over soon. "You aren't going to want her forever. You just want her now, because she's still new and she's hot and she understands you. But what about later in life when you get tired of having her around? What about when you want someone new again?"
"Are you done?" I asked.
He just smiled, looking back at the monitor, "I'll just fix one mistake at a time. First, the report. Next, your engagement."
Deep breath, Lauren, I thought to myself. Don't snap. Be cool.
I just needed to get through today.
I could do at least that, right?
-
We'd been working for a couple of hours when Mark glanced at his watch, immediately sending me an apologetic look.
"No," I said. "You're not leaving."
"It's noon."
"Are you looking at me? This is the face of someone who doesn't care what time it is. Do you see this?" I asked, gesturing to myself. "Look, can you see?"
"Yeah," he rolled his eyes. "I get it."
"Good-"
"But I can't stay."
I huffed, glaring at him, "We haven't gotten half of this done. What is so important that you have to leave for?"
He glanced toward the door, checking to see if Camila was around, before he whispered, "It's one of the only days my ex is letting me see my daughter. I can't cancel...."
My expression softened and I backed off, nodding understandingly. I couldn't take that away from him, no matter how much I needed to get this done. "Okay, yeah. Of course."
"I'm sorry," he frowned.
"Don't be," I stated. "Really, it's okay."
"I can stay for a few more minutes if you want. Maybe I can finish up a few more things," he offered and I agreed, desperate.
We looked up at the door when Camila entered. "Are you finished?" she asked, grinning.
"No," I answered, trying not to sound too annoyed. "Mark's about to leave though."
"Oh," she looked down at the tablet she was carrying. "So, I'm kind of stuck on what food we should have."
I rested my head in my hands, rubbing at my temples, "What?"
"You know, for the wedding," she clarified.
I met her eyes, shrugging, "I don't know. Whatever you want."
"I want your opinion," she smiled.
"Well, I don't have one," I responded, irritated that this was even a topic of conversation right now.
Mark chimed in, "I have a solution; how about you guys don't get married? Then you won't have to worry about the food and you won't make the mistake of making a legal bond to each other."
"How about you don't come to the wedding? Then I won't have to worry about you ruining everything and I won't make the mistake of having you in my wedding photos," Camila calmly shot back, her eyes fixed on her tablet before she looked up and gave a fake smile.
"Aw, but you guys would miss me. Especially Lauren. History has proven that she's got a sweet spot for the ol' Mark," he simpered.
"If you aren't going to help me finish this, then leave." I said, feeling myself getting worked up over the pressure of the little time I had running out. "The wedding is the last thing I want to hear about right now."
If Camila was offended by that, she seemed to brush it off, a look of delight on her face as Mark rose to his feet. I took my rightful seat back, overwhelmed at the amount of open files on my desk.
Mark passed right by Camila on his way out, the brunette prancing toward me. "What do you think about orchids?" she suggested, plopping down in my lap.
"Orchids?" I repeated, grimacing when she shifted to get comfortable.
Her delicate hands swiped the tablet to reveal a new picture of flowers, "How about hydrangeas?"
"What are you even talking about?" I asked, exasperated.
Her brown eyes looked up at me, kind of laughing at my demeanor, "For the wedding."
"Camila, I don't know!" I huffed, "Who cares?"
She leaned back, offended, "What do you mean 'who cares'?"
"It's just a wedding."
She gaped, "It's not just a wedding. It's our wedding."
I put my hand to my forehead, trying to calm down, "Can this just wait until later? I'm kind of busy."
Camila didn't reply, her expression hard as she got up and headed for the door. I scooted closer to the computer and tried to get back to work when she whirled around to face me. "You know what?" she yelled. "This can't wait until later." My eyebrows rose in surprise and I watched as she walked up to stand in front of me, only the desk separating us. "I've been waiting all week to ask you about this wedding and you can't give me one opinion about it. I can't plan this whole thing by myself!"
I huffed, too stressed out to be yelled at like this right now. "I have to have this report on Richard's desk by Monday. Do you understand that? I don't have the time to sit down and pretend that I actually want to pick out a color palette with you. Why don't you pick up your phone and call your mom to help? You're lucky you even have that option."
"Oh, don't play the mom card right now!" she raged. "This isn't about Clara, this is about you not caring about this wedding-just like you don't care about anything but your stupid work!"
"Any another day would've been fine but of course you pick the one I'm most busy on to bother me with this! I have so much work to do, Camila. Take a look at what's in front of you," I shrilled, pointing to my messy desk. "I can't play Wedding Planner with you today!"
"Oh yeah?" she exploded, lunging forward to swipe everything off of my desk. I gasped, quickly standing up when I felt hot coffee spill on my legs. "Not anymore!"
"This is unbelievable!" I screamed, my fists clenched by my sides. "I'm so done with hearing about these useless wedding plans! Can't you see I have more important things to do?"
"Useless?" she bitterly chuckled, her eyes filled with fury. "If you think this wedding is so 'useless' then why did you fucking propose to me in the first place?" I glared at her, incredulous. "God," she hissed, "just another one of your mistakes."
"Get out!" I seethed, "Get out!"
She let out a sound of vexation before she left the room, slamming the door shut behind her, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding in.
My eyes flitted to the floor, noticing all of the papers scattered around and out of order, some drenched in coffee, and I crouched down to pick it all up.
I groaned, my head throbbing in ways I didn't know were possible. The word 'stressed' was no comparison to how I felt now. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to pull this report off for Richard and now I didn't have any idea how I was going to fix things with Camila.
Maybe the timing was just off.... My career was just taking off and all of our friend were starting families, which just made Camila more desperate to want one... Maybe I should've waited to propose.
I gathered all of my papers and stood up, placing them on my desk while trying to ignore the burning sensation on my thighs from the sticky drink.
My hands were attempting to sort out the mess when my phone rang. "Hello?" I answered, wiping the coffee residue on my shirt.
"You're such a sucker."
Sofia.
I took a deep breath, assuming Camila had already made the call to Sinu about our fight, "Hi, Sofi."
"I found your journal," she said.
I stopped, my heart beginning to race. My journal? I hadn't even noticed I left it in Miami... and now Sofia had it.
"You know," she continued, joking, "some people would consider this thing creepy. I lost count of how many pages you've filled with words about her."
"How...," I gulped, "how much did you read?"
"Don't worry," Sofia said. "I only skimmed it to see what it was."
I sighed in relief, thankful she didn't read the pages about the affair. "I can't believe I didn't know it was gone. I've been really busy this week, so I haven't been writing a lot."
"Well, it's on its way back. We already put it in the mail and I made sure Mom didn't read it." I thanked her. "So," she continued, "does Camila know you write about her?"
"No."
"You should tell her. I think she'd like knowing that there's a while journal dedicated to her."
I blushed. There was way more than just one journal. "Well, she's not my biggest fan right now," I softly chuckled.
"What?" Sofia questioned, sounding alarmed. "Why?"
"It's nothing," I lied.
"You guys aren't going to, like, breakup... are you?"
I hesitated, "...No."
"You don't sound so sure."
Pausing to really think about it, I started to get nervous. That was a pretty huge fight, probably the biggest we've ever had... Were we still okay? "Hey," I started, clearing my throat to try to shake off the apprehension, "I have to go."
"...Okay," Sofia spoke, sounding a bit concerned. "Bye."
I hung up, setting my phone down in a place that didn't have coffee all over it, and took a look at the mess she created one last time before I decided to let it go. We weren't going to get anywhere if I sat there playing the blame game.
I wandered into the living room, trying to figure out where she was. I checked the kitchen, dining room, and balcony with no luck, finally retiring to the bedroom. When she wasn't there, I prayed she didn't leave.
I was about to check outside when I heard something from the bathroom. "Camila?" I called out. Nobody answered, so I stepped closer, standing outside of the bathroom door. "Camz, are you in there?" When there was no response, I opened the door, seeing her sat on the ground, her hand flying up to her face to wipe at her eyes. "Are you crying?" I rushed over to her, my stomach lurching at seeing her this upset because of me. She didn't say anything, her gaze focused on her lap, so I sat in front of her. "Hey," I said gently, holding her hands. "Hey, look at me."
Camila sniffled before she met our eyes, her cheeks coated with tears, and it was quiet for a bit before she murmured, "Are you sure you want to marry me?"
I blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Of course I-"
She interrupted, "Because if you don't, just tell me. I... I can take it. I don't want to trap you in something you don't want."
"Camz, I want to marry you. I just..." I sighed, "I've been so overwhelmed lately that I couldn't care less about what flowers we have or what food we order or who we invite. All that I really want is to make you my wife." She listened intently. "You're the one who wants the dream wedding... so I'm staying out of the way so you can create it, like Sinu said."
"Yeah, but... I don't want you out of the way. I don't want to plan this with my mom, I want to plan it with you. I want to do everything with you," she said, her voice quiet.
"Okay," I said. "I'll be more involved."
"Okay," she whispered.
"I'm sorry for what I said earlier."
Camila nodded, "I'm sorry for what I said, too... and for tossing everything of your desk... and for getting hot coffee all over you... and for yelling...."
I giggled, squeezing her hands affectionately before I planted a swift kiss on her lips. "I forgive you."
"I forgive you, too," she beamed.
"So...," my hands hit the cool tile as I leaned back, "how does one exactly 'plan a wedding'?"
Her eyes lit up at my question. "Well, I have a few ideas already that I want you to look over." She began to speak in depth about every little detail she wanted, down to the fonts for the wedding invites, and I found myself trying to hold in a laugh at how elaborate her plans were.
I didn't mention anything about just how similar her ideas sounded to the wedding scrapbook she made with her dad, the realization making me smile.
There wasn't a better feeling in the world than knowing she wanted me in her dream wedding.
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