Where Were You

Welcome To Dylan's New World

Lauren's PoV

I never really had a chance to glance around Camila's office the moment I walked in. She looked breathtaking and pretty much stole my attention in her buttoned up shirt and black slacks. She looked so healthy and strong.

Unlike me.

I was still a little smaller than usual – food wasn't my best friend in those dark days. I was still putting fat back on my body so I could build muscle.

But Camila looked very good.

Her eyes were the same colour as they always were but with a hint of greyish tones that she never had before.

Chelsea introduced us, knowing full well that I knew who Camila was, but kept it professional.

I couldn't help but take a hold of the hand that was held in front of me.

I swallowed but fought my urge to look away.

"It's nice to see you." Camila whispered and I couldn't help but look surprised.

She wasn't mad?

She wasn't screaming at me?

"You too." I said in the same volume she used.

"Well," Chelsea took the lead and pushed a chair out for me. I took the seat and finally, finally looked down at the frames that scattered across her 'homely' office.

I felt myself choke up at the most recent picture of Dylan. The front of her hair was pulled back with the exception of a few loose curls that framed her face. She was smiling widely for the camera and I've never seen her so happy. It was her recent school picture. I glanced at the frame beside it with another school picture. Only it was the blonde girl from Tim Hortons the other night. Grey eyes and long wavy brunette hair with her skin as dark as Dylan's. She was beautiful.

Like her mother.

"So you're welcome to ask any questions," Kathryn came into the room, "Camila would be happy to answer all that she can regarding Dylan's stay with her."

I bit my lip and glanced down at my worn down fingernails. I've gotten into the habit of biting them when I was nervous. Chelsea nudged me after I was so quiet for so long. I was lost in thought with everything that had happened since graduation day. I looked up and Camila's eyes studied me with carefulness. "Is she happy?" I asked.

Camila's let out a soft smile. "She is," she leaned forward and played with the pen that was in her hand, "she told me to tell you that she loves you and she misses you."

I shared a look with Chelsea and she squeezed my hand.

I had so many questions floating around in my head. The problem was that I couldn't think of one single one to ask.

I was overwhelmed.

I was so happy that I was one step closer to getting Dylan and I was so happy that I wasn't throwing up with excitement.

I wanted to ask Camila how she was. If she was happy. But something stopped me. I told myself that it wasn't time.

I'd make time.

But not now.

The meeting was kind of a blur. I hate to say it but I don't remember what exactly was said. I watched her lips moves as she spoke.

Grown-up Camila was hotter than high school Camila.

The reason I found her hotter is because she seemed comfortable in her own skin. She always had but seeing as how her hockey career was ripped from her, she held it together pretty good. Look at the life she made for herself.