I Built This Home For Me, For You

Chapter 22

The next morning, Lauren had been expecting some of the tension to fade after a night of sleep to let go of their anger, but Camila didn't say a word when she walked downstairs for breakfast. Sitting at the table, filling in the crossword in the newspaper, Lauren looked up reaching for her coffee as she watched her wife shuffle in, her face drawn and brunette hair hanging limply around her face. Camila didn't so much as look at her as she filled a cup up with coffee and grabbed a box of cereal, filling up a bowl and pouring some milk in it, before heading towards the door.

"What, so that's it?" Lauren called after her, "You're just going to ignore me?"

"I have nothing else to say," Camila said, slowing, but not turning around as she neared the door.

"How about sorry?" Lauren snapped, her patience wearing thin.

That made Camila turn around, a look of surprise on her face as she met Lauren's eyes. "Sorry?"

Clenching her teeth, Lauren gave her a hard look, "We both said mean things, and I think you owe me an apology, just as much as I owed you one."

Scoffing, Camila walked over to the table and set her bowl down, a little bit too hard, making milk slosh out of the bowl as she dragged a chair out. Lauren wasn't sure if she was being particularly irritating because she was in a bad mood, but the sound of the chair grating on the floor set her teeth on edge. Sitting down at the opposite end of the table, Camila scooped up a mouthful of cereal, scowling as she chewed quickly. Lauren scoffed, giving her a wry smile as she took a sip of her coffee, "And here I thought I was the one with too much stubborn pride."

"It's not pride," Camila hotly replied, her cheeks reddening slightly, "It's ... if I talk to you, I'm going to get mad again, and I don't want to argue."

"Because silence is so much better," Lauren snorted, shaking her head as she turned her attention back to the newspaper.

Camila didn't reply, and Lauren took that as a yes that she did think silence was better than them actually trying to talk about last night. Neither of them spoke until Lily came bounding downstairs, dressed in her soccer uniform, bouncing with excitement at the prospect of her match later on and seemingly oblivious to the tension between her parents.

"Mom, have you seen my shoes?" Lily asked, putting some bread down in the toaster and pouring herself a glass of water.

"In the laundry room," Camila said, beckoning her over and patting the chair nearest to her. Climbing to her feet, Lauren walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge.

"Just butter, love?" she asked, looking over at Lily, who nodded while she sat down and let Camila try and fix the tangled mess of hair she'd hastily tied up. "Are you having any? Camila?"

She gave her wife an expectant look, waiting for an answer, and Camila silently shook her head, eliciting an eye roll from Lauren as she grabbed the butter and roughly opened a drawer to fetch a knife. Lily was watching with a hesitant look on her face, patiently letting Camila braid her hair for her. "Are you ... are you guys fighting? Is it because of Daisy?"

Letting out a soft sigh, Lauren grabbed the toast as it popped up, quickly buttering it and cutting it in half, while Camila gave their daughter a warm smile, brushing back a few wisps of dark hair, "Everything's fine."

Making a small sound of disapproval, Lauren set the toast down in front of Lily and sank back into her seat, pursing her lips slightly as she picked up her pen and turned her attention back to her crossword. They finished breakfast with less tension as Lily diffused it with her constant chattering, and then they quickly got dressed and Lauren sent Lily to go on ahead with Camila, so that she could make sure Clara was okay before leaving. Assured that her mom was okay resting in bed, Lauren left her watching the Discovery Channel with a cup of coffee and went to the soccer match.