The Donor

Chapter 22

Camila’s POV

Almost 2 months later and I’m lying awake in bed watching Lauren as she rushes around my bedroom, toothbrush in her mouth and its paste smeared across her lips while she leans down and ties her boots. I laugh at her when she stands up too quickly and almost trips on one of the many toys our daughter has strewn across all rooms in the apartment.

“In a rush are we?” I tease when she paces into the room again, toothbrush now rid from her mouth and only a spec of toothpaste at its corner.

“And it’s all your fault,” Lauren says with finality before throwing on her bomber jacket that lay on my messy floor, the two of us too impatient last night to take our time in placing it on the coat rack, wanting to be connected again quickly.

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” I tease again, watching as my girlfriend’s face flushes with warmth, prompting memories of this morning and just why she was running late for work.

“I could never complain.” Lauren finally has her boots and jacket on to complete her outfit, now hovering her face over mine.

“I sure hope not,” I hold her face in my hands and offer another passionate kiss of this morning… well, maybe not quite as passionate as the ones we had shared earlier. After a few moments of my arousal spiking and more insistent lips, Lauren eases herself away from me, her lips however refusing to do so in their attempt to stay attached to mine.

“I really have to go, baby,” Lauren finally says when she has pulled away from me completely, grabbing her car keys off the side, her eyes sympathetic at my pout.

“Fine.”

“Baby, don’t do this.”

“Hm, fine,” I mutter, still pouting at the fact my girlfriend is no longer keeping me warm in bed.

“I’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Ok, babe. Have a good day at work and call me if you get the chance,” I relent, poking my lips out for her to kiss them again which she does.

“I always do.” With one final kiss, Lauren ducks out of my bedroom and I hear her quietly unlock my front door with my keys before letting herself out. And then I pout some more. Laying back onto the bed I groan at the lack of warmth coming from where Lauren’s body should be and I groan at how much I already miss her.

Smiling to myself I think about just how domestic that felt. My girlfriend leaving me in bed so she could get to work; in about an hour or so having to take our daughter to school, and for the remainder of the day awaiting Lauren’s call just to hear her voice and to find out what she’s up to. Just like a married couple. Thinking like this would almost explain the ‘I love you’ that nearly fell from my lips a few nights ago and again this morning. Sure, both times it had been during sex but I can’t help feel that maybe thoughts during those times are the most genuine: when the moment is intense, raw and almost pure with passion.

I know that it’s too soon to think about love and to think about how right it feels to be in the situation we had a few moments ago, feeling so domestic. But when one of those thoughts arise, it feels impossible to delay its resurface.

“Mila?” I turn my head up at my bedroom door, slightly ajar with Dinah’s face peering through it. With little thought I move away from the centre of the bed and lift up the side of the duvet for the younger woman to crawl into Lauren’s side. “So green eyes just left?”