The Donor

Chapter 25

A/N Warning: this is a short chapter and I’m very sorry. I’ll make it up to you in the next one ;)

Camila’s POV

“You’re what?” When I realise I closed my eyes at the confession, subconsciously providing a poor barrier for the tears, I reopen them to find confused, shocked blue eyes staring back at me. But when I raise the barrier of my lids, like I expected, the tears fall recklessly.

I cower into my own body, bringing my arms up to my face, my tears already starting to soak through my sleeves. Familiar lithe arms wrap themselves around my body and I’m pulled into Abbey’s body. I embrace the warmth and curl myself awkwardly into her, the position proving difficult from sitting on adjacent stools. She slowly starts to stroke at my hair, not like Lauren does. Abbey likes its length, she always has done, and likes to comb her fingers through the locks. Lauren likes it softness and would always use her fingers to comb the top strands, giving enough pressure to provide a massage with her fingertips.

Her body is nothing like Lauren’s either. Abbey’s tall and thin, her figure had always screamed model. Lauren’s imperfectly perfect. I would change nothing about her body though I assume she’d change many.

Lauren.

My heart jumps almost at the realisation.

My mind always goes back to Lauren – my amazing girlfriend. My amazing girlfriend who knows nothing of what I’m currently telling an ex-girlfriend. How fucked up is that?

I pull away from Abbey when the tears subside. Thinking about Lauren and the current situation made me more startled than sad. I wipe carefully at my skin beneath my eyes, remembering the amount of make-up I had applied this morning for my sister’s birthday party. The make-up that is no doubt smudged and smeared across my face from the fucking tears. Lauren was almost successful in convincing me not to wear any make-up. I would never be able to do that, especially at a social gathering where I was also dressing up, it wouldn’t seem right. But with little kisses and words of pure adoration, she almost convinced me that I would look beautiful without any. But then I saw how beautifully she applied her make-up and I could only call her a hypocrite, hit her softly in the chest and march toward my bedroom to apply my own, leaving the woman and her adorable giggle sounding from the kitchen.

“You were crying one minute and now you’re smiling. What’s gotten into you?”

“Abbey, I’m so fucked.” I’ve told her now. I’ve told her something I’ve only been able to tell Dinah. I chuckle slightly at my own fucked up situation and stand from the stool, walking across toward the counter and collapsing my arms onto its surface, my head following in suit. As does she. Abbey follows me toward the counter and rests her hand on my lower back, stroking slightly in encouragement for me to stand up.

“Not that I’m also shocked and a little upset if I’m honest but why are you so distraught over this? Is it because you’ve cheated on Lauren?”

“What? I didn’t cheat on Lauren!”

Maybe I didn’t think about the outburst much. I hear the accusation that I’ve cheated and I immediately jump to defend myself. I would never cheat on Lauren. But of course it looks that way and telling her about Lauren’s condition just isn’t an option. “No, I didn’t cheat on Lauren. A couple of months back we had a little break and I got drunk and slept with some random guy,” I try to explain, palms already sweating through the blatant lie – she’s my ex-girlfriend for God’s sake, she knows I’m gay.