Professor C (camren)

18 - Aftertaste

There was a sense of pride surging through Camila's veins when she reduced the panel appraising her to seemingly mindless bobble heads, nodding at her every word. Her conceit had only been magnified when she answered question after question without missing a beat - only pausing for dramatic effect as if to taunt whoever questioned her genius.

She'd been too consumed in the subject of her dissertation for years to carelessly stumble upon a single word. Failing at the one thing she'd devoted her life to post-Lauren would have taken a toll on her, and her rage would have been unimaginable.

Camila relished in that exalting feeling while it lasted.

While the shield of her amazing Economics prowess remained intact, her mind was hindered; kept from wandering. She clung to it to distance herself from the emotional turmoil that had been plaguing her for years on end because this time, she had no one to blame but herself.

But it wasn't like Camila could only live and breathe with only her profession.

Unfortunately, reality was inescapable.

It's just funny how a single decision could drastically shape the future.

Sinu and Alejandro never pressured their daughter into leaving Lauren. Their opinions weren't even solicited; unlike Camila's relationship with Janette Zack, where they had forcefully demanded its end. Meanwhile, they loved Lauren despite the rough start and even stayed in touch with the young psychologist – maintaining a much healthier relationship.

In a way, Camila's autonomy had been a nuisance. Had her parents told her to stay with Lauren and mend what was broken, she would have. And at the time, Camila expected Lauren to understand, to unravel the tangles that were plaguing her.

But she left.

And Camila wanted to pin the blame entirely on Lauren but facts were against her. It was she who instigated the downfall of their relationship and never attempted to make a change. She had watched Lauren in despair, dreadfully trying to get through to her until hope had been washed out by her tears.

On the day Camila packed her bags and hauled everything to Indiana, she had turned her back on many things, on many people and essentially, on the life that her aching heart wanted.

She just wasn't ready for it at the time.

To her, she was leaving an empty apartment with memories she couldn't live with; memories that would only haunt her and pulverize the shards of her broken heart.

Tragically, she was experiencing the bitter aftertaste of her decision.

-

Camila was in a daze when she boarded her car.

It was definitely not because of the success of her dissertation, which she was supposed to slightly revise before she could hand it back to her own professor for publication; made available to academic institutions and the general public as a reference to similar studies. She could not help but feel as though she should have felt more sense of accomplishment, and that her thirst for greatness would have been quenched in the slightest.

But Camila concurred how her drive had only been fueled by revenge; by showing Lauren what she turned her back on when she left Camila in bed almost nine years prior.

The problem was, revenge wasn't satisfying but Camila had nothing to hold onto to remember who she was. It was that or merely accept an abysmal life she designed for herself.

Camila was unknowingly navigating her vehicle towards her home. A human being may just have an autopilot setting considering it hadn't occurred to her that her body was leading her away from Lauren's apartment. It was her unconscious desire to delay their meeting, probably preserving more of her dignity and congregating more of her guts despite her remorse.

And the truth of the matter is, she wanted to spend a generous time with Lauren; she just needed courage and the audacity to even ask for it. Reading Lauren's cagy text messages was only making it worse but Camila had been anticipating one every hour, and each would be firewood being fed a flame that was quickly morphing into a wildfire.

She ended up contemplating on her situation with a lit cigarette, maybe three out in her home office balcony, just staring at the setting sun albeit the chilling breeze that had made her shiver far too many times than she acknowledged.

Camila cursed herself when she noticed that smoke had stuck to her clothes and hair, leading to an unnecessary time wasted in the shower. She wouldn't have cared for anyone else's opinions but she felt as though Lauren didn't approve of her smoking.

Of course, she didn't. Dinah couldn't even contain her distaste or the way her nose would subtly crinkle the moment Camila would reach for a stick.

She dawdled in her stupor, mildly deciding on changing into sweatpants and concealing her old shirt with a hoodie, and proceeded to pack Elf some pajamas as she anticipated him being asleep the moment she'd be brave enough to face Lauren.

Without much thought, a knapsack and a bottle of beautifully aged wine, Camila had driven to a flower shop and was parked right in front of it. The rational part of her had every intention of bringing something to show her gratitude to the psychologist for taking her foster child in.

That was until she caught what she was doing, compelling her to make another trip as she considered just how inappropriate it was to give her ex-girlfriend flowers.

In reality, it wasn't. She just didn't deem it fit.

Lauren could see it another way...and that might not have been unwelcomed.

Fruits seemed to have been an odd present. Lauren wasn't sick. And so, Camila wandered to The Chimney and bought lemon meringue pie; two orders of them for Lauren...and herself, and a cup of espresso as she waited, which only made her heart race apart from the storm of her overthinking.

Caffeine only worsened her restlessness and sitting was becoming such a task.

Camila was a mess, and she acknowledged it because she craved Lauren but she was terrified of her at the same time.

But Lauren seemed to take her to nirvana with the slightest touch, and that fact was a much harder pill to swallow. Her warmth was unlike any other and her scent was the professor's heaven.

Camila's mind was reeling and she was certain she was experiencing inner turmoil that her body language had been outwardly expressing; their employees had sensed something off about her and walking on eggshells had just taken a new meaning.

She felt as though she was smothered by her thoughts, forcing her apprehensive heart to race and her lungs to compensate for its breathtaking demands. She could hear her pulse in her ears, and it was alarming.

And no matter what she did, nothing seemed to have worked. She wasn't calmer nor was her anxiety any less compelling no matter how fast her knees bounced or how many trips she took around the block subsequently.

She just hadn't realized how her body missed Lauren just as much as her heart and soul did. But god, did she crave the bliss she tasted when she held Lauren that morning.

Regardless, it was getting late but she was never worried about her foster child's wellbeing. Elf was in such loving hands and Camila would admittedly trust anybody's life on Lauren.

It was nearing 8:00 when Camila successfully dragged herself into the brick building and up the sixth floor with a backpack over one shoulder and two sturdy paper bags containing the pies and wine in one hand. She was as ready as she could be; and "ready" may not have been an appropriate adjective.

Taking a deep breath, Camila swallowed as much oxygen to fill her lungs and promptly expelled air in a huff. She raised a clumsily fisted hand only to notice how it shook before colliding with the timber structure three times.

The quiet thud of footsteps was amplified when Camila held her breath. Her body was enduring a chilling storm with the lack of air flow, and her irrepressible nerves but she could not hear her pulse anymore, which was good. But in its place was a ringing noise that was far too irritating and blood curling than a raging pulse that Camila blamed on her strong coffee.

She contemplated on just running down the hall and pretending that none of it ever happened. But before she could even think further, which was severely exhausting at that point, the door wasn't in the way anymore and in its place was a drained looking Lauren whose green eyes slowly brightened at the sight of the disheveled professor.

Camila watched the light crawl back to Lauren's face, reclaiming its place; beaming like the bright and mighty sun. From Lauren's perspective, she was watching a similar scene unfold. Only that, instead of exhaustion, she found the dark cloud of fear and uncertainty dissipating.

The tension that both were wired to expect arose, the exacting blaze of their veiled love made itself known with the way their chests pounded and skin prickled with warmth and intense exhilaration.

Camila's pride and anger was slowly losing its power.

"Camila. Come in!" Lauren muttered with as much enthusiasm as she could suppress but her words were gentle and welcoming, lulling the professor's nerves significantly.

"Hey." Camila mumbled quietly; her voice nothing more than a breath. "Thank you."

She watched Lauren step aside to allow her in and promptly closed the door, quietly working on steadying the rhythm of her heart to no avail. She hadn't seen anything else but the sight of the woman she loved in sweatpants and a tank top with her brunette tresses gracefully undulating down beyond her bra line.

It had always been Camila's favorite look on her.

Lauren was staggeringly beautiful without a trace of make-up masking her features, perfume clouding her scent and clothes that were uncomfortably restricting at the expense of comfort.

All the while, the psychologist wore a small smile, which had a subtle twinkle of glee; insignificant enough so as not to spook a weary Camila. But no matter her approach, Camila was forced to take a sharp breath when the grin was directed at her; prompting her to take a small step backwards.

"Uh...Elf's sleeping." Lauren awkwardly pointed a thumb to her room. She hadn't realized how nervous she was at the thought of Camila in her apartment, and the probability of her ex-girlfriend scrutinizing the small place. "I'll just...um...go get him."

"Is he alone?" Taking a small leap, Camila suddenly asked; noticeably tensed but halted Lauren effectively.

Camila would reason that she came for answers and she was going to get them. It was much easier to admit to curiosity that the desire to linger in Lauren's essence.

"No, Pebble is in there with him." Lauren gently shook her head, rubbing her suddenly sweaty palms against the soft fabric of her sweats. "No one could watch her. Rob has a group project due before spring break; two, actually and I offered to keep her tonight."

"One would be from me." Camila laughed awkwardly, averting understanding gaze. It was idiotic to assume that Lauren would judge her for assigning a project; it was her job, for crying out loud. "But that's really sweet of you."

"She's grown on me. Elf, too. They're good kids."

"They are." She nodded aimlessly, her vision still wandering elsewhere as if Lauren was a bright source of light and her glare would blind Camila.

But Camila was grateful Lauren didn't ask her where she had been and what took her so long. Stuttering an answer out would have been all the more embarrassing amid the predicament. She wasn't a skilled liar but she couldn't just divulge on her reasons without stomping on her already injured pride.

Camila's attention was diverted towards the items in her numbing hand, realizing just how much heavier they had gotten. Frankly, she wouldn't have remembered them without her discomfort. She was just too busy gawking at her gorgeous ex and congregating her guts while internally losing her bearings that everything had become insignificant.

"Here. I...I got them for you." She raised her hand and offered her gifts to the psychologist whose smile was riddled with confusing, and because of that Camila definitely had to make sure she didn't misunderstand her intentions. "I thought that just thanking you isn't enough for caring for Les."

"Thank you. You really didn't have to." Lauren accepted the bags despite her little comment. She could easily make out what they were judging by the inscriptions on the material.

"I wanted to."

The stillness of the night soon took over, engulfing the space the former couple inhabited. The insignificant rumble of the air-conditioning system and the distant noise of what seemed to be a couple arguing coupled Camila's determined pulse, which she noticed to have slowed down to a comfortable pace; a breathable pace.

She unconsciously began rocking herself on her feet as she tried to phrase her next words appropriately, unconsciously tapping onto Lauren's heart at how adorable she looked with the slight discomfort that crossed her features. In that state, Camila gave off a youthful glow that reminded the psychologist of the much younger version of her former lover; the well-mannered but goofy teenager, who smothered Lauren with love.

Camila hadn't quite comprehended what the return of Lauren's last name meant for her. She was merely floating in its reemergence but her curiosity was feral. In the turmoil of her mind, Camila wanted to know why and she selfishly wanted to know what it meant for her and Lauren.

And for the first time, there wasn't any hint of guilt when a glimmer of hope bubbled within her; save for the part of her that ached for Elf. Camila could just imagine his confusion, not to mention him perceiving it as a threat of his displacement if Camila's marriage to Luca ever failed.

But she was certain that she and Lauren needed to heal first before venturing into a shared journey once more – if the thought ever occurred to Lauren. It was much easier to admit to the persistent flame of her love for Lauren than answer the question on whether or not they could still trust each other.

"If you don't mind my asking, why is your name on the door?" Camila uncomfortably and unnecessarily adjusted the strap over her shoulder.

Now more than ever, she feared the look on Lauren's face. The psychologist could view her query in a menagerie of ways but Camila was convinced she will have irked her ex-girlfriend, who would accuse her of intruding.

At least, that's what she would have done if the roles were reversed.

In all honesty, it saddened Camila how her predisposition has morphed into wickedness and anticipating the worst in people. In the last eight years, she'd assumed that those who have helped her only extended their hands in her aid while expecting something in return. She never believed in goodwill any more that it took her months to accept Luca's proposal of a new life after she wasted her time with Milo and alcohol.

But of all the scenarios Camila anticipated, she never expected a quiet chuckle.

"I work there." Lauren jested and when Camila looked up with her impatience burdening her forced smile, she was met with a full blown grin that stirred her belly into releasing the most spectacular butterflies.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know." Lauren concurred and for some miraculous reason, her smile never dropped. "It's kind of a long story."

Camila's hopes were quickly murdered when she perceived Lauren's response as being evasive. Who was she to even ask anyway? Any right she had to even ask for Lauren's two cents had been diminished the instant she showed her cruelty on the day they met again. The constant cold shoulder, the fluctuating cordiality and the sudden outbursts practically made her unworthy of the psychologist's time.

But Camila insisted that she cared for Lauren and she always will. If Lauren was going through a rough time in her separation from Mr. Tremaine, Camila would instantly jump to her aid; comfort her through it and maybe steer her away from the vices that she once was drowning in.

Then again, she could not force her affection if Lauren didn't want it – if she didn't need it.

The look of disappointment in Camila's features startled Lauren. She was used to Camila being adamant about erasing their past and pretending to be complete strangers albeit the little glimpses that would c***k her façade that she assumed she'd never tap into her empathetic heart.

Lauren had convinced herself long ago that she deserved Camila's wrath because the pain she endured when their ties had been completely severed was the most excruciating. But it seemed as though they were forming a new bond or the rope had never been completely cut.

And unlike Camila, Lauren had no trouble admitting her desire to spend time with Camila to herself, at least.

And in a surge of courage, she dared to ask and was comforted by the fact that they did have a pressing issue to discuss, the one concerning Elf.

"I can tell you all about it over dinner? Have you had dinner? I have something else I need to talk to you about. We can let Elf sleep it off for a bit."

"Sure." Camila quickly retorted, playing her enthusiasm off by a very immature shrug.

She was undoubtedly relieved and still attempted to look indifferent, but indifferent had thrown itself out the window on its own a long time ago. It probably didn't accompany Camila up the steps to begin with.

Lauren informed Camila she could hang her things on the coat rack before leading her deep into her tiny apartment. The thought of Camila traversing through the space reaffirmed her sudden decision to meticulously clean everything from top to bottom the previous weekend despite it being a metaphor for a new start.

Just like Camila, Lauren worried about her ex-girlfriend's insight.

But Camila wasn't scrutinizing the persistent ink stain near the foot of the divider, the missing couch and the indentation of its feet on the carpet, the bedlam of coloring materials and sheets of Pebble and Elf's atop the coffee table or the coagulating droplets of cheese sauce atop the stove.

The professor was enduring a chilling wave of nostalgia that seeped into her skin and slammed forcefully against her weary heart. Everything was transporting Camila back to a similar apartment; the one she shared with Lauren for a year and the place they both intended to live in for the next four years of their college life.

There went her heart; picking up pace and slamming with every intention to inflict pain and hinder her breathing. She had convinced herself she had grieved over her failed relationship with Lauren long ago. She'd spent months bawling her eyes out amid the momentary breaks given to her by the intoxicating essence of alcohol and Milo's mouthwatering body.

But it seemed as though being in a place Lauren lived in awakened the girl that had just gotten her heart broken, scrambling to put the miniscule pieces back to no avail. Lauren's apartment had picked at the scabs of the wounds they inflicted upon each other and made new cuts to bleed over them.

Camila could just feel her tears of unparalleled anguish arise with the way that her nose flushed and throat constricted. The corners of her eyes were prickling and moisture had begun to form a layer over her brown pools until Lauren spoke suddenly.

"Oh, shoot. I only have mac and cheese. I wasn't expecting company." Lauren groaned as she set the paper bags on the kitchen counter, suppressing her desire to just slap a hand to her forehead with her disappointment and embarrassment. She could not possibly offer her 28-year-old ex a dish she made for the two kids sleeping in her room. "I can...call a restaurant and pick the food up. What would you like?"

"Mac and cheese." Camila retorted proudly despite the mild tremor in her voice, prompting her to clear her throat.

"Okay, then." Lauren retorted in a chuckle, sighing with great relief.

Her own miniscule adversity and caginess around her ex-girlfriend prompted her to allow Camila to her thoughts while she retrieved a wine opener and two glasses from one of her cabinets. It didn't stop her from profusely apologizing for the pasta that had stop spinning in the microwave oven but Camila had a reassurance for every single one of her concerns.

Of all the things that was wrong in Lauren's apartment in the psychologist's perspective, Camila only focused on the barren space that made her refrigerator shine. Despite the utter lack of picture frames that would contain a stilled memory, the cooling machine had a menagerie to boost.

Camila smiled when she found Pebble's little drawing next to one of Elf's judging by the object being a green dinosaur. There was a multitude of pictures ranging from an old Jauregui family picture to a Polaroid of Lauren with Pebble. Her eyes scanned the few updated ones including one of Dinah's puckering her lips, Mike and Clara with Taylor in the middle and Christopher with his small family.

Apart from the light of bliss that touched her heart, another prominent feeling made itself known to Camila; longing.

Camila hadn't spoken to her parents in a while; at least, in the way the she used to. She'd only call them on their birthdays and during the holidays, and their conversation would die down after meager questions as "how are you doing" and "how's the weather".

The Cabellos had been drowning in their guilt for their past actions that they felt as if they had no right to ask for more than the time Camila had given them. They haven't been the best parents to her, and Camila had proven just how she could survive without them.

Camila would never admit to it but she missed that sense of security, that unending river of love that made her believe she could do anything and be everything she could ever imagine.

And she did; her years in Indiana were never wasted.

But her success seemed to have been at the expense of profound human relationships. She even struggled to connect with the pure soul in Elf, when she and Sofia had a precious bond.

In the end, Camila had everything...but everything else she wanted the most.

"Christopher has kids?" Camila queried disbelievingly, her incredulity successfully communicated to the amused psychologist, who was approaching with two glasses of the red wine Camila brought. "How old is he now? Like 27?"

"Almost. And yeah, he has two." Lauren nodded, taking a small sip and appreciating the way its bold taste coated her taste buds. It was just the way she liked it. "Mikey, he was named after my dad, he's four and precious little Timmy is one."

"Wow." Camila breathed, resting the rim of the glass against her lips; busy processing the years that had gone by. She left for college when Sofia was in elementary and her little sister was finally in high school, and they hadn't seen each other beyond pictures.

Camila hadn't considered the aftermath of her decision to disappear and how it would affect her friends and family but at the moment, Sofia was all she ever thought about. She wondered how she coped in the daunting years that they hadn't spent together. She figured it was hard on her considering she practically raised Sofi.

She began to beat herself up for not being there on her first day of high school, of middle school and wondered if the askew standards of perfections established by the superficial had gone to her head. She feared that Sofia might find herself to be inadequate or if she allowed bullies to convince her she was whatever ugly picture they painted her to be.

Oh, what an irony it would be if her sister was being tormented and there she was, frightening everyone in her path.

"So, how's Luca? Aunt Patty?" Lauren's voice sounded off amid the blaring sound of her thoughts, thankfully yanking her out of the flood that she was drowning in.

Camila physically shook her head in an attempt to focus on the present. It was only then that she realized that Lauren had gone back to reaching into cabinets for plates and silverware. She wondered where her manners went or the hauntingly poised exterior with an eye reserved for all the commotions that surrounded her.

But Camila was never really composed around Lauren. The feelings the psychologist evoked from her were in the extremes. Lauren had the capacity to magnify her emotions and rattle her down to her core, and that was what Camila loved and hated about the relationship they shared.

And at the moment, she hated it because she missed being happy and being miserable was exacting. But in the end, the only difference between bliss and agony was herself. Her choices in the past couple of years hadn't been all that intellectual or rational.

Then again, feelings never involved reason.

"That woman will probably live to a thousand. She's crazy happy and I love that about her." Camila chuckled quietly, grateful for the subject change and the actual subject itself. Aunt Patty held a special place in her heart and her memories of the woman were all in a positive light. "Oh, and Luca's cheating on me with Dinah." She was amused by Lauren's reaction, observing her brows climb up her forehead in an incredulous manner; not quite reading the hilarity in her words. "I'm kidding. They've just been inseparable, which is odd considering the first night at home."

Lauren quietly laughed at the memory of Dinah's hostility over the dinner Camila invited both of them to. She still could not believe how her friend acted that night, and as much as she'd like to scold her for the admittedly inappropriate and insolent behavior, she was aware that the Polynesian was fighting for her honor.

"Luca's charming and Dinah is...Dinah." She rocked her head from side to side, wearing a dumb grin as she gave up on trying to find an adjective that would encapsulate Dinah's colorful character. "They're in good hands. But let's just hope they don't get each other in trouble."

"I'd be surprised if they didn't get in trouble." Camila noted to which Lauren agreed instantly.

The former couple shared a timid laugh and it was then that Camila insisted on helping her set the table. Both were enduring the weakening grip of nostalgia that reminded them of how it used to be, and the organized chaos they established in their tiny apartment. There had always been order despite the commotion and they had set a routine involving both of them in their household upkeep.

Camila could just sense her emotions going haywire as anger began to bubble in her. Her pride had begun to fuel her insistence that Lauren could still have chosen to stay with her despite how ridiculously unreasonable she was at the time.

It was getting exhausting and the sigh she expelled when she finally settled in her small seat was of utmost relief that Lauren only smiled about. It was a microscopic table compared to those they had in the Clausnitzer estate but Camila always preferred an intimate setting when sharing a meal with the people she loved.

-

They ate in respectable silence apart from Camila's sending Lauren some compliments on her cooking skills. It had been quite a long time since she'd been blessed with food her ex-girlfriend prepared and it was admittedly one of the things she looked forward to every morning.

It was halfway through their dinner when Lauren excused herself to retrieve another bottle of wine – white and sparkling this time - and came back with a freshly opened one with its mist clouding the finish.

"How did your presentation go?" Lauren queried but her eyes remained onto Camila's glass as she worked on refilling it before her own. She subsequently handed the replenished crystal back to the economist who cradled the item in both hands, mumbling her gratitude.

"They accepted it and handed it back to me with corrections for revision. I can practically publish it after."

"Wow! Congrats!" She expressed with utmost glee and excitement but was never really stunned at the knowledge of her former lover's successful conquests. She'd always admired Camila for her intelligence. "Not that I'm surprised but still, that's amazing!"

"Thank you." Camila shyly dropped her gaze to her lap, sensing the heat prickling her cheeks. Hearing the pride in Lauren's voice made her heart tumble.

It was hilarious how they could hold conversations as if no altercations ever happened or cold shoulders and pretending to be strangers. In that instant, Camila decided to just let the night unfold by itself and allow herself to be happy to be with Lauren despite the unsaid words that have to be shared some time in the future.

She decided to pretend again; pretend that all was well in the world that they both existed in.

"This isn't your first published work, right?"

"It's going to be my third but the first one was a collaboration."

"Wow..." Lauren breathed, nodding aimlessly as she processed the information. She set the wine bottle down and took a moment to guzzle some of her golden beverage, sighing in contentment soon after. "I would ask if you were nervous but that would probably be the stupidest question."

"No. No, it's not." Camila waved the notion off, smiling at Lauren's little predicament. She had traded the glass with her fork to continue devouring the creamy dish she was enjoying. "But I was nervous because I didn't want to do everything again with my jobs in the way."

"Yeah, I understand."

"What about you?" She leaned in the table, genuinely eager to learn about Lauren's day – or days, weeks, months and years. "Done with all your juggling? Interviews, regular work, babysitting; everything the amazing psychologist has been doing."

Lauren chuckled fondly as she shook her head. She welcomed the new atmosphere that settled upon them and she was loving the subtle banter that hid compliments of their almost heroic feats. She sat back in her seat, stabbing a couple of macaroni with her fork and stopped when she had speared four of them.

"Yeah. I only have regular work and occasional babysitting left."

"That's good. You looked exhausted these past weeks."

"I did?" Lauren's eyes widened but it wasn't in the same vicinity as being affronted; being drained was to be expected with the amount of work she fit in her eight-hour work day. She was simply surprised to learn that Camila even noticed her and what she had been up to.

"Yeah. But you still...looked...b-beautiful." Camila quietly mumbled, unconsciously drawing various shapes on her plate with her fork; her coping mechanism. She had to, otherwise, she'd melt beneath Lauren's affectionate gaze. "Gorgeous even."

Camila was petrified of expressing her approval of her ex-girlfriend's enviable features that she admired so much but she felt as though she had to reassure Lauren she didn't look like a "hot mess". Truthfully, Lauren remained to be the most beautiful and no matter the number of work she had to tackle each day, she wore a smile on her face.

Camila admired that about her.

"Thanks." Lauren bashfully acknowledged, escorting her food to her mouth and eating it just to have something to take her mind off of her blushing cheeks.

"You're welcome."

Camila took another bite of her meal. It was only then that she could erase the pride-riddled grin she wore when she noticed how her words affected Lauren. Without her selfish sentiments in the way, Camila was amazed at their dynamic and how not much had changed between them and their connection. She wondered if that was the reason behind her inability to completely erase Lauren from her thoughts because she was convinced that Lauren could never completely vacate her heart.

Lauren may have been swimming in the same illusion as Camila considering that she did not have it in her to stop the economist when she decided to take their empty dishes to the sink and commence washing them after finishing both the macaroni dish and lemon meringue pie. Instead, she helped her gather everything and cleaned the table, leaving the nearly empty bottle of wine and the two glasses.

Ultimately, she settled right by Camila's side, ready to accept the soaped and rinsed plates with a drying towel in her hand.

It should sadden them that their habits had not completely died down and that it seemed as though years never separated them but they chose to rejoice in what they discovered. And it wasn't such a terrible idea to choose to be happy for once.

"Is something wrong with Leslie?" Camila handed a dripping plate to Lauren.

"I found out he's being bullied." Lauren quietly and regretfully admitted. Her voice was soft so as to significantly decrease the blow of her news as she stared at Camila, gauging her reaction. "At five, I know. Apparently, there's this kid, who made fun of his hair and his name, and then went on to just mock him, saying he's gay."

Camila was stilled by the revelation and if she listened intently, she would have heard her heart shatter as it excruciatingly plummeted down an abyss. Her stomach was stirred and twisted in knots as dread settled upon her body. Her reaction had been more or less similar to Lauren's but her rage would have flared.

The possibility of her swallowing the bully and whoever permitted it would have been high but she'd choose to chew on their bones and torture them until they begged for death.

Her fury was powerful and alarming but it wasn't just the disdain for the cruelty her foster kid was exposed to; it was her own shame and incapacity to shield him from the unkind world. She never mistreated the boy nor did she verbally abused him but she never gave him the kind of love he deserved, and had not been attentive to his needs.

Camila hated herself for not giving him a hug when he was sad or a little kiss to show him that he was being a good kid. Most of all, she hated herself for being selfish; for overlooking another person's needs to cater to her own resentment for something completely unrelated to Elf nor was it his fault.

Camila never allowed herself some slack; the kind that would pardon her for her incapacity to care for another because her heart was temporarily out of order and taken hostage by misery.

Regardless, remorse was an atrocious and repulsive feeling.

"He didn't want to talk to me about it. I kinda just overheard him talk to Pebble. I just figured he didn't want to talk to an adult yet."

"That was why he wanted a haircut or he wears hats." Camila mumbled to herself, eyes aimlessly staring at the wall before her. Her grip on the second plate and the sponge tightened as her subconscious feared accidentally dropping either. "And I still call him Leslie..."

"He's fine." Lauren reassured her, adjusting her stance so she was leaning against the counter. She offered a small smile to the disconcerted professor, who had finally stared back at her. "He just doesn't understand why some kids are rude. Don't worry too much. I'm sure we'll figure something out."

The seemingly careless use of the pronoun didn't go unnoticed by Camila. It didn't matter how Lauren phrased it but the thought that she'd have Lauren to share her burden with calmed her down significantly.

It helped that the psychologist appeared to have been in complete control of the situation and just seeing her interact with those two kids who were asleep on the other room let Camila know that there couldn't have been a better companion.

In her musings, she had only realized that she was talking to a psychologist who worked as a school counselor with a multitude of students coming to her for the most sensitive of situations. And so, Camila smiled because she found it hilarious and because she was with Lauren.

"So, what's your professional opinion, Miss Lauren?" Camila struggled to contain her grin and ended up biting onto her lips for good measure.

Meanwhile, Lauren threw her head back as she let out a fond laugh. Camila was basking in the melodious sound, practically drowning herself in its soothing quintessence. Her heavy heart seemed to have been cradled by the gleeful noise, pacifying it enough to prevent it from wreaking havoc in Camila's chest.

"Let him rest for the night, Professor." Lauren bantered with a small smirk that ignited a chill to trace Camila's spine.

The sexy beast had made itself known.

"Right." Camila concurred with a nod.

"I would suggest to just take the least aggressive route as far as prying answers out of him. Drop little hints to encourage him to speak and see both you and Luca as his friends more than authority figures while you wait for him to come to you." Lauren explained simply, noticing how Camila's features dropped and was riddled by insecurity. "He'll come to you. He already admires you."

Lauren assured Camila with such conviction, and Camila believed Lauren with every ounce of her being.

-

By the time they finished their task, they had opened the third bottle of wine. It was probably not the smartest idea but Camila was being a little conceited, reasoning that brandy was nothing to her and Lauren figured she was a seasoned wine drinker.

And they were right. The worst that the alcohol had done to them was strip them of their inhibitions but not enough for them to not know what they were doing. It was only adding a little spice to their night.

As the night went on, the former couple marked off topics that they were supposed to discuss that night plus some trivial conversations that left them giggling. Lauren's main concern being Elf had been addressed but Camila's wasn't; she still didn't know why Lauren shed her husband's last name.

"I'd invite you to sit on the couch but it's in my room." Lauren voiced, c*****g her head towards her almost empty living room. She only wanted them to be comfortable. Her mini dining room set wasn't equipped to support their backs; the splat was severely uncomfortable. "I had to make sure neither kids would fall off the small bed."

It seemed as though her words had fallen upon deaf ears of if they went through one and slipped out the other. Camila merely took the bottle and her glass and brought them over to the coffee table, where she sat on the ground and faced the sliding glass doors that were concealed by a curtain. She was careful not to ruin any of the masterpieces that the children had made and she took notice of one specific sketch that was atop the pile.

"I'm fine here." Camila lazily grinned at Lauren, who was still on the other side of the room, quite baffled by the turn of events.

Frankly, Camila didn't care where they were or if she was comfortable so long as she found answers to questions that were burning holes in her tired brain.

Despite her amused grin, Lauren shook her head as her last defiant act but followed the economist anyway. She set her glass down onto the coffee table and bent over, searching for a particular drawing that she wanted to show Camila.

"So, this is yours." Lauren pushed the certain sheet towards the professor and sat opposite her with a grunt. She observed as Camila scrutinized the picture with an adoring glimmer in her eyes. "Pebble was proudly telling me it was for an 'Auntie Mila' I didn't know of."

Lauren laughed quietly at how adorable Pebble was and how she raised her small arms with her excitement. She was a zealous little thing and was very sweet, too. Lauren decided that Camila needed that feisty firecracker in her life to make it a little more interesting.

After all, sparks shine the brightest beneath the darkness.

Lauren tidied the table up; putting crayons back in their boxes and piling the sheets of paper up, and set them all aside to her right – away from the wine bottle and Camila's glass. She wasn't bothered by the mess the two kids had down to the desk; she was more worried about accidentally spilling anything on them.

She reached for the wine bottle and again, refilled their glasses to the brim; subtly staring at her ex-girlfriend who was still taking Pebble's little present in. Those brown pools were filled with wonder as if she was staring at a million dollar piece. But to Camila, it was worth more than money; it was priceless.

Lauren found it almost hilarious how she was enjoying some wine with Camila. It was odd that she'd sulk and mope around with it while her thoughts would linger in one subject: Camila. She never thought that she'd be sharing it with the woman – she almost didn't believe it.

"Can I keep it?" Camila pressed the sheet of paper against her chest, smiling excitedly at the psychologist who had just taken another sip of her wine.

"You never had to ask." Lauren waved her off with a slight shake of the head. "Are you sure you're comfortable here?"

"I am, Miss Lauren. It's not that bad." Camila mockingly shot as she set the piece of paper aside, much to Lauren's surprise and amusement.

The former couple wondered where the ease all came from. They hadn't been as unimpeded around each other since meeting again back in January. It could have been the alcohol or their hearts that were too exhausted to still be in pain.

But they were actually talking, and that was odd to begin with.

"So..." Camila trailed off, nervously tracing the rim of her glass with the tip of her finger; changing the atmosphere significantly. She observed Lauren raise inquisitive brows, peering over her own crystal as she patiently waited for Camila to continue speaking while gulping some more of her favorite poison. "Jauregui?"

Camila's hesitation was apparent but Lauren could not detect any judgment. If anything, she could sense some sort of hope or relief riddling her compassionate eyes with the fact that she was not legally bound by another person, whose gender Camila was still not even certain of.

It was odd but Lauren assumed that she'd have the same sentiment should she learn that Camila had dissolved her own marriage.

Meanwhile, Lauren wasn't intending on withholding anything from her former lover. She'd always loved honesty in its entirety; open and truthful communication had always been something she valued to cultivate a relationship that was meant to last. Besides, Camila was her first best friend, the first profound friendship she ever formed and their relationship was all the more special because of it.

Ironically, towards the end of their relationship, she and Camila barely talked.

"I mean, I know I have no right to ask but-" Camila began to defend herself, setting the glass back down onto the table to raise both hands to show that she meant no harm or intrusion but was quickly interrupted by Lauren's nodding.

The situation was instantly critical and Camila's eagerness to know was untamable as she painstakingly allowed Lauren to take her wine glass from her lips and secure it with both hands. She fought against her own frustration and desire to just shake the answers right out of Lauren, and the heat that suddenly prickled her body was only making her agitation worse.

Camila felt like she was a ticking time bomb and Lauren was the only person who could diffuse her. She was battling remorse, shame and her own pride just to attain the nerve to even ask Lauren for the details of her personal life that Camila had stepped out of years prior.

"Yeah, that." Lauren breathed, dropping her gaze down to the rich red liquid filling her wine glass that she held atop her folded legs. "My husband, well, ex-husband and I, we've been broken up for a while and I've only been just waiting until the ruling came; the last hearing, which was just last week. And while it was happening, I couldn't just drop his name."

There was a misplaced yet tranquil smile upon her lips that Camila couldn't make sense of. She figured that a woman undergoing a painful process of letting go wouldn't have had the same piece of mind that looked to have settled upon Lauren.

Camila was taken aback. She wouldn't have deduced that same explanation on her own if she tried. In her consuming concoction of rage and penitence, she hadn't taken the time to just observe Lauren and learn of her afflictions. She'd been so wounded of the thought that her ex-girlfriend had complete control of her life while she could not even go a day without a stick laced with nicotine – the addiction she picked up in her quest to completely let go of Lauren, which in itself had been fruitless.

It was a conundrum to her because Lauren seemed happy, or maybe that was just an illusion her broken heart projected to her exhausted mind.

But Camila would have wanted to be there for the hearing; she would have stood by Lauren and offer whatever kind of support a former flame could give.

"It was him who filed for the annulment around December the year before last. That year happened to be the same year we started dating and got married. It's still embarrassing to admit this but we dated in January and got married in October." Lauren let out a bitter laugh and the smile that curved her lips was anything but happy. "Yeah, shot gun wedding that lasted two months. What a nice marriage."

The sarcastic jab was palpable but the problem was, it was thrown like a boomerang and no matter which direction it went, it'd come back to her. Her choices in the past couple of years had been distasteful while she willingly offered her professional advice to those who needed it. At times, her putting her own life on hold in search for Camila made her question her sanity.

Then again, identifying the right route was nothing but tapping to reason but adhering to it was a lot more complicated when rationality was paired with human emotions.

Lauren would have excused her idiotic decisions if they were in the pursuit of happiness but she was miserable with Sean.

How she allowed herself mindlessly agree to a fruitless marriage with an imminent end was beyond her. The thought of their time together and the situation it put her in was self-deprecating that looking forward had been tainted by the darkness of the past; worsening her already bleak days post-Camila.

"He...wasn't really happy with our relationship because...I wasn't putting out." Lauren shrugged as if to say she had no idea what she was thinking back then. "It scars a man's ego, I guess."

She let out a sigh and bravely glanced up, finding Camila's struggle to contain her shock despite the knowledge that Lauren wasn't the best at thoroughly thinking everything. Clearly, Camila still viewed her with high regard. The professor was never patronizing despite having every bit of reason to. She'd always been understanding and the way she was reacting reminded Lauren of the two precious years they spent by each other's side.

Professor C was a frightening, blood-curdling monster but it was a veil that hid a soft-hearted soul that had all the love in the world to give.

But at the same time, Professor C was a product of adversity.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this." Lauren chuckled awkwardly, twisting the glass in her hand by the stem.

"It's okay. We used to be...close." Camila explained through a sympathetic smile. It was bittersweet to define their old relationship as an object of the past. She could acknowledge it but accepting reality was a lot harder. "I'm glad you're talking to me about this. To...you know...make it less of a burden on you. You can trust me. I promise to keep everything a secret."

"I trust you." Lauren declared affectionately, drawing a deep breath in and letting it all out with a huff, relishing in the sweet taste of relief.

"Me, too." Camila affectionately retorted albeit reluctantly, introducing the tranquility of the night momentarily as she gathered her thoughts.

Talking to Camila had relieved the burden that resided upon Lauren's heavy shoulders. Confiding in her had always had its magical touch. If Camila told her everything was going to be okay, Lauren would believe her and being anxious about anything would have been plain stupid.

Not much had changed despite the obvious since their break-up. It was still in each other that they could entrust their deepest, darkest secrets to. And being best friends was probably one of the most tragic, multiplying the agony to great extent.

Camila decided that Lauren needed some sort of physical comfort. By then, her bloodstream had been infiltrated by great amounts of alcohol that she wasn't bothered by the boundaries set by their new and unconventional relationship.

She downed the remainder of her drink and pushed herself up, sensing Lauren's furrowed brows that conveyed her confusion. Rounding the small table, Camila kept her gaze on her former lover and saw the tension dissipate when she settled right next to her.

The pace her heart was running had increased with the close proximity. Moisture had been withdrawn from her mouth and by the way Lauren ran her tongue against her lower lip, Camila was certain she was feeling it, too. They were both nervous but exhilarated; the very sentiment that would drown a person when they know they're in for a wild ride.

In a courageous feat, Camila reached to free one of Lauren's hands from holding her glass and intertwined their fingers. There was a small, reassuring smile playing at her lips but her eyes held a tenderness that Lauren had missed and yearned to see that there was a painfully beautiful twinge in her heart that sent moisture to cloud her eyes.

The pair let out a sigh at the way butterflies swirled their chests and whatever it was that nipped at their hands upon contact but it felt wonderful and they didn't want to let go. And if they were to cry, they would be happy tears.

"How are you feeling?" Camila spoke in a hushed tone; it was delicate and sweet, portraying her care for Lauren's wellbeing.

"Relieved. Happy." Lauren enumerated with a distant yet hopeful gaze. Blindly, she resigned her glass to the table and proceeded to brush her palm against her sweatpants-clad thigh. "The annulment legally erases the part where we got married. It kinda gives me a chance to start again; a do over."

"So, you technically didn't have a husband for over a year."

"That's right."

"That's good." Camila carelessly told herself in a whisper.

Lauren took a sharp breath, disbelievingly whipping her head to scrutinizing Camila, to see if she had heard her correctly. And of all the things she expected, a hand to her cheek was not one of them. Camila's silky chocolate pools intently stared at her green ones, insecurely asking for permission as she delicately ran her thumb against the soft surface of Lauren's skin.

The economist figured that is they were going to kiss, she wouldn't steal it from Lauren; she wanted her to have a choice but Camila hoped that she'd agree because it would hurt if she declined.

Reaching for Camila's cheek, Lauren nodded ever so slightly but it was all Camila needed to breathe a sigh of relief before she seized her former lover's lips and indulged in it. And all at once, the sadness that settled in their bodies had dissipated for the night; replaced by a blazing kaleidoscope of butterflies, furiously flapping their magnificent wings like hummingbirds.

They were gentle with their movements that if they were to go any faster, they would disintegrate with the way their chests expanded because their hearts were full. And with each gentle brush of their lips, they wordlessly spoke of an unabashed love that had been hidden beneath the heavy clouds of their pain.

The previous times they kissed wasn't only because alcohol had wiped away their inhibitions. It was but a sober desire made less complicated by the serum; an effective placebo that took away all the risks.

"Happy Birthday, Professor." Lauren affectionately mumbled against Camila's lips, finally allowing herself to utter the words she'd been dying to say the instant she saw Camila that morning.

And Camila was grateful she picked the right moment to because her day couldn't have been happier than sharing a kiss with Lauren.

It didn't matter if she had forgotten that it was her own birthday.

"Miss Mauwen," A sleep-ridden voice interrupted the pair, effectively pulling them apart.

Lauren stared at Camila, wide eyed and terrified of the possibility of being caught. Her chest was heaving and whatever was weakening her wasn't the same one that practically melted her down like velvety butter.

But Camila's features didn't show any sort of alarm as the one that had been contorting her own. It may have been because Elf was beneath the doorframe when he called for Lauren or the dim lighting but the bottom line was, Camila was calm.

"Mrs. Claus!" Elf exclaimed but his voice was not loud enough to wake Pebble. His reaction led Lauren to assume that he hadn't witnessed the urgent lip lock, allowing for a smile to curve her lips.

The boy hurriedly made his way between the two adults and sat on Camila's lap, hugging the woman tighter. Camila reciprocated the hug just as firmly, especially after hearing about his predicament apart from the part where she did miss her foster child. She left a couple of kisses to his head while Lauren stroked his back, at least, the parts that weren't covered by Camila's arms.

Lauren was still confused as to how the pair developed their new relationship but she was happy for them despite the slight ache in her chest; the very one that reminded her that Camila had a family.

"Are you tired? Do you want to go home now?" Camila asked lovingly but received a shake of the head.

"I don't want to leave Pebble. She's in there." Elf pointed to where Lauren's bedroom was, only pulling himself back to pleadingly look at his foster mother.

"She'll be safe with me, buddy." Lauren interjected to come to Camila's rescue, tenderly raking her fingers through her soft mane. "I'll protect her. Promise."

"But I want to sleep next to her." The boy frowned, gaze flitting between the two adults and quietly begging them to reconsider. It was almost painful to watch his heavy-eyed face crumple further to show his pain.

"You don't want to go back with Mrs. Claus?" Lauren affectionately cooed despite being on board with his request. She just did not want to overstep boundaries.

"You don't like me anymore?" Elf's frown deepened at his assumption, eyes clouding with tears that were threatening to fall and breaking the two women's hearts.

"What are you talking about?" Lauren asked as if she had heard the most ridiculous question, exaggerating the tone of her voice and tapping the tip of his nose to elicit a small giggle from the boy. "You know Miss Lauren loves you, right?"

"I love you, too, Miss Mauwen but I want to stay." Elf resolutely insisted, looking up at Camila to see if she approved. "I want to stay, Mrs. Claus but I want you to stay, too."

"We'll stay." Camila decided prompting Elf to throw his fists in the air, cheering to express his victory.

No one would be waiting for them at home, Luca and Dinah were too busy soaking up the sun in the Dominican Republic.

However, Lauren was greatly worried by the decision despite the excitement that bubbled within her at the thought of Camila spending the night. She wouldn't have had any problems if she had enough rooms or enough beds.

"Are you sure? I only have a twin bed and that old couch." Lauren dejectedly reasoned, shaking her head. "It's nothing like what you guys have..."

"It's more than enough." Camila reached for her hand again, squeezing it to calm her down. Her smile was quickly reciprocated by the psychologist, much to the boy's excitement. "If you have two other duvets, we'll be fine."

"I guess we're going to bed, then." Lauren relented with a deep sigh. She couldn't navigate her way out of the situation; especially not with her slightly inebriated senses.

She rose to her feet, asking Camila if she needed anything and received a shake of the head and a quiet "thank you." She told them that she'd be fixing their make shift bed, informing Camila that there was a spare toothbrush in the bathroom and everything in it was at her disposal.

While Lauren was busy, Camila helped change Elf into his pajamas and accompanied him to the bathroom when the boy asked if he could "pee pee." By the time they made it to the dark bedroom, Lauren was in the kitchen, drinking water and was purposely allowing Camila to put the young boy back to bed without her help.

She concluded that the pair needed time to bond and she needed her own time to brush her teeth and get ready for bed.

It hadn't occurred to either women that they were expected to sleep next to each other and were simply tending to their own businesses. And when Lauren came back, she was surprised to find Camila on the laid out duvet but quietly laid down next to her.

It was a new, familiar feeling surging within them and it was beautiful, and neither wanted to let it go despite knowing that their real lives would occur in the morning.

"Lauren," Camila suddenly whispered, adjusting to lay on her side and completely face the other woman.

Lauren had only managed to swivel her head enough when she felt Camila's minty lips pressed against her owm. Camila kissed her because her night wouldn't have been complete. She kissed her because it still stung and Lauren could easily mask the pain that had constantly tormented her.

When Lauren left, she had permanently dislodged Camila's heart and the professor's coping mechanism turned her into a cold-hearted monster who feared commitments and promises.

Meanwhile, Lauren vowed to not make the same mistakes again and was not intending on making a new one; something completely new to her. She never planned on being the most repulsive, supposedly nonexistent part of a marriage, the mistress. The title alone was making her hate herself but she chose to overlook it for the night.

She was drunk, she reasoned meekly. She wasn't.

But it was an odd night to begin with and ending it in each other's embrace was the cherry on top.

Nobody had to know.

The secrets of the night take cover beneath the darkness.

"Good night." Camila whispered, kissing Lauren again before cuddling up to her.

In Lauren's exhausted stupor, she brought Camila closer to her and planted a kiss atop her head. She held her like she was making up for the nights that she couldn't. And when she reciprocated Camila's words, she unknowingly used a nickname that neither had heard for a long while, and it was freeing.

"Good night, Camz."