Professor C (camren)

4 - Casual

It was a familiar set up, one that could very well be considered déjà vu but it was still critical.

Lauren waited with baited breath; throat suddenly blocked as the professor approached her table leisurely. Somehow, she had forgotten how to simply sag her arms in a casual way that wouldn't expose how tensed she felt. It took great strength to lock eyes and shape her lips into a "professional" smile as her resolve was shattering before her eyes. It was another challenge to keep her line of sight within the area around those seemingly exhausted olive features and not descend to the swell on her chest and the curve of her hips.

It would have been easier to allow her jaw to plunge to depths that convey her astonishment, but that was definitely unprofessional.

The professor had a problem of her own. She was walking towards the alluring hands of a trance just by the sight of those damn red lips. Of all the things that an amnesia could steal from Camila, it could not steal the memory of those luscious full lips that looked too delectable in that shade. She loved the natural pink tint, too. And Camila loved the taste of Lauren's mouth; she was craving it.

Lauren's ivory skin was the perfect contrast to accentuate her striking facial features that she could very well use to her advantage even without her knowing. Those green eyes alone were mesmerizing and extremely hypnotizing that Camila might as well float towards her.

Yup, Camila was softening up like pasta immersed in all of Lauren Jauregui-Tremaine. It may have been due to the temperature rising in the four walls of that counselor's office that agitated their skins, engulfed in abnormal warmth as tension was thick albeit the casual aura of their previous encounter.

It was supposed to be easy. Camila was supposed to keep her ex-girlfriend at arm's length and treat her just as she does with her colleagues. It just wasn't fair. She had had more than three weeks of shoving the thought green-eyed brunette back to the depths of her memories, where she was harmless and simply a part of her past.

Suddenly, she felt a rush - the kind that assured her she was still alive and that her heart was still beating - wildly, at that. It was as if the rusty hinges, bolts and screws of time had been reignited, picking up from the time before she decided to vanish.

The rush she felt was familiar; it was the same one she felt, living a life with Lauren.

Camila was dangerously close to being inhabited by her raw desires, ones that her consciousness could never jolt her away from. She was faced with a dilemma. Camila wanted to look away; no, she needed to look away, but she needed Lauren to do it first. Otherwise, she would feel weak and Camila never wanted to feel frail and pathetic; especially, not before her ex-girlfriend.

It was either surrendering to voracious hanker or accepting defeat.

The professor was losing either way. But then, a commotion in her front pocket ensued. Her phone was rattling to life, frantically ringing to signal a call coming through. Camila could not be more grateful for the intruder, who was her saving grace.

With a deep sigh of relief, she fished the device out and checked the name on display.

"I...I-I'm sorry. I have to take this." Camila apologetically muttered, not necessarily as remorseful as her feigned frown conveyed.

Lauren expectedly allowed the request, extending her arm towards the conjoined room to offer the professor some privacy which was appreciated immensely. With a nod, Camila ambled towards the specific space swiping her phone in the process. Lauren took that as a cue to descend back down - actually, crashing back down to her seat, finding herself puffing air out, welcoming the open air supplying oxygen for her lungs to consume.

It was quiet once again, the agitating kind that rendered Lauren restless. Her knee began to bounce, releasing as much tension out to the world for her body to recuperate. The suffocating pace of her brisk pulse was sending beads of sweat to form out of the pores of her chilly palms. Attempting to calm her overworked cardiovascular muscle, the drapes of her eyes fell as she drew air in, slowly. But then, Lauren slightly jumped in her seat as Camila's ostensibly loud voice pummeled through both rooms and fueling the adrenaline that was gradually vacating the counselor's system.

"What do you mean he's my son? He's yours! You brought that mutt home, begged me to adopt him and suddenly I get all the responsibilities. Just take him to school with you when you pick Leslie up. You have no choice, he doesn't have a babysitter!" Camila exclaimed, whining but with no such sign of hostility. It sounded more like a child, angered by a playmate for stealing her toy. "You're worthless! Get out of my house!"

"Mutt" and "son" should not be used in the same thought as far as Lauren was concerned. It seemed too cruel and too inhumane to consider a little boy a "mutt." That piqued her already heightened curiosity while it stabbed her heart. What had become of the person she once loved - the same one she still loved? It was excruciating. Camila might have a son, one that she may not have wanted and the person she was talking to was definitely her husband.

Lauren could only cringe at the thought of yelling at Sean Tremaine. The man may have been gentle but within him, he cradled a beast that would willingly finish a battle that was presented to him.

Lauren was aware she was eavesdropping; staying still and wary about making the slightest noise. Lauren knew it was wrong but a part of her had been preventing her from searching for a distraction. It didn't help that the room was mostly silent. All she heard was the pounding of her heart, undulating her entire body and contesting with her ex-girlfriend's voice until she spoke again.

"I don't care if it's yours, too! Go out and let him do his business first. He likes the gnome, the one with the fishing pole. Just lead him towards it and you can ditch him for all I care." The firmness in her voice wavered slightly as a small chuckle made its way through her string of words while she waited for the other person to finish talking, Lauren assumed.

"I love you, too, crappy husband."

Husband. The word stung despite having an idea of who the professor was speaking with. It was the confirmation Lauren was not necessary yearning for. Mr. Clausnitzer, the person who was awarded the privilege of calling Camila his wife and having her wear his name with pride.

That was a dream to Lauren and by the looks of it, it may stay a dream.

The slight movement at the corner of her eye, prompted Lauren to be on her feet. Her stance was shaky and she fought to recover from her despondent thoughts. She held her hands behind her back as she offered a courteous smile towards the professor who was sauntering towards the fabric chair she was situated in a couple of weeks prior.

Lauren courteously waited for Camila to take a seat before she did the same.

Camila took a deep breath upon gracefully plunging down to sit, catching a whiff of cinnamon and apple which were oddly calming. The scent prompted her to further inspect the room, looking around and finding the bright and welcoming ambience which was definitely comfortable. It was just the right temperature and the musty smell of books were quelled to a minimum.

It was no wonder that the students loved studying within the powder blue walls. Besides, having Lauren in the same room was quite appealing.

However, the play pen to one corner of the room was an awful sight that writhed Camila's heart and mercilessly murdered her gut. The thought of Lauren with a family without her conscious knowledge was already unbearable, having confirmed it was another kind of agony. But of course, she had to conceal her pain; that was what she was good at.

In her wandering eyes, Camila inspected the tidy desk; the kind that conveyed a conclusion for the day. Furrowing her brows in confusion to mask the embarrassment, she lifted her left arm and checked the time, subsequently setting it over the other on her lap.

It was only 11:40 in the morning. She figured, they only needed 15 minutes, tops.

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, it's not." Lauren assured her, shaking her head and still wearing that increasingly irritating casual grin that Camila wanted to erase one way or another.

She perched her hands on the table, lacing her hands together just as she did during their previous encounter.

"You seem like you were..." Camila muttered incredulously, inspecting Lauren's features through narrowed eyes. She could sense a lie in those limited words but decided on letting it slide. It was not her business anyway and that fact alone was unsettling. "I would have dropped by on Monday but I had to turn the first draft of my dissertation in and I had tests to concoct."

With the barrage of Camila's words came the scent of stale smoke cloaking her mouth and sure enough, it travelled through space, mixing with the speckles of dust floating in the air and caressing Lauren's nostrils. That pressed Lauren's lips to a straight line, internally cringing at the unpleasant odor that the professor seemed to be unaware of.

"Your thesis? This early?" Lauren queried curiously, careful about maintaining their boundaries that Camila had set.

She was aware of the professor's pursuit of a Ph.D. as recorded in her evidently impressive files. Files. That detail was in her files and Lauren breathed an exhale of relief, making sure it was undetected.

She, too, wanted to seem as composed as possible.

Camila shrugged. She pursed her lips while her brows rose which conveyed her - to Lauren's professional observation - evident superiority complex as if the counselor's question had an automatic answer.

"Why wait? I have a topic and I knew my way around it. It's about this company that I provide my counsel occasionally."

"Right." Lauren nodded incessantly, reaffirming herself it seemed. "If you don't mind my asking; what is it that you do apart from your teaching job as a professor?"

"I'm a financial risk analyst and an investment analyst."

"Impressive." Lauren commended with abnormal composure. She was internally intimidated by the woman before her and it didn't help that she was already in awe of her but had expected Camila's success even during their year in high school.

"I'm guessing your topic is about investment."

"Yes, it is." Camila confirmed with as much friendliness she could congregate albeit failing and was, as expected, standoffish and painfully casual. With a wave of a hand, she halted the conversation.

"Enough about me. I'm here about Mr. Harrison?"

"Of course. Yes, Scott Harrison." The counselor confirmed, slightly perking up at the mention of the troubled student. "He came in earlier this week and we were able to discuss the predicament. I would like to hear the story from your perspective first before anything."

"I'm quite certain everything he told you was true."

Camila's nonchalant response was just not normal, it was almost inhumane. Her detachment for certain emotions other than the ones she had displayed in the halls of Lafayette Community College was unsettling the psychologist and was yearning to be at her aid. The radical change was too blatant to ignore. Regardless, Lauren remained as casual and as indifferent as a school counselor should be and proceeded to ask a question with utmost interest.

"How so?"

"What did he tell you?"

"That you supposedly delivered some derogatory words at him in class. He also mentioned a particular profane word that you, again, supposedly uttered twice." Lauren recounted with no such judgment. She was merely and vaguely repeating what the student had conferred in confidence. "I took the liberty of verifying his story and...it checks out."

"Seems accurate." Camila expressed, conspicuously unaffected by what she had heard.

While others would be fearing for their jobs - bones clattering in blood-curling horror, the professor simply sat there as if she was discussing the weather with a colleague.

"May I ask what he was doing that led you to take such actions?"

"He was talking in class. I told him off, well, I warned the entire class, and he defied my orders, and said some very inappropriate words pertaining to my personal life that were fairly offensive and disrespectful." The professor explained, purposely withholding the details of her encounter. Otherwise, she would have been compelled to relive the most agonizing moment of her life in front of the person responsible for the still-fresh wound.

"I'm aware I shouldn't have bu-"

"I'm not here to chastise you, Professor." Lauren intruded cagily, ensuring that she had utilized the correct designation. "You're actually one of, if not, the best Economics tea-" She cleared her throat, hastily correcting herself before an outburst could flip her table over. "-professors this school has ever had. I'm only here to ask you if you could allow Mr. Harrison back in your class. He is prepared to deliver a formal letter of apology addressed to you, and the office of the chairman, the dean of his department and I will be furnished copies."

"That seems fair." Camila nodded, seemingly deep in thought as her eyes were locked elsewhere but soon flitted back to the expectant counselor. "Although, I never banned him from class. I simply asked him to step out on that specific day."

A devilish smirk soon crawled up to her lips, unable to stifle the sense of pride. She had stolen another person's, if not, the entire college's respect and Camila was willing to settle for fear. There was an odd rush that fueled a fire within her when the eyes that momentarily stare back at her displayed terror, fright, just by the sight of her.

The gesture did not go unnoticed by the observant psychologist but Lauren chose to disregard the malevolence in the woman before her - simply gratified that she had solved a conflict that would have affected a student's future.

"Great! I'll have him notified of the arrangement and I'll make sure he brings the letter with him on Monday." Lauren flashed an unbridled, toothy grin; brimming with momentary glee for the fullfilment of her professional responsibility.

"Thank you, Professor."

The expression on the counselor's face was bittersweet. It was the kind of grin that Camila strived to see in the years that they have spent together. She was yearning to be blessed with that crooked smile that made those green eyes glow ever-so-brightly and now that it was there, the professor felt a significant discomfort knowing she had endured way too long without it. She took refuge in the thought that it was her who caused it but it was not enough to settle the uproar in her soul, and it ignited a craving that dried her mouth and shook her hands.

Camila needed to get out of there.

"Well, that's settled then." The professor hastily stood up and Lauren followed suit.

She was quick to shove her hands in the front pockets of her dark blue dress pants; conveying her reluctance for physical contact. It was for the best and Lauren would agree; tucking her own hands behind her back. Neither of them willing to be melted; desperately gathering the strength to steady every hypersensitive bone and flesh in their bodies.

"Thank you, Miss Tremaine. I'll see you on Monday." Camila regarded; still with the same stress on the designation, unconsciously denying a certain detail that was plaguing her to great extent. Albeit it being not necessary, she felt obligated to clarify what may have sounded like an insinuation. "We...both...work here."

Lauren simply curved her lips to a closed-mouth grin and nodded to acknowledge the professor, having left with no other options to properly bid her adieu.

"Until then, Professor."

"Until then." Camila concurred.

She felt a spark of interest in those three words which promised another anticipated yet uncomfortable encounter. She was close to cursing herself but somehow, could not contest her raw feelings.

The professor found herself out to the faculty parking in record speed only minutes later. Bundled in layers of clothing, she quenched a craving in the form of a white stick - her fourth one in the last half hour; fastened between her lips. The other end was lit in a small, steady ember as it emitted white smoke that blended with the bright yet incredibly cold high noon along with the fog that her breathing created. She was leaning against a naked tree which was reduced to nothingness but an oversized twig rendered lifeless by the autumn season. Camila was perched atop a layer of ice, kept solid by the frigid weather that concealed the equally limp grassy island.

Taking a long drag, she filled her lungs with addicting nicotine while the rest of her body was cloaked in an extra layer of warmth. It had been a placebo effect of comfort through the years; the habit embedded in her with the help of a particular girl she met on her first day at Purdue University. Over the years, her cravings had been magnified and she was continually finding multiple reasons to light that cigarette up. Even the shallowest one as a student pissing her off became a justification for a stick.

At the end of most days, she'd be able to consume a pack or two.

The concrete expanse of the parking space was shoveled and ridded of clumped ice; only leaving minute freezing puddles in the little groves of the cold rough surface. The promise of a new blanket of snow hovered just above her head; thick and heavy clouds ready to shed magical snowflakes.

Camila simply existed in the moment and was surrounded by a vast open space with trees, shrubberies and cars alined in order. The little hushed murmurs of car engines and occasional voices of other people filled her ears.

That was her new life, the one she had grown accustomed to after almost nine years of being in Indiana.

She could no longer hear the beach; the sound of the waves as it collected force, coursing through the once still waters to smash against the shore. There were no birds chirping or the swooshing sound of boats as they glide against the surface of ocean but then she heard a particular voice that sucked her back to reality.

"Hey."

Camila's eyes snapped open, immediately widening in horror as her pulse picked up. Somehow, she had not expected another encounter with the owner of that impossibly sexy raspy voice while she was essentially a chimney. It had never occurred to her that she would feel that appalled, embarrassed to be found smoking when it always offered her relief. But then, she was reluctant to flick the stick away.

No, she was holding onto it and Lauren would have to use her wrestling skills to pry it out of Camila's hand.

The professor stood her ground, telling herself that if her ex-girlfriend did not approve of her choices, she will simply shrug her off. Why was she even thinking about Lauren's opinions anyway? Why did the thought of Lauren's disapproval bother her?

Camila began to hate herself for it and she hated that she did.

Regardless, Lauren had just confirmed her suspicions but was aware she had to right to even stare at the cigarette.

"Hey." Camila retorted upon escorting the cigarette from her mouth, gently pinching it between her thumb and index finger with Lauren's gaze set on that specific hand.

Lauren was eyeing her elegant and expensive wedding band; thankful for the dark aviators that concealed her green eyes. It was a 5 carat Asscher cut diamond ring that was crawling with smaller diamonds around the platinum surface and priced over $150,000.

It wasn't the price that got the psychologist all worked up. It was what the ring represented.

However, the band could not match the gem that Camila was staring at. Her brows rose as she practically gawked at her ex-girlfriend not so subtly. Lauren looked very different from the person she had just a conversation with and for a long moment, Camila was debilitated. Her internal organs were either working on hyper-drive or passing out, overwhelmed by Lauren.

Camila was unsure how she didn't notice but the psychologist's hair was dyed midnight black, parted to one side that flattered her widow's peak. Her dress shirt was hidden beneath an unbearably sexy leather jacket while her flattering slacks that stretched enough to accommodate those gorgeous porcelain legs ended with shin high high-heeled boots. A cellphone on one hand, Lauren's look was completed by a sagging backpack draping over one shoulder - a backpack of all things.

The boots, the jacket and the sunglasses reminded Camila of their year in college and boy, did she find that version of Lauren extremely attractive.

Lauren was smoldering. It was lethal.

There was an evident change in Lauren. She had matured and Camila was left longing for an impossible dream which was to have wasted those eight years in purse bliss with Lauren. But of all the things her brown eyes had seen, a ring was not one of them and Camila could not help but ask why.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have another job to go to?"

"Hi, Miss Lauren!" A female student accompanied by another suddenly spoke politely, neither of the two co-workers realizing their presence up until that point. Her tone was welcoming, gleeful but there was a shift as her body tensed when she noticed Camila.

"G-Good afternoon, Professor." She stuttered in her wavering voice.

Lauren smiled brightly and mumbled a quick "hello" while Camila never acknowledged them. It was a scenario which was opposite of their high school and college years. It was usually the brown-eyed brunette who acknowledged just about anyone and Lauren simply pretended that they did not exist.

Camila was secretly grateful for the interruption, using the time Lauren "wasted" greeting the students to congregate her composure.

"Uh...yeah. The university has some sort of holiday today and it never piqued my interest." She explained simply; fairly satisfied with her steady tone. "What about you? Don't you stay the rest the day?"

Upon completing her question, she shamelessly lifted the cigarette up to her lips and inhaled a lungs-worth before turning her head to the direction of the breeze, away from Lauren's face. It was simply rude to blow smoke towards anyone.

"I had to come last Saturday to meet with students and the chairman told me I could get half the day off today." Lauren retorted in a slightly friendly manner, allowing a smile to settle on her lips. "Are you waiting for your ride? Aren't you cold out here?"

Her curiosity took over and her eyes wandered parking space right in front of Camila where a shiny onyx black GMC Yukon XL Denali was parked. The vehicle looked pristine and in its brand new shine which oddly reminded her of Camila's Chevrolet Colorado that she had not seen in a really long time. Her green eyes continued to eye the mundane concrete bumper block which had the words "Prof. Clausnitzer" printed in bold with a corresponding lot number - 1048.

Camila's thoughts crawled back to the moment she noticed Lauren's tidied table and her eyes widened as a realization struck her. It was a jumbled mess of remorse and embarrassment, having disrupted Lauren's plans for a good half hour that she had prolonged by taking a call she could have ignored.

The professor's tenacity had gone down the drain and the psychologist before her had read her emotions effortlessly. Lauren was surprised to find Camila deviating from her typical intimidating and unapproachable stance.

"Oh, god. I'm so sorry." Camila muttered in sheer horror; her free hand flying up to conceal her gaped mouth. "We're you on your way out when I came in?"

"It's okay." Lauren cooed with a soft chuckle, hoping to quell the professor's angst. "It's my job and I didn't want to waste your time by asking you to come another day."

She gracefully shook her head and tangled her right hand through her hair, brushing the silky mane without the intention of smoothing it out. They simply formed waves to ripple through that shaped her gorgeous face, and damn was it sexy.

Camila was a goner.

Her lungs burned, desperately informing her that she had not indulged in oxygen for critical seconds while her heart was waging a war against her ribs and all in its path. Her usually coherent thoughts were in shambles; fighting against her emotions with the rational that never really had that much weight anymore - not in front of Lauren.

Along with the way Lauren's porcelain hand coursed through her tresses, there was a pull in Camila; a desire to get to immerse herself in Lauren, to get to know the person she one knew inside out. She could not deny the thrill of getting to know her ex-girlfriend and it had been a really long time since she experienced anything as exciting.

They were capable of being casual and that seemed to be enough.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Camila suddenly blurted out, feeling the cold, cold blood gush through her veins as her nerves strangled her neck.

Furrowing her brows, Lauren lifted her sunglasses and perched it on her head, revealing those confused green eyes that only wanted to make sure she was not hallucinating.

"No..."

"Do you want to have an early dinner later at my house?" Camila spoke with a certain uncertainty, clearing her throat to ease some of her worries.

She had instantly regretted the crass invitation that she could not take back.

Camila hated that her mouth seemed to have a mind of its own, having spoken before she could even think it through, process it in that ginormous brain of hers. She hated that she no longer had control of her heart; how it leapt at the thought of spending time with Lauren. She hated that her entire being, not just her body, yearned to connect with Lauren's.

The walls she had works so hard to build were as flimsy as straw and did that annoy her to no end but scared her at the same time.

Camila was sure it was because of those enthralling orbs; curse those damn green eyes that always stripped her of her obstinacy and rendered her helpless on her knees.

"To catch up?" She immediately followed, saving what was left of her dignity. "We have almost 9 years between us."

To say that Lauren was confused is an understatement. Of course, she was ecstatic about the invitation which she figured was Camila's way of following through with what she said during the first day of classes. For whatever is in the professor's convoluted mind - a malevolent or a vengeful being, Lauren somehow found a speck of the girl she loved.

And to her, that, too was enough.

Besides, she was meeting the lucky bastard that got to call Camila his wife. It was a bit unsettling but it may provide Lauren the final push to relent and finally, let go.

"S-Sure...I guess." Lauren retorted in the same indeterminate, cagy manner and shoved her hand in her front pocket with the thought that their conversation had reached its end. "Just give me your address and I'll be right there."

"We could...go...um...together." Out went Camila's wild thoughts and she was scrambling to find a bandage to cover everything up. She was growing even more aggravated of herself and it would only take a little more for her to blame everything on the counselor. "I was dropped off here."

Lies! Camila internally yelled fisting her free hand while the other escorted the smoking cigarette back to her lips. She took a drag, again directing the white cloud to blend with the gentle breeze.

Lauren contemplated on what she had just heard. She was certain it was not the smartest move but was only keen on simply salvaging time with Camila. Heaven knows that had been one of her most critical daydreams.

Pulling a key ring that clanked as Lauren slipped the hoop through her index finger, tossed it around to land on her palm and folded her fingers over it.

"Alright. Right this way."

The co-workers walked side by side, taking a moment to adjust to the new feeling that had agitated their entire body and rattled their souls. They have walked by each other in the past but it certainly did not feel the same. It was nerve-racking, both attempting to figure out what was normal so as not to throw each other off.

They passed cars of different makes and models; none of them appealed to to the professor until they reached a beautiful beast in black. Camila thought she drove a manly vehicle until her eyes found the Jeep Wrangler Unlimited in all its rugged glory and was genuinely surprised when Lauren moved to stand by the driver's door.

Son of a b***h! Lauren got sexier! She grumbled internally. Just as she suspected. It was a car she would have expected to be Lauren's and it was igniting an alien feeling to ripple through her body. She was turned on. From the clothes and the demeanor to the damn vehicle; Camila was defenseless.

The ride, as expected, was quiet with occasional directions from Camila. Both were cautious, too cautious that their heads were trained straight ahead as they battled against the chaos that settled in their chests. Lauren's grip on the wheel was tight and immovable while Camila clasped her hands together very firmly.

They were rolling farther away from the city where concrete buildings popped up like mushrooms and commercial space with a hodgepodge of dining and shopping options abound. The low volume of the music from the radio was slowly replaced by static.

20 minutes into the drive, they were entering woodland areas bursting with a foliage of trees and shrubberies; some stripped of their leaves while others stood in all their green splendor. Lauren was not complaining but was grateful for the concrete road that assured her that she was not lost yet. But then they entered a clearing, one that looked to be well maintained and her eyelids could not part wider when her eyes found the French provincial mansion up ahead.

Lauren expected Camila to be well off, to be successful only for her expectations to be magnified. Regardless, she thought her ex-girlfriend deserved them all.

The 30,000 square-foot colossal stone house stood proudly in Hillburn Granite. The same material made their stone walls enclosing a lot more than three times the size of their large home that was outlined by the pristine forest.

Where they were, Lauren was unaware but she had not wandered to that part of Indiana before.

Allowed in by a quick call to security stationed close by, the iron gates parted to reveal an intricate marble fountain enclosed by a hedgerow right in the middle of a wide open space. Camila instructed Lauren to park anywhere she pleased and even suggested to circle around the ginormous house to where the garages were located; garages with multiple automatic doors and space for at least eight vehicles.

Lauren didn't even have time to take in her surroundings before Camila led her to the in-swing double doors with haste. It was cold and neither of them wanted to stay out any longer. The counselor was right behind the younger brunette, fearing the possibility of getting lost. The heels of their shoes clicked against the incredibly shiny hardwood floors and the reflection of mostly white and earth-toned furniture prompted Lauren to look up and find a staircase leading to the second floor.

To their right was the arched entrance towards the dining hall, the other side was the entertainment room with their oversized television and leather theatre seats concealed behind a door, up ahead was their expansive living area; the direction Camila was leading them to after hanging their excess clothing on the nearby coat rack.

Intricate wood carvings accessorized their mismatched tables and chairs. Actually, none of their furniture matched but they seemed to belong; they were simply complementary. Thick drapes hid them from the world while chandeliers in different sizes that range from iron, crystal to porcelain hover above each room. Plains and patterns, textures and smoothness blended well to convey French provincial. The interior looked simple but elegant.

A floral-patterned rug ran the expanse of the entire living room. Ample seating were arranged to allow the traditional stone fireplace as the room's focal point. Camila invited her guest to take a seat but Lauren was lured towards another thing.

To one corner was a white grand piano which was accompanied by a cello. She gracefully ran the tip of her fingers over the white keys.

"Do you play?" Lauren queried, looked up to find Camila on the other side of the room, standing by a sofa table wedged between two long windows and resealing a square decanter with its brown liquid content sloshing within.

The sight alone attacked the psychologist's guilt-ridden chest, assuming that alcohol became her ex-girlfriend's best friend upon their break-up. She was still hung up on the thought that Camila actually smoked. It was hardest to comprehend considering the younger girl was keen on maintaining healthy lifestyle back in the first year of their college life. She even did all the grocery shopping to ensure Lauren ate well.

There was an apparent hesitation in Camila's features and Lauren figured it a sign of bad news. Instead of answering immediately, she replaced the crystal container back down to the table and lifted an old fashioned glass to her mouth, subsequently taking a sip of it.

"No. They're Luca's, my...um...my husband."

Lauren was stilled. The mere knowledge of Camila having a husband was different, having the professor say it was another. Yes, Lauren was jealous and her insides were in shambles. The warmth that suddenly crawled over her torso and up to her face, and the force at which her heart had plummeted and shattered to the surface it landed were clear evidence of the consuming emotion. It didn't help that her bated breaths was a sign of moisture to congregate in her green eyes.

Jealousy is a cold-hearted b***h.

"Oh." She retorted under her breath as she hung her head low and focused on the keys, looking for finger prints over the shiny surface, having nothing else to fill the silence.

"Your poison?" Camila's voice came uncertain and small but Lauren had heard her.

Deep in the forest of Camila's anger was a sympathizing, gentle soul that barely made an appearance. The usual recipient was a 17-year-old who still lived in Miami in the contemporary house by the beach, her sister.

"Red wine." Now that was Lauren's best friend for years. Somehow, the mention of the deep red alcoholic beverage made her tongue crave for the taste. She had time to indulge, she thought and she badly needed it dancing on her taste buds.

Having enough of intruding, Lauren finally sat down on a rustic cream-colored linen arm chair to one side of the fireplace where she could hear the relaxing sound of the flame crackling and sizzling as it ravaged, engulfed the entirety of the blocks of firewood.

Camila was quick to join her. She occupied a camelback sofa that came in ivory with gold design on the other side of the heat source upon handing the awfully brimming glass of red wine to the waiting hand. The professor knew Lauren needed as much alcohol to last the rest of the day.

"Thanks." Lauren breathed upon swallowing more than half of the wine's volume which warmed the pipes it flowed down in in its wake. She cradled the glass between her palms and sat it over one leg. "What is it that you're drinking? If you don't mind, of course."

"Brandy." The professor answered simply, swirling the liquor and watching as it formed a small whirlpool and released the alcoholic aroma up to her nostrils. It was strangely therapeutic. "It's good. You should try it."

"Maybe later."

Apparently, the tea-sipping teenager was long gone which only exacerbated the fact that they had become strangers.

The two had spent their time conversing about matters anchored to résumé details and not necessarily anything more personal than Camila mentioning her husband's name over multiple glasses of alcohol.

Lauren actually tried a glass of brandy and they were both, stripped of most of their inhibitions.

Lauren discussed about her job description while Camila elaborated on her thesis for her Ph.D. The older brunette was cautious not to tamper with their casual relationship but was secretly unhappy about the turn of events. Although, she was not exactly sure how to discuss the semantics of their lives apart or what happened that made Lauren decide on breaking up with Camila.

Yes, Camila forgot to offer Lauren lunch. Thankfully, the green-eyed brunette had consumed her sandwich after the professor had exited her office.

It was over an hour after that there was a loud bang emanating from the back doors and Camila knew there was only one person capable of such gracelessness which tensed Lauren into perking up in her seat. She was about to meet the owner of the name Camila had been wearing for years and her heart was hammering heavily that she could hear it in her ears.

Lauren would have appreciated a little preview from an oversized picture hanging on the wall or a small framed one perched on one of the numerous tables around but couldn't find any.

Swallowing the remainder of her red wine, Lauren gulped hard; grateful for the deep red liquid that cloaked her dried up mouth. More importantly, she was thanking the heavens for whatever relaxing chemical that was blended in the alcohol content.

Lauren may or may not have been indulging to quell the inevitable anxiety but it still wasn't enough.

Meanwhile, Camila had nerves to quell, as well.

"Luca?" She called, practically yelling the name for her voice to ricochet against the walls.

"Cammie?" A deep yet silky voice with a hint of feminine vibe to it accompanied by leisurely footsteps that became louder and louder, drilling the otherwise insignificant sound in Lauren's ears.

Cammie. That nickname brought so many uncomfortable memories that Lauren may have just sobered up, feeling sweat breaking over her forehead.

The psychologist was slightly cringing as the sound came closer and closer. It was the moment of truth and she was ascending from her seat to be respectful, polite. Surely, there had to be a trick to calming yourself down, willing jealously out of your system in her psychology books but Lauren may have forgotten everything else as she was being reminded of Camila's new life without her.

"Did you pick Les up?"

"He's over at Darnell's with that mutt." Luca chuckled as he teased his wife with the disparaging word she had used hours earlier. "Darnell's nephew came over and Les begged me if he could stay."

Rolling her eyes, Camila shook her head as a small smile dwelled on her lips. There was something about Luca that both annoyed and amused her. It was a conflicting feeling that seemed to be working somehow.

"How's Darnell?"

"Oh you know, the same excellent kisser and lover we all know." Luca retorted and during that time, his voice was accompanied by clanks of glass and quiet murmurs with another feminine voice before silence ensued for a couple of seconds. "What about you? Did you finally find someone as worthy of your time as Lau-"

"Just..." Camila interrupted with haste before her husband could finish the name, shooting up to her feet. Her pulse spiked up, apprehensive of her husband's blabber mouth. Fortunately, Lauren seemed to be too caught up in her anxious daze to notice. "Come here!"

"I had to get water! I was thirsty! Chill out!" He yelled, feigning offence but his light tenor was giving him away.

Something told Lauren that that was the dynamic between the couple; Camila in her limited patience while Luca goes around it with humor. Oddly enough, it worked. The man seemed like a carefree person that would have exhausted Camila's fire to a minimum.

A couple more footsteps resounded, a little rushed until a tall man came into view, eyes closed and chin tilted up while his brows were stitched together. It was as if he was high of o****m.

Luca was in a black form fitting long-sleeved shirt that exposed the bulges of his muscular torso. His short blonde hair was polished and swept to one side which framed his prominent nose and cheek bones.

He was attractive and Lauren felt challenged somehow but defeat was looming close by.

What grabbed Lauren's attention was his perpetually elevated brows which made the man seem judgmental and proud. He had every right to. That guy that had won the lottery in Lauren's eyes.

Although, Luca's stance seemed awkward. His legs were oddly parted; his left was slightly elevated and simply on his toes. Features scrunching up, he protruded his behind until he released a noticeable gust of wind that weaved through his intestines with an accompanying loud, rambunctious sound that may have brought a pungent odor along with it.

Lauren's mouth gaped, releasing a huff of both disbelief and amusement; a much needed release for her tensed body.

Camila's free hand flew up to her face, concealing most of it as she shook her head in disappointment and discomfiture. Warmth immediately prickled her face and ears as her olive skin darkened to a shade of red. Holding her breath, she did not want to be in that room, not when Lauren was there while her incredibly effervescent husband was around.

Luca groaned in satisfaction, lips tracing a smile. "Oh, gravy boat. That felt good."

"That felt embarrassing." Camila remarked defiantly, crossing her arms as she recovered from her discomfort; safely cradling the empty glass in one hand. "Clausnitzer, I have a guest."

Luca's blue eyes widened in utter horror and grimaced as if he was experiencing physiological pain and for good reasons, too. One, Camila would only address the man with his last name if she was vexed and two, Camila did have a guest and that was an extremely rare occurrence. Furthermore, it was a stranger, an attractive one at that. His features matched that of Camila's.

He was as red as a tomato.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for that. I cannot even find a fake excuse." Luca rushed to Lauren, folding his hands into fists and held it by his chest. He gritted his teeth as his brows arched, desperately trying to make a smile magically appear. "I'm Luca and I apologize for that."

Lauren would have forced the smile she knew how to fake too well but for some reason, her body was betraying her and found the man's humiliated state adorable. She moved the glass to her left hand and extended her right to shake Luca's hand who accepted it eagerly, shaking too firmly.

"I totally understand. I'm Lauren. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Lauren?" Luca's eyes widened even more as a gasp flowed out of his mouth. He was intrigued and his head immediately snapped towards his wife, unconsciously gripping Lauren's hand tighter to keep her in place.

"Lauren?" The green eyed girl questioned, confused by her own name. And because of that, she felt apprehensive, alarmed of what her simple name could carry.

Luca frantically stared at the girl before her, inspecting her features ardently; the suspense killing all three of them on different levels.

"Green eyes, pale skin, long dark brown hair, prominent brows, little freckles on nose." He mumbled as if he was ticking a checklist. A realization came and pop came his eyes out when he gradually, swiveled to flash his wife a mischievous grin coupled by a knowing glint in his eyes. His brows climbed even higher in his scrutiny. "Lauren Lauren?"

"What?" Lauren queried nervously; green eyes darting between one that looked apprehended and the other that looked...excited.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you!" He announced enthusiastically, finally releasing Lauren's hand to wrap his arms around her which confused Lauren even more but reciprocated anyway. "Finally!"

"Uh...he knows?" The psychologist stammered, eyeing Camila incredulously.

It was the first time they had addressed their old relationship and surprisingly, it wasn't as stressful considering she was already stressed about another thing - Luca. Her answer came with a timid nod from Camila which only raised more questions starting with: why would Luca be thrilled to meet Camila's ex-girlfriend?

"And he's okay? You talked about me? I don't understand."

"In college, she did." Luca clarified as he peeled himself from the embrace, saving Camila from having to explain herself. His words came rushed, abrupt which was a little too suspicious but Lauren allowed it.

"Hold on. I'm not supposed to be okay with you?"

Lauren unsurely shook her head, eyes boring onto Camila. It seemed as though they were sucked on a trance, communicating with their eyes but neither could convey whatever it was they were trying to say. Their connection had not been severed but it had suffered through the years of resentment and guilt.

Without neither of them realizing it, Luca had managed to amble towards the sofa table where several bottles of alcohol stood proud and fixed himself a glass of brandy. He turned on his spot to face the two girls, eyeing them curiously and decided on what to do. Of course, after taking a swig of his spirit.

"Okay. I am not okay with this. Get out of my house, Lauren."

"Luca! Seriously!" Camila yelled at the top of her lungs, her voice could very well shook the entire mansion; the reverberating force killed Camila's steady stance. "You are so...frustrating! I need you to get out of my life!"

Luca released an exaggerated gasp, smirking as he wiggled his brows suggestively. He sauntered towards his wife and comfortably slung his arm over her shoulders.

"After almost eight years of marriage?" He feigned insult but soon shrugged, portraying his indifference. "Okay. I'll have the divorce papers ready in the morning, wifey." He joked and proceeded to plant a chaste kiss on her temple which was particularly painful to Lauren. "It's good to see you."

"Kiss ass." Camila grumbled, pushing her husband off of her who relented but was laughing his socks off.

To Lauren, the Clausnitzers had a connection but not the kind that would quantify as romantic love. There was an apparent chemistry binding the two but Lauren could not look past friendship in the couple's midst. She was almost sure about it; clinging onto her extensive knowledge on the human emotion. Or maybe it was her heart's way of tricking her into thinking she had a chance with Camila.

Luca crashed down onto the sofa Camila previously occupied, crossing his legs while his left arm draped over the top of the backrest. And just as he expected, a loud bang, similar to the one he made earlier echoed through the house.

"Oh, by the way, I have a guest." He muttered slyly and watched Camila's features contort into mortification as she realized who he was talking about.

Oh, no. Not her. Suddenly, the thought of dealing with Luca while Lauren was around became more appealing. The guest was worse than him.

Color drained from her face, the previous red tint was immediately replaced by ashen features. She stood there wide-eyed and slack-jawed while attempting to cope with her aggravated heart.

Camila was bracing for further embarrassment; another person who can degrade her stature in front of the person who was the reason it was built in the first place.

"Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Claus!" A feminine voice resonated through the house which was followed by predominantly eager footsteps, the rubber soles of her shoes not creating the same pitter-patter as Luca's leather ones. "That jeep outside; is that yours? It's so cool! Can I have the GMC if you guys decide to give it away?"

Camila lied to Lauren, just as she suspected. But why? The psychologist's attention was lured towards that thought and that thought alone as she aimlessly stared at nothing in particular.

It wasn't long before a girl came into view. She was in loose flannel, ripped jeans with graceful, sandy hair that cascaded down to her waist and olive green eyes. They were not as green or as bright as Lauren's, they were lighter but the girl's aura was similar to the psychologist.

Lauren was in for a treat; a stressful one.

"Milo." Camila grumbled through gritted teeth with an apparent distaste. She was extremely irritated by the girl's presence alone and was more annoyed by the mention of the GMC to which she cringed. "What are you doing here?"

"Camila Cabello's exes in one room. All we need is Janette Zack." Luca breathed, looking away cunningly and escorted his glass up to his lips.

That snapped Lauren out of her trance. Milo used to be Camila's girlfriend, too and that discovery surprised Lauren but gave her hope with her situation with Camila. Maybe they could be friends?

The sandy-haired girl seemed to be at ease in the house and Luca was not waging a war against the two of them which was a good thing.

"Why did I ever mention her to you?" Camila sighed heavily, glancing at her husband, unimpressed by his antics. She looked at him pleadingly as she shook her head, ceasing him in his tracks.

"It's okay, Cammie." Milo assured her with no such intention of quelling Camila's worries, invading the space expertly and Lauren furrowed her brows while she listened intently.

"Why did I ever mention that dumb nickname, too?"

"Oh, hey! I'm Milo. Mary Ingrid Louise Otto; M. I. L. O."

Taking the chance, Milo extended her hand while approaching and stared at Lauren like she had seen the most expensive gem there is. Head slightly tilted, her lips displayed a creepy, excited grin. She was definitely attracted and it was unsettling both Lauren and Camila.

"Do you always have to introduce yourself like that?" Camila complained with a roll of her eyes, evidently frustrated by the intruder. Her face felt hot while her heart reflected the jealousy that was rising uncontrollably.

Lauren gracefully accepted her hand with a firm shake and immediately let go, suddenly craving more red wine. She had prepared for the wrong encounter and was shrinking in front of Milo's dreamy gaze.

She was oddly feeling uncomfortable which did not come often. What's more baffling was how calm she was in Luca's presence and Luca was her ex-girlfriend's husband.

"Wow. You're gorgeous." Milo whispered, seemingly breathless just by the sight of the green eyed brunette. "I'm sorry they couldn't find it in their rude hearts to introduce us."

Lauren offered a small smile, still a little unsure as to how to react. It was quite awkward and her stable pulse was beginning to rev up which posed a threat to her fairly normal breathing. It didn't help that Camila looked like she was being attacked, clenching her jaw muscles too tight.

"It's okay. I'm Lauren and the car's mine"

Camila was watching on the sidelines. She was uneasy and in need of an opening to penetrate herself into the conversation. Milo was a charmer and she was not sure as to how she would feel about her exes dating each other. It simply was unacceptable. Camila's stress levels were high that the pressure reached her neck, strangling her.

Sensing the distress, Luca ascended to his feet and pulled his wife on for a side hug. He was remorseful for even prodding at his wife using the bouncy regular visitor.

"That's sick!" Milo exclaimed, extremely excited about the car or Lauren or both but then the eerily wide smile on her lips disappeared as she processed the name. "Lauren..."

"Tremaine." Camila interrupted hurriedly, gaining Luca's attention but not Milo's. The girl was just too drawn to the porcelain-skinned goddess before her. "Married!" She said much louder.

"Wait! Exes? Married?" The sandy-haired girl queried finally catching up and eyed Luca who nodded. Her jaw dropped, genuinely shocked by the news. "Oh, my god. You pick them hot ones, Cammie!"

There it was; the thing that Camila feared the most. Milo could not keep her mouth shut for the life of her, she was simply incapable of it. The professor was not sure if she should feel embarrassed or simply angered by Milo's crass actions.

Luca decided to take matters to his own hands when Camila simply sagged her head, bowing down in defeat. It crushed him to be the indirect reason of his wife's frustrations.

"Excuse me. I'll have the cook prepare us a meal." He walked up to Milo, grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her against her will. "And you, Milo, will be joining me."

Luca was stilled when he realized something was missing and he had to find out before he could disappear with Milo, much to Camila's dismay.

"Oh and honey, where's your car?"

"It's at the shop." Camila answered almost robotically, visibly tensed. Her hold on the glass in her hand tightened, paling her knuckles in the process.

The man merely raised his brows and hummed incredulously but decided on accepting her answer before completely vanishing for the time being.

In her relief, Camila backed away until she reached the sofa, crashing down as she rubbed her temples with her free hand. The day could not get worse and she was just chastising herself for inviting Lauren over without consulting it with her husband who brought Milo of all people.

"I'm sorry about them."

The three were a mess and Lauren might have justified Camila's apology. None of the three portrayed the same emotions as the other; if anything, Camila and Lauren's emotions were similar. But Lauren could think of something that all of them felt; the three were comfortable with each other.

The problem was, she wasn't.

"It's completely fine by me." Lauren assured her, descending back to the chair she had occupied, feeling particularly weak after her encounter with the people in Camila's present. "It's his house and Milo seems to have been in your lives long enough to map out the entire mansion."

"Good point."

The professor dropped her hand down to the seat and looked at Lauren apologetically and her eyes still beamed of a detachment. There wasn't a prominent warmth burning in those eyes that would have warmed Lauren better than the fireplace they were close to. She guessed she just had to get used to it instead of having her hopes crushed each time.

"Can I have more wine?" Lauren asked, arching her brows as she displayed a timid smile.

"Oh, hell yes!"

It was the same dynamic for two hours as they waited for their 5:00 PM dinner. Apparently, it was a typical dinner time for the Clausnitzer household. Lauren figured she'd need a midnight snack later on.

Milo was still trying to flirt with Lauren with all her efforts in vain; Lauren staring at Camila longingly but not extensive enough to raise suspicions; Camila cringing every single time Milo opened her mouth; Luca comforting his wife while joining in on the fun, as well.

It was chaos and none of it was in order.

The meal was pleasant.

There was a huge dining hall close by but they were huddled around the kitchen island, sitting on bar stools. Luca seated at the head, as expected, Lauren to his left, Camila to his right while Milo was seated beside her. It was better that way; to prevent any more physical contact between the two green eyed ladies.

The reason? Camila and Lauren's discomfort and Luca will be damned if he didn't do anything.

Despite the unrequited flirting, the other two were kind to Lauren while Camila was her new-natural silence that Lauren could not ignore. Regardless, the psychologist was thankful for Milo and Luca for shedding some much needed light on an otherwise gloomy situation with neither Laure nor Camila able to maintain eye contact or hold a conversation.

Lauren was mostly a spectator whose eyes followed the speaker to show her interest in the conversation despite it being just for respect.

During dessert, they were enjoying a beautifully moist chocolate cake in its sweet decadence. The glaze shined to perfection, watering waiting mouths that were eagerly, with finesse, digging in.

"He does like the fishing pole gnome." Luca suddenly commented, eyeing his wife as he wagged his fork repeatedly.

"Told you."

"Why though?"

"Who?" Milo interjected urgently, stopping the conversation before it moved on without her conscious knowledge of what they were talking about.

"Rudolph!" The couple answered harshly, scowling at the sandy-haired girl; the force pushing Lauren farther against the backrest as she cowered in fear.

"Rudolph's our dog, Lauren and Camila hates him." Luca clarified, smiling politely at their guest before refocusing his eyes onto his wife. "Now, why, Cammie?"

That explained it. For a moment, actually, for hours, Lauren thought her ex-girlfriend had lost it and considered a little boy a mutt.

"That's how dogs are. He has marked his territory." Camila shrugged, not bothering to lift her gaze towards her husband, busy cutting a part of the cake to a bite-size piece.

"So, the flowers are fertilized?"

Chuckling, Camila finally attached her brown eyes to her husband's blues. "Yup. And it's not just urine, darling."

"Honey, I touch the soil with my bare hands." Luca grimaced as he dropped his fork, crumpling his features in disgust as he lifted his hands, making sure they were clean. "Of all the places he could do it, it had to be there? Where I'm on my hands and knees. That's...that's gross."

The professor grinned mischievously, rocking her brows with pride. Revenge was sweet.

"Thanks for bringing that up, Luca!" Milo gagged, one hand slapping against her mouth while the other pushed the small plate away from her. She was desperate to keep her food down. "Do you have another dessert that's not of the same shade as poop?"

Upon the mention of the animal excrement, the other three looked down at their food, finding a faint resemblance in their disheveled food and all bellowed - very angrily, at that.

"Ew! Milo!"

During those hours Lauren spent with Camila, her husband and ex-girlfriend, Lauren stumbled upon a discovery that was both good and bad. To Lauren's eyes, Mr. and Mrs. Clausnitzer loved each other, but they were not in love. There were no lingering, breathtaking stares, no tender kisses to the lips and they barely had physical contact.

They seemed happy that way and couples who are in love do not act the way they did. It was easy to spot couples in-love and the Clausnitzers didn't seem to fit the description. It could have been her broken heart that tainted her assessment but it still baffled her.

At the early end of the night, Camila had accompanied her guest to her vehicle. Hands tucked in the front pockets of her pants for warmth, she stood right before her ex-girlfriend whose back was on the Jeep. Camila had grabbed the nearest thick jacket while Lauren was bundled up in her leather jacket plus a beanie and gloves she had retrieved from her car earlier, anticipating the frigid weather.

The temperature had dropped but the tensions that always hovered above them since they saw each other for the first time was back. Labored breaths and wildly beating hearts, they stood in front of each other, seemingly assessing the situation. Lauren was rocking herself on her feet, biting her lips as she looked at Camila expectantly.

Goodbyes were never easy to both of them. But the stress, the pain and anguish Camila endured only intensified when Lauren left her back in their apartment unit in Philadelphia. With her authoritative deportment, the green-eyed brunette might have brushed the thought of the torment it brought the professor.

"I had a great time...Professor." Lauren paused for a moment, deciding on what to call her ex-girlfriend and ended up with the designation Camila had established. "The food was delicious. Thank you."

In Lauren's bashful and cautious state, she would never, in a billion years, expect nor dream of what she heard next.

"You can...you can...uh...call me Camila." The professor struggled, shaking her head as her voice came out strangulated and brimming with great effort to utter. "We're not within school grounds. I...I think I prefer being called by my name outside of it."

Boy, was it embarrassing. Her anxious pulse was suffocating, preventing air to freely pass through her throat and rev up her shocked lungs. Camila was horrified at the thought of weakness; she had been stripped of strength long enough and she was clinging onto it for dear life. Sure enough, her irritation came and fists were balled and jaw was gritted.

What did she even say? She was allowing Lauren to call her by her name and that seemed irrational somehow.

"Okay..." Lauren had to pause to be able to fully comprehend Camila's words. She was almost certain that she was delirious and had been imagining the events in the past hour due to her desperation. But the frigid weather that had been nipping at her face, gnawing at it to numbness was telling her she was awake.

After over three weeks, she had earned the right to address the professor by her name and it felt beautiful. She never thought that simply having permission to call a person by the name they were given at birth was that magical. Lauren felt empowered and she felt weightless, being blown by the gentlest of winds. Heart leaping and veins bursting with excitement, she was about to let go and allow her body to do a victory dance but she fought to remain still.

Lauren's initial purpose of ending a chapter of her life was thwarted and her hope of a reconciliation simply burned brighter which may have been a bad thing.

"You, too. I mean...you can call me Lauren, too." She continued upon clearing her throat, cringing at how tensed her voice came out.

And just like that, Camila's anger was quelled. The only explanation was magic. Calling Lauren by a man's last name was heartbreaking, agonizing as each time she repeated it.

"Alright." Camila accepted, tugging at her lips to flash a momentary, half-hearted smile that Lauren took as a cue to exit.

"So, Monday?"

"Monday." Camila reaffirmed with a nod, reaching forward to open the driver's door.

Lauren reluctantly climbed inside the Jeep, attaching her eyes back to Camila after strapping herself in. Somehow, she was hopeful when her green eyes found those conflicting brown ones which meant that her resolve was crumbling. It was selfish of Lauren to feel such bliss for another person's internal battle.

It was selfish because Camila had a family of her own. It was selfish because Lauren might have thought of Camila filing for divorce, leaving Luca to be with her. It was selfish, that's why she was considering friendship and nothing more.

After all, when you truly love a person, you set them free.

"Until then, Professor." Lauren expressed with a nod. Her lips displayed a genuine smile, the kind that expressed her deepest emotions and at the time, she was playful.

For once, the designation did not sting. Camila was aware of the childish tenor of Lauren's words and because of that, she could not - for the life of her - stifle a smirk. She found herself shaking her head, huffing in amusement. As painful as it was to her pride, she was welcoming the fleeting feeling of joy.

"Until then, Lauren."

"Camila."

Camila hated herself when her heart leapt Lauren's raspy voice uttering her name pummeled through her ear canal. She hated how she was internally celebrating, while externally struggling to breathe. A prickling in her eyes meant she was close to tears just because she was happy. She misses being happy. There definitely was a spark of excitement emanating from deep within.

How could Lauren have so much effect on her after all those years?

She most definitely didn't want it; the spark, the desire to be with Lauren. She had Luca, the man who was standing by their gaped door, watching them as he crossed his arms. Anger was brewing, bubbling surely from within and this time, it was powerful.

Camila was stilled as Lauren started the engine. She was still when Lauren maneuvered the car towards the exit and she was unconsciously waving at the psychologist. Camila was stilled, shocked at how the afternoon had transpired.

Once again, Camila was hopeful she will see her again and her vision of the future was not bleak. Somehow, the clouds have parted and she could see Lauren clearly.

However, when Lauren disappeared, it all came crashing down again. Camila was sent back to the time she found the note that changed her life forever. It was as if she was stabbed viciously, knife twisting to deliver as much excruciating pain to render Camila's body trembling and helpless for relief.

As Lauren's Jeep rounded a corner, Camila swiveled and jogged towards her expectant husband who was leaning against the doorframe. The man held an understanding, sympathetic expression; offering the gentlest of smiles as he extended his long arms to beckon the brunette for a hug. The moment their bodies collided, Camila's nose was flushed, her throat constricting while she felt a tightness within her chest. Eyes sealed tight, she willed the tears away as Luca continuously brushed his hand over the length of his wife's upper arm.

All kinds of weakening emotions flared; loss, anger, agony, sorrow and irrevocable love were crowding Camila's weary mind and exhausted heart that if she were to let go of Luca, she would simply collapse to the ground. The battle wounds that love inflicted upon her more than eight years prior were still sore and apparently, growing, breaking more of her emotional skin. Only then, there was a battle in her being which used to have a constant victor. She easily shun the thought of allowing Lauren back in her life then but a part of her was fighting despite being the weaker contender.

However, the bigger issue was not simply letting Lauren in, it was if she was willing to give them another chance, as girlfriends. Luca was definitely aware of Camila the predicament afflicting his wife and he was nothing but understanding. He had been in a similar situation and he would never wish it upon anyone. The tug of war between love and reason was unbearable; it's unfair.

"Will you drive me back to get my car? We can go pick Leslie and Rudolph up after." Camila shyly begged, expectantly looking up at the man in her glossed, pitiful eyes.

"At the shop?" Luca teased and looked at her knowingly. He smirking and his wife was shrinking further. "It should be closed by now."

Camila's pride was being tortured, ridiculed and her anger was rising, something that both Luca and Lauren have been bracing for. And sure enough, the outburst came.

"At the college, damn it! Please take me there! I left my purse in my car!"

"We can always ask the drivers, darling." Luca retorted, grinning mischievously.

Meanwhile, Lauren was at least 10 minutes into her 34-minute ride to her apartment - a set-up she had been familiar with during her senior year of high school. She was drumming a beat on her wheel, waiting for the green light to illuminate. She was behind at least eight cars with their taillights illuminated a deep red.

Her phone was attached to a mount close to the dashboard with a map of Lafayette on the display. She was using the device for its GPS capacity, not entirely trusting her sense of direction from the foreign land. Drained by boredom, she found the little white envelop icon on the top left corner of the illuminated screen and hastily checked it after taking a quick glance at the timer by the traffic light.

The message was sent at 2:43 earlier that day and when Lauren saw the name of the sender, her heart sank, prompting her to gasp for survival as her hands were ravaged by a snow storm from within.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lauren! We have the profiles you have requested and are ready for pick up. We will see you soon!"