Situationship || Shawmila [Completed]

9. Being sorry

When the lights of dawn filtered by the windowpanes, it was time for both of them to face the events of the previous evening. The night had passed excruciatingly slow for Shawn who by now had become accustomed to having Camila's small, warm body next to his. Time seemed to have lost its rhythm, and during those long night hours, he mulled over what he said and over his wife's behavior.

Perhaps having exiled her to the couch had not been the best choice, but the indifference that Camila had shown towards him had really unnerved him. After all, he also knew that he had overacted by caring so much for her, especially since in his heart he knew that the flame which had ignited that concern was made of jealousy and possessiveness. It was true: they were married, but theirs wasn't a real marriage. As a result, Shawn had no right to experience those kinds of emotions. On the other hand, he had tried to make her understand his intentions, but except for a few caresses and kisses, their relationship had not evolved that much.

Lying on the bed next to the icy void created by Camila's absence, Shawn had failed to sleep a wink. And now that he could finally get up, he wanted to stay lying on the mattress by himself. Perhaps ignoring the problem would have solved it.

In the meantime, Camila had the feeling that she had barely closed her eyes. The hangover of the previous night had pushed her into a fast and deep sleep. The argument with her husband seemed just an odd dream, one of those a bit absurd and meaningless. After waking up on the couch, however, with her head pounding and her legs numb, she realized that it was all real. With a clear mind she admitted that she had not behaved in the best way, both in her choice to stay out late, and the involuntary reaction of ignoring Shawn's lecture.

Groaning, she got up and started getting ready for the day that awaited her. While making breakfast for two, she rehearsed in her head what she should have said to Shawn when – inevitably – she would see him again. She hadn't had enough time though because the next moment the man had appeared in the kitchen, disheveled hair and tired eyes. The two looked at each other for a moment before exclaiming at the same time: «I'm sorry».

After handing one of the two plates to Shawn, Camila went to sit at the counter. She didn't know what to say and apparently not even him had any idea how to resolve the tension between them. They were both mortified, but resolving their misunderstanding seemed a too difficult task to solve. During their years of friendship, they had never quarreled so frequently, and when it happened they both had made good peace as soon as possible. Why then couldn't they do exactly the same now?

In the following half hour neither of them had dared to speak. Shawn had showered and dressed, and with his briefcase in hand he went out of the front door of their house with a tight smile on his face. Camila wanted to cry. Their morning kiss had become a ritual that was hard to give up and the idea of having messed things up so much that she was deprived of that kiss had given a nice slap in the face to her mood.

Shawn hadn't been able to take even ten steps without regretting it and changing his mind. After inserting the keys into the crack of the door, he fell back into the house and grabbed Camila at the waist– who was still in the same place where he had left her – and printed his lips against those of his wife. «We will talk tonight when I'll be back» he muttered against her mouth, feeling the weak smile of the woman still in contact with his skin.

And on his return they did spoke, but there was not much to say. They apologized without getting into details, perhaps because they did not even know what details were. Instead, they let their hands and lips say everything they needed to, falling asleep in a tight embrace and inhaling each other's scent.