BELONGS TO ME

Chapter 51

Camila

Nothing forces a person to admit their feelings for someone more than witnessing the interest of another person.

That's what Lauren said to me the day we met.

Shawn was across the fire, watching with worry as the stranger I'd only met held my attention, and held it she did.

That was when 'we' began.

The massage in the living room.

The ice cream in the kitchen.

Our night on the beach.

Once we crossed that line, the one there's said to be no going back from, back we went.

Shawn made a choice, and while it hurt, I understood.

I respected his decision, and then I fell apart.

That's when Lauren came along.

Little by little, I was put back together. I fell in love, and then my world was turned upside down, and I realized, I was already in love. Before.

Long before.

Sitting here today, I see what I didn't then. The beauty in the subtle touch, the longing in the stolen glance. Those things came back to me in wild waves, as did their timing.

After the note with Lauren's number on.

After the hoodie with her number.

After I took back what I'd given away and offered it to another.

And this time, the one I begged to accept it didn't only love me back.

She loved me first.

Once Shawn realized this, fear shook him, drew him out of the corner he placed himself into, but by then, it was too late.

I was already gone.

But when I think about our time, there's no sadness anymore. I don't feel shorted or cheated. I realize now that it had to happen as it did. Shawn had to be the one or things would have ended a lot differently.

I think he knows it too, which is why his eyes fall to his clasped hands when he asks, "So uh, if I would have never pushed you away? If I would have fought for you from the beginning?"

It takes him a moment, but he looks to me again.

"Then I would have been the one who hurt you." My tone is gentle, but honest.

Shawn nods. He knows what I'm saying. Quilt washes over him, and he sighs. "I'm really sorry, Camila. Truly. I wish like hell I didn't hurt you and that things were different for us, but I understand. I've understood, to be honest. I could see the way you loved her, and when you suddenly didn't remember her, I thought maybe that meant you were supposed to be mine all along. I shouldn't have stepped in. I should have waited to see what you decided and been there for you when you needed me to be... if you needed me to be. I was afraid, and I have no other excuse, but I am ashamed, and I do care about you. I hope you know that."

"I do." I nod, and when I stand, he stands with me, pulling me in for a hug.

"I have to go," I whisper.

"I know you do." He releases me, the smile on his lips sad, but encouraging. "I'm happy for you, Camila. You deserve someone like Lauren."

With a small smile, I turn and walk out.

What I said to Shawn was true.

Had he not been the one to hurt me from the start, I would have hurt him in a much different way, because I still would have found my Lauren. There is no doubt in my mind. I belong to her lauren only. just as she belongs to me.

Just as there's none in my mind as to where to find her now.

The sun is minutes away from setting as I'm pulling off the road, so I say a silent plea she's still here, and I'm not disappointed. The moment I turn the corner, her truck comes into view, so I throw the Tahoe into park, grab my things off the seat and rush up the small hillside.

As I reach its peak, my entire body warms, she's sitting exactly where I expected, the glow of the sun creating the perfect Lauren silhouette.

My steps are near silent, yet she still knows I'm coming, and she whips around so fast I jump.

Her eyes widen, and then narrow, and then she's hastily shoving something into her pocket, but not before I catch a glimpse of what it is.

My heart seizes and I lower to my knees beside her, my body facing her as she sits facing forward.

I set my backpack aside and offer a small smile, fighting off the prickling feeling threatening of tears.

"Can I see that?"

Moisture clouds Lauren's eyes, and without taking hers off me, she digs into her pocket and pulls out what she tried to hide. A football, but not just any football.

A tiny white, fluffy one, no bigger than the palm of her hand.

Taking it between my fingers, I spin it around, and my throat grows thick.

Stitched along the front, where the seam of the football should be, is a soft yellow threading that reads Little Jauregui.

"This... this is for—" I swallow, meeting her gaze.

Lauren's jaw is locked tight, but she manages a nod.

"We didn't even get to love him. Her." My voice cracks, the tears dropping. "Not even for one day."

Lauren grows rigid, her gaze sweeping over my face with urgency.

Holding the tiny football close, I reach for the backpack at my side, blindly digging inside.

It's with shaky hands, I place the small bag between us. I try but fail to keep the cracking out of my voice as I meet her stare once more. "Happy Birthday, Lauren."

Her nostrils flare, her nose turning red. "Camz—"

"Open it," I murmur.

Her body shakes as she pulls the tissue paper free, and as she sees what's inside, nothing but a single twenty-dollar football, the same gift her mom would give her every year for her birthday, but isn't here to do so today, the moisture in her eyes doubles.

Lauren's chin falls to her chest, and she buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and my own grow choppier.

I jolt forward, and the second my hand touches her, she looks up into my eyes, and she sees it.

She sees me.

Her palms lift, cupping my cheeks gently, and I lean into her touch, reaching up to hold her there as she stares longingly. "Baby..." she mutters desperately. "Did you come back to me?"

"My god, Lauren." I choke on my own tears, pressing my forehead to hers. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there when she died and I'm sorry you've been alone and I'm just... I'm so sorry," I cry, gripping her hands with my own. "I abandoned you."

"Shh, Camila, no." She swallows hard, shaking her head. "Don't be sorry. Never be sorry. You just had to find your way back." Her eyes close. "I thought I lost you. Are you mine?" she worries, her voice lower than a trembling whisper. "Please... say you belong to me"

I nod rapidly, my hands gliding along her face. "Always. Forever."

A harsh breath pushes past her lips, and she shakes. "Say it."

My eyes pop open, locking with her as I grip and hold her still, whispering, "I swear."

Lauren doesn't hesitate, her mouth crushes mine.

Her kiss is hard and deep, it's devastating and awakening. It's claiming.

Her kiss is a promise from her soul to mine, that no matter what happens, this is home.

She is home.

NOTE TO MYSELF : UGH, FINALLY, A CAMREN CHAPTER, YOU ARE AN ASSHOLE WRITER. You shouldn't write any other stories because you are dramatic as fuck.