Beach Roses (Camren) *Sequel

Chapter Three- Crying in the Rain

Lauren's POV

Manhattan, New York

"Lauren, table 5 is waiting!" Oliver said with a smile.

"Alright I'm on it!" I answered and exited the kitchen's door and walked to the customer's table with a not-so-genuine smile.

"Hi, can I get your order?" I asked the two girls seated and looking at me with gorgeous smiles on their faces.

"Uhm, yeah can we have casserole of zucchini with crust of Parmesan cheese please?" The brunette girl in chequered polo shirt said as I started to write on my small notepad.

"Okay. How about drinks?" I asked them.

"Strawberry lemonade for me and red iced tea for her." She said and the other girl with red hair smiled from ear to ear.

"Wow, you exactly know what to get for your girlfriend." I commented, looking at them back and forth.

"Oh she's not..." the redhead said but was interrupted by the brunette, looking directly at me with her perfect white teeth.

"She's not my girlfriend, she's my wife." she said, causing me to raise an eyebrow playfully.

"Oh you really look good together." I told them and their smiles got wider.

"Thanks, everyone says that." the brunetter replied and took the other girl's hand to hers.

"For a moment girls." I said.

"Thank you."

I started sprinting off but was stopped halfway and looked back to where they were seated.

"Wife really?" The redhead playfully asked.

"Yeah and nothing can tear us apart now." The small brunette replied, looking at her wife lovingly. And I felt another sharp little pain in my chest, remembering the days when I used to tell people that Camila's my wife even if I haven't even recognize the fact that she's actually my girlfriend and call her my bestfriend instead. I didn't mean to hurt her like that but before I met her, I used to believe that love is being weak, inferior and submissive to something unknown. And there she was, her perfect face  and innocent soul shining down on me like sunshine that feeds my spirit. She made me believe that love do exists and it resides in everyone, even in wicked creatures and she proved to me that even a lost girl like me could possibly fall in love and be loved.

I tried but I can't even get to give myself a bittersweet smile and walked my way to the kitchen.

I was mainly an assistant chef in this restaurant-bar in midtown Manhattan but sometimes I wait tables too just because that was the original job I applied for but the owner/head chef, who also became my close friend, Jacob asked me to cook for him one day and promoted me as his assistant. Breakfast meals are my expertise and everyone just love how I give my personal touch to every dish I make and Jacob immediately liked the Spanish spices I personally make to create a more special aroma and taste and I'm thankful that the tortilla de papa and carbonara I make are the best sellers of the restaurant.

Since I came into this city, I learned to commit myself in my job but of course, the thoughts of Camila would still creep in my head like the cold weather slowly emracing me.

Isn't it bizarre how your chest physically hurt when you miss someone, like no matter what you do, no matter where you are, the thought of her just creeps in your head and you feel the desire of holding her in your arms was overwhelming that you just want to curl up in a ball in your bed and stay like that for a while? They say, it's not the break up that hurts, it's the post trauma that follows. You will wake up in the morning and look at the space beside you that she used to occupy, now it's just an empty cold space and your heart breaks every second you realize how alone you are, it's like living your life all over again and you have no idea where to begin. When I miss her, it's just harder to breathe and I feel like vomitting from the pungent taste of depression in my tongue. I would drive for miles without any concrete direction just to forget about her absence until I end up at the beach, no matter where I go, I always end up watching the waves in the ocean and smile as the water kiss the sand and the seabirds fly.