DESTINED AFFECTION

THREE

Camila pushed her bike down the alley next to the three-story building and secured it to the drainpipe with her lock. Her apartment comprised one-half of the second floor and had both a front and back entrance. A wooden staircase with deck landings at each level extended from the rear of the house, and she climbed to the second floor, fit her key into the back door, and let herself into her new home. The door opened onto the kitchen, a long narrow room now nearly filled with boxes. Threading her way around the obstacles, she proceeded into the hallway that ran the length of the apartment. A bedroom and bath opened off one side, a small second bedroom that she intended to use as an office adjoined the kitchen on the other, and a large rectangular living room occupied the entire space at the front.

Every room was filled with unopened boxes, scattered pieces of furniture, and a few suitcases. The movers had finished unloading everything late the previous evening, and Camila had no energy to open anything other than the trunk containing her sleeping bag, critical items of clothing, and bathroom gear. Her sleeping bag was still spread out in the middle of the living room on her mattress, and she had a feeling that she would be sleeping in it again that night. She turned once in a small circle, surveying the strange apartment. 

What am I doing here? How in hell did I end up like this?

In retrospect, the chain of events that had changed her life had been set in motion a little over four months before, but the particulars of the proceedings seemed to have kaleidoscoped into one endless nightmare that defied logic or reason. When she tried to make sense of them, Camila found that she could not. She didn't believe in luck or karma or fate. Sometimes bad things just happened. But that philosophy gave her very little comfort at the moment.

Wearily, she sat down on her sleeping bag, leaned her back against a pile of boxes, and closed her eyes. She knew she should eat, but strangely, she was not hungry. She knew she should sleep, but felt too restless inside for that. Her phone rested on the floor nearby. Briefly, she considered calling the woman she had dated on and off during the year of her fellowship in New York, but she found that the idea of talking with Dua will left her feeling empty. They had gone to the occasional party, taken in a few Broadway shows, and shared a physical relationship that had been satisfying if not earth shattering. They weren't lovers; in fact, they were little more than casual acquaintances.

Camila hadn't confided in Dua as her world had precipitously tilted and then simply crumbled, mostly because she wasn't used to discussing her problems with anyone. And especially not with someone she didn't completely trust to understand. Odd that we 've slept together, and I don't know her well enough to confide in her.

She hadn't had much time to think about such things when she'd been working eighteen hours a day as a trauma fellow. Now that she found herself in a professional position to which she had never aspired, alone in a life she had never anticipated, she had far too much time to think. Groaning softly, she rubbed her face, stared at the ceiling, and tried to put the past aside. But the future was almost as difficult to contemplate, particularly considering her uncertain welcome in the ER that morning.

Fleetingly, she wondered if Lauren Jauregui and Ally Brooke were lovers. They had that easy energy between them, and she'd caught Ally eyeing her speculatively a few times during the day. The nurse hadn't exactly been cruising her, but Camila had felt the interest. Perhaps she was the person who had given Lauren that wedding ring.

And just that quickly, Camila found herself faced with yet another thought she did not want to contemplate. Surrendering to exhaustion as much emotional as physical, she stretched out on the sleeping bag and wearily closed her eyes again.

* * * * *

"Lauren," a soft, deep voice murmured.

Instantly awake, Lauren jolted upright on the couch and stared into the pale blue eyes mere inches from hers. "Oh my God, did I fall asleep?"