Epilogue: part 2

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It was ten o'clock. Just another dead Tuesday in a string of them. Jim Keenan was, again, Camila's only customer. Still, Camila saw the plus side. If she got rid of Jim she could at least close early.

"One more for the road, Jim?" Camila asked, hoping he might get the hint.

"Maybe, doll," Jim said, his raspy voice slurring only slightly. "If I can finally convince you to come home with me."

Camila smiled at their familiar routine.

"I'd give you a heart attack, Jimmy," Camila said with a wink as she poured the shot of bourbon in front of him.

"Probably." Jim nodded. "But that's at the top of my list of ways to go."

Camila laughed as she emptied the bottle, noting she'd have to get another one from the back.

"Besides," Jim continued, "you're not still seeing that Mendes kid, so what, you finally decided to date what's-his-name? Matthew?"

"You're the only guy in my life these days Jim," Camila said with a wink, trying to cover up what her statement meant. It was true, Camila wasn't seeing anyone. After Lauren, Camila had tried to get into the swing of things again. She'd gone on a few dates in the first month, but both guys, while nice, seemed utterly pointless to Camila. The old her might have taken one home just to clear her cobwebs, but Camila couldn't. It just didn't feel the same anymore. Her hands and her battery-operated toys had been her only lover for the better part of a year now and her sexual thoughts were consumed by her night with Lauren.

Camila had tried to break the habit. Tried using her old masturbatory fantasies. But each time they'd left her frustrated and, when she'd break down, she'd again find Lauren in her minds eye. Not just in one of the acts they'd engaged in but in new ones. Fantasies that Camila found herself having as she invariably would continue masturbating.

That had been one of the reasons for the package she'd sent. She'd hoped that shooting herself dressed up for some of those fantasies might get them off her mind. Cooking for Lauren before sex on the kitchen floor. Lauren coming home to untie that yellow ribbon. Even the bridal lingerie was the result of the idea of a hetero fantasy Camila used to have being transferred over to Lauren. Camila had joked in bed about Lauren turning her into a lesbian, but, more and more, Camila was starting to believe it was true. Even scarier, Camila didn't even mind the thought so much.

That was why now, a few days away from Lauren's return, Camila was so tense. She didn't know what she wanted to happen. The thought of Lauren showing up in the bar in a few days terrified her. The thought of Lauren not showing up terrified her. Camila had no idea what to expect or how she'd react. She felt like she was back in school with a book report due and she hadn't read the book.

"I'm going to go get another bottle from the back, Jim," Camila said, letting the business of running her bar interrupt her sexual identity crisis for the umpteenth time in the last few months.

Camila made her way to the back. She stood there for a second, thoughts of Lauren again distracting her from the simple task, before she shook her head clear and grabbed a bottle. She made up her mind to get good and plastered once she kicked Jim out. She stood in the cool back room of her bar for a second before walking out to something she hadn't expected.

Standing in the doorway, large green bag slung over her shoulder, was Lauren.

At first Camila thought it was a mirage. Some sort of sex-starvation induced hallucination, but that idea was quickly dismissed. It was Lauren. Tall, well built and pretty, her raven black hair still in the ponytail beneath her camouflage cap and dressed in fatigues. There was no mistaking the girl she hadn't managed to stop thinking about for five consecutive minutes for lunch. She looked harried and exhausted, but no less appealing for it. Absence, it seemed, had really made the heart grow fonder.

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