Wait For Me To Come Home

Chapter 17

Lauren woke up early the next morning and left Camila to sleep. She brewed a pot of coffee and took it into her office, seating herself behind her desk. She didn't even attempt to do any work, she just stared through the open blinds, watching the sun rise over the city. She was tired, but she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Her mind was still reeling from last night.

The sun was high in the sky when Lauren heard the door open behind her. She spun her chair around, facing Camila who had her head poked through the gap. "Oh, there you are. I didn't know where you were," Camila said, giving Lauren a small smile.

"I didn't want to wake you," Lauren replied, looking down at her coffee mug as she toyed with it.

"You look tired," Camila said, slipping into the room and walking over to Lauren. She sat down on the edge of her desk and stroked Lauren's cheek affectionately. Lauren looked up and gave her a sad smile.

"I couldn't sleep properly," she mumbled. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and held her hand out for Camila to take. "Come on, let's get you some breakfast."

They walked out to the kitchen, and Lauren opened the fridge before turning to look at Camila. "What do you want to eat?" Lauren asked her.

"What do you want," Camila laughed, coming up behind Lauren and wrapping her arms around her waist.

"No, it's fine. I'll make breakfast," Lauren insisted, "I'll have to go back to relying on my chef when you leave if I don't learn now."

Camila's arms loosened as she pulled back. "I'm sorry," she murmured, a lump forming in her throat.

"Don't apologize, it's not your fault. They shouldn't be allowed to just-, to just tell you you're being promoted. You should have a say in this. You should get more notice," Lauren said bitterly as she reached for a carton of eggs.

Camila was silent and Lauren rounded on her, taking in Camila's ashamed expression. "What is it?" Lauren asked, frowning slightly as she brushed past Camila and pulled out a frying pan. "Scrambled, fried or poached?"

"Fried," Camila muttered, fiddling with the cuff of her shirt. She could feel the overwhelming guilt rising inside her.

"Well? What's bothering you?" Lauren asked, raising an eyebrow at Camila as she waited for her to answer her other question.

"I-, well, they don't just promote you," Camila said slowly as she looked at the floor. "I, uh, y-you need to go to training ... to become a commissioned officer. Th-they make you complete a twelve week course before. I-, it's not ... it's not a sudden thing."

Lauren turned around, frowning at Camila. "I don't understand. You haven't completed the train-" She trailed off at the guilty look on Camila's face.

Lauren's jaw tightened and her eyes prickled with tears. "No," she whispered furiously.

"Lauren" Camila begged, reaching out for her, but falling short as Lauren took a step backward.

"No. Please tell me you didn't," Lauren gasped, one hand grabbing a handful of her shirt, right over her heart, which was racing as the implication behind Camila's words sank in. The other clutched the carton of eggs, forgotten about for the time being.

"I-I wanted to tell you," Camila started, wiping the tears that had started to fall down her cheeks.

The eggs dropped to the floor, cracking on impact and oozing across the floor as Lauren stared at Camila with shock and hurt. She turned around and clutched the edge of the kitchen counter, her tears dripping down to the floor as she held back her sobs.