[DISCLAIMER: MATURE CONTENT!!!]
3rd book to the trilogy "We Don't Talk Enough".
Life tosses all these things at you; some you are prepared for, some you aren't, some you thought you'd be prepared for, and some you NEVER thought you'd have to be prep...
A/N: Heads up, this is just a short chapter filled with fluff. Okay? Because the next one is...yeah. Nothing bad to do with Camren but THE DRAMA. This is a fucking soap opera ya tu sabes y si tu no sabes, bueno ahora tu sabes you late fuck.
The song that Lauren hears in her head is Hypnotised by Years & Years and honestly listen or don't but it fits really well with the entire fucking wedding.
Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte:
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"All men are liars, inconstant, hollow, talkative, hypocrites, proud and cowards, contemptible and sensual; all woman are perfidious, artificial, vain, curious and depraved; the world is nothing but a bottomless sewer where the most shapeless seals crawl and wriggle on mountains of muck; but there one single thing in this world, saint and sublime, it's the union of these two beings so imperfect and dreadful. We are often deceived in love, often wounded and often miserable; but we love, and when we are on of the verge of the grave, we look back, and we say: I often suffered, I erred sometimes: but I loved. It is me who lived and not a factitious being created by my pride and my boredom." - Alfred Musset
***
The Jauregui and Cabello family rode in in three separate old fashioned luxury cars, polished white and yellow, with elegance straight from a scene of a vintage French film, the tires eating the grovel until halting in perfect order. The middle car was first to greet the chilling autumn air in the early evening as Chris exited first, adjusted his suit jacket and held open the door for the kids, Winston, Mercedes, Aya, Stephanie and Naomi to pool out of, each of them cleaned up well for the occasion. Then the first car with Alejandro zooming out the backseat, rounding the trunk of the car to open the door for his daughter. He looked to the last car and waited on Cruz's cue to open the doors simultaneously. One thumbs up later, out came Camila with her father's help, her hands secured in his large ones, tightly, like the wind would blow her away if they let their guard down.
She absorbed the expansive proportional Baroque gardens leading up to the extravagant château; the regal grounds bathed in not only the moonlight's milky glow but the blend of pink and sepia tones from the plethora of lights built in all over the property. The level of ease into the complete and utter mind-shattering grandeur of the place made her feel right at home—smack dab in the middle of a fairytale she crafted at age ten in a composition notebook. It was so distracting, Camila had nearly forgotten about her wife who had taken her sweet time climbing out of the 1940s vehicle, hands twisting and radiant emerald eyes fixated to the mini rocks beneath her wedges. She pivoted and had to do a double take but so did Lauren. They hadn't seen each other two hours before arriving.
Apparently they had switched bodies.
Lauren's hair was twisted and done up in a bun, loose curls dangling around her maturing face enhanced with special touches of makeup highlighting her better features; a string of white flowers dangling from her ears to match the ones blended and embroidered into her simple sheer chiffon-white gown, trailing all the way to her feet. It could very well have been the bite of the cold that made her suck in a deep breath and tense up with shock...or maybe it was the fact that the woman she was staring at was styled in a pearl grey tuxedo popping with dark emerald details. The secret was Camila just wanted to match her eyes. Camila divorced the diamonds, the usual extravagance in her appearance and opted for shiny bundles of straight hair sitting behind her shoulders except for a long strand swinging in the wind before her face, glammed with soft tones of bronze and rose.
