Write Me A Love Story

Chapter Twenty-Three:

What do you do when you feel the trust is broken?

*

"Okay, calm down. Tell me what happened again," Nancy's voice calmed me that night. Having her on facetime was the only option. She closed tonight and getting to my house right after wasn't fair to her, considering she opened the next morning. As much sleep as possible was a priority,

But I was happy she made room for me. Because I needed her,

Refilling my glass with the same sparkling wine Reece and I shared that one night, I sniffled into my cup. "I almost finished my story, and backed out of this competition, but Reece entered my work anyway."

"Okay." Nancy adjusted her phone camera. She lay in bed with a blanket up to her chin. Her brows creased as she tried to look closer at me. "Are you crying?"

Sniffing, I nodded.

"Honey," Nancy sighed, "I want you to try and dry your tears, okay? I know he went behind your back and did this, but you're too pretty to cry."

I sipped from my glass and rubbed my nose. What Nancy said made me laugh. My mom would tell me the same thing because I when I was a kid, I cried for everything. I guess, today, even as an adult... I still did. I was sensitive. Was that a crime?

"Did he say why he did it?" Nancy raised her brows. "Not trying to defend him, I just want to know his reasons."

I took another sip. No, a gulp. Two big gulps from my glass. "He said he couldn't let me not enter. He said I deserved this chance and I needed to take the opportunity."

Nancy frowned. I couldn't tell if it was pure sadness or utter disappointment. It was an even combination of the two. When she shifted in bed, her palm pressed against her cheek. "Can I ask why you didn't want to enter? It was all you talked about for days. This whole month."

I frowned, looking into my glass. I was two sentences away from a refill. "I don't know," I swirled the slim contents, "I looked at my story last night and just got scared."

"Scared?" Nancy blinked at her camera. "Scared of..." she paused, quietly fishing for an answer.

My frown deepened. Finishing my glass, I quickly refilled it. "Of being seeing. Being heard."

"Oh, Camila." Nancy shifted in her bed to get a better look at me. She lay on her stomach with her chin on her hands. The look of sympathy on her face should have warmed me, but I felt pathetic. Maybe I had made the wrong choice. Maybe I was too hard on Reece. He made the option and did what I would've done if I hadn't been such a chicken shit. All of my hard work would've gone to waste.

"Listen to me, again, not defending him." She lifted her hands the best she could with the position she lay in. "But Reece really cares about you. How long have you guys been together now? I mean, well, before today."

Did we break up this morning? I guess that's what it felt like. There just wasn't a proper goodbye.

"Like, really together? In a relationship?" I asked, sipping my fresh cup.

Nancy blinked. "Was there another type of relationship before this?"

I snickered, blowing air into my cup enough that wine splashed up at my nose. I wiped it clean. "Well... we started off as friends... then, I've been his girl for, what, two weeks?"

Nancy got closer leaving no room for any background image in her video feed. "Two weeks? Man, y'all had this whirlwind romance, huh? The way he looked at you, that wasn't a two-week-old relationship. He saw you."

I sighed. She said she wasn't trying to defend him, but what she said was true. Everything came so fast and I rolled with it. The connection I felt with him was instant. And every time I saw him and got closer, that link grew. My attraction erupted and fell off the edge when he kissed me, and from then... I felt like we'd always been together. It all felt so natural.

If we had been together for years, would I have been mad like I was this morning?

"Judging by the look on your face, you're thinking about what I just said." Nancy sighed. "I'm not saying you need to forgive him—he went behind your back. But what I'm saying is... I've never seen you so happy before. I've never seen you take chances. You're my best friend—"

When the words left her mouth, my head shot up and I focused on her video feed. She was my best friend, too. I just never openly said it to her. But to hear her say it, it warmed my heart. I gave her a small smile.

"—And I want you to do what's best for you. But," she pointed at her phone, "I do think you should talk to him. Even if you give it a few days and let the feeling, the anger, and stuff, fade away... but definitely hear him out. If you don't forgive him, fine. But I think you owe it to yourself to listen."

"To listen," I repeated, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

*

I told myself I could do that. Listen to him. But Nancy said to give it a few days. I waited for more than a few.

It was three weeks before I thought of the possibility of texting or calling him. A large part of me thought I'd waited too long and whatever we had in our quick romance would be gone. I had hope, right? I could only have that.

Waking up early on a Wednesday morning, I settled on texting him first thing. Maybe I'd be the first message he'd see. Maybe I'd be the smile on his way to work. But when I had pulled out my phone, fully prepared to go back to our old message thread, the 'M' notification appeared.

An email.

Why?

I held my breath as pulled down the icon. I let it out when my email's inbox appeared. That breath was a scream.

Camila Rodriguez, you have been selected, and shortlisted for our contest. Details of the ceremony are enclosed.

I slid off my bed and brought my blankets with me. Nearly falling as they wound around my feet, I stumbled out of my room, reading the rest of the email with my jaw basically on the floor.

On Saturday, August 11, we will announce the winners. As a shortlister, you're invited to attend (this is optional.) Dinner will be provided. Open bar for attendees 21+.

Saturday. Three days from now. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

"Franny. FRANNY!" I slid into the kitchen and scooped up the Queen. She screeched at the motion and flailed her little legs, but I held her. I spun with her. And I listened to the happy heart beats in my chest.

"My story made it to the end," I whispered in her ear. "It can possibly win the whole contest!"

Franny didn't want to hear it. I probably ruined her entire morning. Not only did I run out of my room screaming, but feeding her wasn't my first next step; but scooping her up like a rag doll was.

She bit at my hand until I let her go. Admitting defeat there, I walked over to the cabinet and grabbed one of the cans. "I can't believe it..." Her breakfast clinked on the counter. "Reece was right..."

If he hadn't gone behind my back and entered the contest for me, I wouldn't be in this morning's excitement. I would've been sitting in regret, beating myself up for not taking a chance. The local news would've reported the contest, since the event was here, and I would've sulked. I imagined the ceremony like the Grammys—glitz, glam, dramatic Princess hand waves—but I wouldn't have been with them; I would've watched from my couch with a pint of ice cream in my lap.

Reece helped make this happen. He said he would. And all he did was enter my name.

I scooped Franny's food into her bowl. "I need to go, Queen," I said, tossing the empty can in the trash. "I need to tell Reece."