Lost at Sea || Shawmila [Completed]

I was catching my breath staring out an open window catching my death

Camila sank back in her chair, her mind reeling. Memories of Shawn, their time together in Harbor Cove, and the moments they had shared flooded her thoughts. How could a person, the man she had loved forever, live his days on this earth only to disappear? It didn't make sense. Shawn was real and alive, in her mind, in her memories, and hopefully somewhere in Maine. Maybe nobody knew where he was, but Camila was sure he was still alive.

Before allowing herself to succumb to despair, she made a decision. "I'm going home." She hung up the receiver, not interested in her father's response, and haphazardly packed a suitcase. It was a scene that had played out far too many times in the past year, and Camila decided it would never happen again. She was tired of running away.

The journey back to Harbor Cove seemed like a mere fragment of her memory. Despite her determination not to fall apart, the news of Shawn's disappearance had completely disconnected her from reality. Days flew by quickly, and Camila hardly noticed. Lost in her mind, she wandered aimlessly through her parents' house in a trance-like state. There were fleeting moments of clarity, leaving her confused and in pain. Her parents feared that Camila had lost her sanity. She moved like a ghost, not uttering a word, her mind somewhere else. More than once, they caught her sitting by the wide-open window of her room, gazing at the harbor, with the chilly air carrying occasional snowflakes that fell during the last days of winter. One night, she had even ventured outside, barefoot on the cobblestone street leading to the lighthouse, realizing it only when her bluish legs, covered by a simple nightshirt, gave way under the weight of her fatigue.

Weeks had passed, two or maybe three, Camila wasn't sure. Still no news of Shawn. The town had lost hope. The harbor workers had gathered for a brief memorial before returning to their work. His parents had secluded themselves at home for a few days, mourning him, and eventually decided to commission a small, modest commemorative plaque in his honor.

Camila, on the other hand, was still waiting. Those initial days of madness that had momentarily turned her into an uncontrollable mechanical doll had passed. Yet her clarity had not returned. Of course, she no longer wandered around like a ghost, but she continued to live under the illusion that Shawn might return.

She went to his house, sneaking in like a thief in the night, and decided to clean it from top to bottom. She dusted every speck, polished every surface, washed every fabric. She wanted everything to be in perfect order for Shawn's return, as if he had never left.

Naturally, her presence in that little house did not go unnoticed, but Shawn's parents didn't have the heart to tell her that she was doing it all in vain, so they let her continue. She padded across his wooden floors, sweeping and rearranging the usual items endlessly, until one day there was a knock on the door.

Camila's chest swelled with happiness and hope as she swung open the door. Before her stood a woman she remembered seeing only once before, right there in the same spot. Her red hair was the same as ever, but her face appeared more tired and gaunt. She spoke softly, "Hello, Camila. May I come in?"

She was surprised that Diane knew her name, but she didn't show it. "Shawn isn't here."

The redhead smiled sadly. "Yeah, I know."

Camila nodded, only now realizing the obviousness of her statement. She stepped aside and let Diane in, suddenly embarrassed by the realization that she was unfairly acting like the host. The two women sat at the small kitchen table, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?" Camila asked with genuine curiosity.

"I heard you were helping to tidy up Shawn's place, and I wanted to see how you're doing."

"But we don't know each other."

Diane let out a sweet, affectionate laugh. "Technically, that's true, but Shawn talked about you so much that it feels like I've known you forever." She placed a plate of cinnamon cookies covered with foil on the table. "I hope I'm not intruding, but I thought we could spend some time together. Go ahead and have one, I brought them for you."

Camila nodded, still slightly hesitant, but she grabbed a cookie and took a bite. "They're Shawn's favorites," she let slip.

"Only because they reminded him of you." Camila raised an eyebrow. Did Diane really know him as well as she implied? Maybe Camila should have been jealous, but she couldn't bring herself to dislike the woman. She didn't know Diane's intentions, but it really seemed like she had come there just for some company. "I'm sorry, I know I look like a weirdo coming here and spouting these kind phrases," Diane said, chuckling in embarrassment.

"No, don't worry... probably no weirder than the woman who has been haunting this place for days on end. We both know I shouldn't be here."

"I don't think Shawn would have minded. He would have done anything to have you by his side."

Camila shook her head. "Maybe once, but the last time I was here, it didn't seem like he felt that way."

"Are you kidding? That man was crazy about you. He never stopped talking about you... really, you didn't notice?"

Camila shook her head, incredulous. "No, I mean, he never said anything to me. He didn't even ask me to stay. I was convinced he didn't care much about my presence." Diane looked at her intently, and Camila swore she saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Why are you crying?"

Diane cleared her throat. "Because I'm sorry. Because I know what it's like to miss out on an opportunity... to lose someone you love."

"Who knows, maybe when he comes back, we can talk."

Diane choked on her tears, which had now started streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she managed to say in a whisper between sobs.

Camila reached out and took the other woman's paler hand in hers. "I know what everyone must think. I know you all think I'm crazy, deluding myself into expecting him to return after weeks of his disappearance. And maybe you're right, maybe Shawn really was swallowed by the sea forever, but I can't afford to think that way. What would I have left?"

And so, a new friendship began. Born out of pain and illusion, it grew strong and thriving. Two women, united in grief, kept each other company day by day. Diane made sure Camila didn't cross the threshold into insanity for good, taking her along on her daily errands or helping her with the repetitive cleaning that Camila insisted on doing. Not much time had passed since they had started talking, yet their bond had drawn them together like sisters. Not surprisingly, they were together when the phone suddenly rang, and a tired voice from the other end informed them that Shawn had been found.