Lauren knew she shouldn't be drinking, especially since the feelings of nausea from this morning's events had just only begun to subside, but it was just too easy. After leaving the house, feeling completely crushed, she needed something to take the edge off. She didn't really mean to, it just kind of happened. She had initially pulled into the parking lot of the small shopping complex because her vision was blurred by her tears. Damn, that sounded pathetic. You are pathetic.
After ten straight minutes of breathing exercises, she finally reopened her eyes, her gaze settling on the wine and spirits shop tucked away in the corner. Convenient. Opening her glove compartment, she found the small film canister she kept hidden under the stacks of insurance papers. Uncapping it and flipping it over, a wade of rolled cash met her palm. Quickly doing some calculations, she stuffed a handful of bills into her pocket and exited the car.
---
The drive was silent aside from Ariana's occasional humming, but Camila didn't mind. She wasn't sure she could even talk right now. Her lungs felt restricted. Her eyes pivoted at the outside world as it passed by through the confines of the SUV's tinted windows. Like her mind, those brown orbs could hardly focus on one thing for too long. There was just too much happening, too many stimuli. She inhaled with a quivering breath, trying to calm her still rapidly beating heart.
"Baby?" She felt a hand on her knee. "You coming or are you gonna try and lay an egg first?" Her wife teased. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even realize that the car had stopped. Quickly scanning her surroundings she realized they were at the Grande's favorite Italian restaurant, Renzo's. Again. Tradition, baby. Italian's are all about tradition. She recalled her wife once saying, her laugh tinkering in her ears.
"Yeah." She exhaled, unbuckling her seatbelt.
"Mila," The older woman caught her hand, giving it a squeeze. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah" She sighed again. Liar.
Far from it. Everything was going just fine. She was finally getting used to that constant, dull ache in her chest, as opposed to the sharp, shooting pain that used to haunt her every time she so much as blinked. It was almost comforting at this point, like a constant, unfulfillable longing that she had learned to accept. But with the appearance of the green-eyed woman, all progress had been thrown out the door. "I just.."
"Lauren." Her wife nodded knowingly. "Come on," she encouraged. "Let's go. I'm sure Frankie's antics will help get your mind off things." She laughed and the two got out of the car.
Camila shut the car door, pausing briefly to squeeze her eyes shut, willing herself to lighten up for the sake of the dinner. It was the first time they were meeting with the family since the wedding, the first time she was going to interact with her official family-in-law.
When they got inside, an over-zealous blonde engulfed the two in his muscular arms.
"Mila! Ariana!" Frankie cried, squishing the two in his chest. "Come, Mummy's waiting." He smiled, linking arms with the two, skipping toward the back of the restaurant, consequently dragging the two along with him. Ariana let out a boisterous laugh, covering her mouth with her small, carefully manicured hand, attempting to skip alongside her brother.
Camila tried to match her wife's energy, but found that the bouncing around only made her stomach feel more uneasy. She forced herself to giggle, something that sounded more like a strangled cat than a laugh.
"Mila, it's great to see you, again." A short Italian lady in all black greeted, kissing both her cheeks. "You get more and more beautiful every time I see you."
