2. Dreaming

4.7K 174 270
                                    

slight trigger warning

*    *    *    *

"Camila?"

I set my keys and jacket down on the dining room table next to the pile of unread mail I'll have to go through eventually. Camila usually gets it before coming in. She should be home but the house feels so empty. It's incredibly quiet.

"Camz, you home?" I try again. The kitchen light is on but everything is still and silent when I walk in. A loud crack of thunder echoes from outside and I jump a little. I shut my eyes and take in a steady breath. "Camila?" I call out once more. My heart thuds against my chest louder than the storm.

I exit the kitchen and begin my search of the house. I take a quick glance around the living area and head straight for our bedroom. Her bag and phone are on the bed and some of the clothes she was wearing this morning are strewn about.

"Where the hell is she?"

Without grabbing my jacket again I leave through the front door, ignoring the torrential downpour. The rain is beating down harshly and within a matter of seconds I'm drenched from head to toe. I push my wet hair out of my face and try to relax a little bit.

I'm getting ahead of myself.

I run a slightly shaking hand down my face, wiping the droplets only to have them immediately replaced in their wake. It's dark out but the streetlights allow me some sort of visibility and I make a lap around the house. Her car is parked safely in the driveway but I'm the only one outside.

"Ugh, come on Camz," I mutter under my breath, standing anxious and confused in the backyard. I can't shake the uneasy feeling in my stomach and I don't know why. She said she was on her way home.

I wipe away the wet hair sticking to my face again and let out a long, frustrated sigh, trying not to panic.

Just as I'm about to go back to the front of the house I catch a glimpse of movement from the kitchen. When I turn back to face it fully I see it's empty, as it was before. I narrow my eyes and step closer.

Still nothing.

Disregarding my racing heart, and the lightning striking in random bursts of light every so often, I tentatively reach for the door. Before I can turn it someone stands up straight and jumps nearly a foot back at the sight of me in the doorway, startling me as well in the process. My hand flies to my chest, clutching at the erratic beating.

Camila composes herself first and even laughs—her face is full and almost childlike—when she realizes it's just me, her tense features easily melting into a heartwarming smile. I feel myself relaxing at the sight of my wife, my hand still holding my chest and a relieved sigh escaping through my nose as I smile back at her.

"Jesus Lauren, what are you doing out here in the rain? You scared me half to death," she said in a more amused tone, rather than scolding as she opens the door for me. I say nothing but I feel myself unable to stop smiling at her. "What?" she asks, tilting her head to the side wearing a small, shy grin.

I reach out and bring my hand up to her cheek, impossibly warm under my cold touch. But she doesn't pull away. I lean in and place a sweet kiss on her lips, holding her against me. After a moment or so she laughs against my mouth and pushes against me.

"You're all wet!"

"Sorry, I couldn't find you."

"Why would I be outside in this weather?"

"I don't know, maybe you went to the garage or something. Where the hell were you?"

"I went to the basement to look in the pantry for extra tomato sauce; I was just about to start dinner," she says as if she doesn't understand why I'm so frantic. Perhaps she's right to feel that way. Maybe I was just overreacting.

Trainwreck (Camren)Where stories live. Discover now