Should Have Known (Camren)

Chapter 46

"Camila?" I half-shouted, half-whispered.

I poked my head around the corner backstage but saw no sign of her anywhere. The halls had cleared quickly after the show ended and the dim lighting made it difficult to see where I was going, much less to locate Camila and find out what she had to tell me. I stepped out into the open space behind the curtains and shifted my weight to one side, scratching my chin thoughtfully as I pondered where in the world she could be. I reached into the pocket of my jacket and retrieved the note she had given me at breakfast- having kept it with me all day long for safe-keeping- and read over her messy handwriting. I flipped the slip of paper over in search of any clue as to where she might have been, but of course I came up empty handed.

I sighed and shoved the note back in my pocket, too tired and too frustrated to deal with Camila's games. All I wanted was to hear whatever she had to say. The fact that literally anything could escape her lips and I had no way of knowing what it would be until the moment came had haunted me all day long. Any time she shared something with me I worked myself up to the point of a twisted stomach and spinning head. Her words outside of the bedroom had become such a rarity that the anticipation that usually accompanied hearing them had intensified beyond repair. I didn't have time for mind games. Each second that I worried what she could be thinking was another that reminded me that I was no longer allowed inside her head, and the idea was tearing me to shreds.

I heard what sounded like wood scraping across the stage and whipped around to face the sound, finding that I was blocked by the curtains. I took a step towards them but didn't go any further. I couldn't. My feet were glued to the ground. I knew in the back of my mind that Camila was on the other side. Of course it was her. Nothing was ever simple with her. She couldn't just meet me backstage and tell me what was on her mind; she had to form some elaborate plan to spill her feelings to me, but that was what I loved about her. Every second with her kept me on my toes, but knowing that she had evidently planned a surprise just to tell me a bit of information reminded me that whatever it was, it was important. I was scared. I was frozen with fear and I didn't want to push those curtains open. I didn't want to step through to the other side to find her with tears streaming down her face, finally ready to confess that she no longer had feelings for me, or even worse- that someone new was making her happy. I expected the worst because that was all I had received for almost eleven months without her by my side. I always got the tail end of the deal- stuck biting my tongue to keep from confessing my feelings for her because I feared that she had moved on, or torturing myself on a nightly basis when I watched her take her clothes off in front of my eyes but refrained from touching her like I used to. It was always worst case scenario with her, but what if the tables had finally turned? I didn't know what to expect when I met her on the other side of that curtain, but I did know one thing- I would never find out what was going on inside her head if I didn't swallow the lump in my throat and face her.

I took a deep breath and stepped through to the other side, relieved to find her smiling back at me with a guitar in her hand. She sat on a stool in the middle of the stage and had apparently saved me a seat as well, patting the top of it and signaling for me to join her. I made my way over to her and sat down, watching as she carefully tuned the instrument that she held.

"Glad you could make it," she smiled.

"I don't have anywhere else to be," I reminded her.

She nodded and repositioned the guitar on her lap, wrapping her fingers around the neck and plucking a few of the strings.

"What is all this?" I asked. "You said you had to tell me something..."

"Two things actually," she corrected.

"So why are we in the middle of the stage?" I pressed.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I thought it would be a good place to tell you some things that have been on my mind. Earlier it was filled with thousands of people and now it's quiet and empty. It's kind of nostalgic."