Breathe Easy

Chapter 11

The week went on, slowly but surely. There was the same routine in the morning now: waking up at 6:50, getting Freya dressed for school, making a small breakfast, driving her there and then coming back home to do a number of things, like editing pictures and sending them to clients, sorting out my planner.

Camila would just be waking up when I got back, and I would have to endure flirty smiles that made my knees go weak, and she would shove me around whenever I said something sarcastic, allowing her touch to linger a little longer than necessary.

It felt monotonous. Everything always felt so repetitive, but then again that's life. Weekdays were easy for me typically, whereas weekends were quite troublesome, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Camila seemed to have a way of making things bearable. She was full of surprises - like whenever she came into the kitchen in the morning, I'd sometimes be sitting at the table and she would ambushed me with a hug. And not just any kind of hug. Standing at my side, she would wrap her arms around me, squeezing me against her chest, her hands weaving and combing through my hair.

Maybe it was just my imagination getting the better of me, but things were changing. Things were changing between Camila and I, and I wasn't sure how to react. I hadn't divulged to her exactly how I feel yet. The letter I wrote was gone. Somewhere downtown in a thousand little pieces drifting across the earth with the wind.

I thought about kissing her one day - just grabbing her face all passionately, bringing her against me and locking lips with her for the longest like how it is in the movies. It's not just in the movies though, because I'd had romances like that - little stupid flings that were never meant to go any further than a couple nights of meaningless sex - but I had a feeling that this could be real.

I had a certain amount of respect for Camila that I can't say I've ever had for anyone else. I favored her. Attacking her with a kiss didn't seem like the right thing to do anyways, because I see that as an invasion of personal space, unless she gave me consent or something. But what if she slapped me? What if she... What if she hated me for it? I would go mad. I would despise myself for being such an idiot.

So, ultimately I had decided one thing. Kissing her out of the blue and using actions instead of words wouldn't be a good idea.

Sadie called me again Tuesday at noon. I lied and said I had never received her call or the voicemail she left me, which made me feel slightly guilty because she actually talked to me with some respect over the phone. I presumed it was just an act, because what person in their right mind is mean to someone they want something from? That quickly made me feel guiltless.

She wanted me to sort through a some pictures and take a few more for a modeling portfolio soon. She was supposed to be going to an open call at an agency in a few weeks, and though I pretended to care, I really didn't. Apparently she was pretty serious about this whole modeling thing. That was one thing she sounded interested in. Even if it was for five minutes that we talked about it, it was five minutes where she actually sounded alive and didn't talk like an emotionless robot.

This morning after taking Freya to school, instead of making a cup of coffee and slouching over the computer desk in my office room, my bed and I spent some extra time together. That was that, the extra rest was lovely and now it was over. Now, I was parked outside of the Castile residence, wondering why did it have to be me.

Sadie hated me (for some unknown reason that I'm not sure of), so it had to have been her mother who put her up to calling me for the job.

I got out of the car and walked up the familiar driveway, and past all of the rosebushes, and up the steps to the porch. My phone played a little tune as I rang the doorbell. It was Dinah's ringtone. I hurriedly retrieved it from my pocket and answered.