I pressed Reece's key into his apartment door. The take-out bag of chicken soup filled my senses. I even went the extra mile and ordered him chamomile tea with honey. Dolores had said he'd been sick for a while; tea and food would do the trick.
The lock came undone. The doorknob turned. When I let myself inside, a million thoughts rushed through my head. What could I say to him? Would he listen? I believed he would. I needed to thank him.
My gaze settled on the bookshelves as I closed the door behind me. Some had been pulled from their place, then lazily returned to a sloppy position. His desk was the same sloppy, unorganized, mind of a creator's mess. "Oh, Reece," I whispered.
There were slow footsteps to my right. It had to be from his room. I clutched the take-out in my hands and sidestepped. His door was open, light beaming through his dim kitchen and living room. He coughed.
I frowned as he stepped out of his space and rubbed his eyes. "Dolores?" Reece's voice was hoarse.
But I wasn't her. Could I be sweet in my greeting? Or maybe I could be goofy, a little "Honey, I'm home!"
Reece was half-dressed with no socks, scratching the back of his head. With his arm up, nails gently rolling over his scalp, his biceps stretched. His eyes slid up in my direction. When he saw me, he stopped.
We stayed like that for a moment with him in the kitchen and me in the living room. I glanced at his food in one hand and then at the book in the other. I held my breath as we stared at each other. Quiet with just the sound of reverberating breathing.
Then he sneezed.
"Oh, Reece." I quickly walked over and closed the space between us. I placed the food, tea, and book on the table before looping my arms around him in a soft hug. With a sigh, I touched his forehead next. "You're warm," I said.
"I'm sick." His eyes searched my face as he honestly responded to me. I already broke a small part of the promise I made to Dolores. He needed care and I was planning to stay.
His brows creased together as he sighed, covering his mouth to suppress another cough. "Camila, why are you here?"
"I needed to tell you something," I said, pressing my lips together.
Reece cleared his throat, lifting his brows slightly. They shot up higher when I didn't say anything. His jaw dropped, too. His eyes panned over me with confused excitement as he stopped beck.
I knew what went through his head. Unexpected pregnancy. "Oh, wait, no!" I laughed, putting my hands on his chest. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not that."
He chuckled through a small cough. "I mean, you come over to my place unexpectedly and tell me those scary words, ya know." He reached for my hands as if nothing bad had ever happened. "I wouldn't run if that was the news. I think I should say that."
My heart fluttered. "I appreciate your honesty."
He pulled me closer. He closed his eyes and placed his warm head against mine. "Camila, I'm happy you're here," he whispered.
"I know." I touched his cheeks. "I need to—"
His eyes fluttered open and his gaze held mine. "I shouldn't have done what I did before and that wasn't my decision to make—"
I searched his eyes as I found my words. "My story placed in the contest and the event is this weekend. I'm invited."
Reece's eyes widened. He coughed, but the overly large grin he shared right after was beautiful. That single dimple I missed appeared, accentuating his handsome face. "It placed? You placed? It placed! You!"
He grabbed me. He held me. We spun in a circle as he lifted me off my feet. "You did it, baby," he whispered happily.
Baby. I missed it when he called me that.
Smiling, I nodded, holding him tightly with my arms around his neck. "I did. And I did because you entered my story."
He put me back on my feet and looked into my eyes. "I did but the wrong way. I should've apologized then—"
"You did," I said.
"But I should've respected your wishes and talked to you first." He brushed his nose over mine. "Knowing that you were mad at me ate at me every day" he whispered. "You were, you are, my morning and evening thought. Every day."
My heart sped in my chest. Even with his hoarse voice, I heard the love within his words. "It hurt when I couldn't see you," he said after a moment.
I reached for his book and held it between us. My brows pinched together mixed with happiness and regret as I whispered, "I've never had someone tell me they love me through a poem."
As he softened and sighed, I broke our gaze to flip to the end of the book. I traced the line of his confession. "I've never had someone tell me they love me," I whispered.
"Camila." Reece cupped my face as he looked at me and smiled. "Everything was fast between us, but I knew we kept meeting for a reason. Our souls aligned. Call me mushy. Call me old-fashioned. You expressed your struggles and desires at the diner, and I saw the other half of my soul in you. I fell for you until I couldn't let you go."
Emotion swelled in my chest. Honestly, I felt the same way. We were the same and our interests aligned so perfectly. There were days when I couldn't help but notice myself in him; him in me. Two souls separated and have found each other; a love worth having.
Tears rimmed my eyes as I smiled apologetically. "I understand why you did what you did and thank you for taking that chance when I thought I couldn't." Biting my bottom lip, I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry for getting mad at you."
"Don't be sorry." His thumb moved across my cheek. As a tear slipped free and glided down my face, Reece brushed it away. "I love you, Camila."
He said it. The words left his lips. My eyes snapped open, and I saw the soft smile on his face. The dimple. The handsome swoon took over his gaze as he dipped his head to the side. He looked at me as if I were the only thing that mattered.
As I held his gaze, my heart fluttered. The emotions that had been developing in my heart swelled to the surface. Lifting my hands, I cupped his face and whispered, "I love you, Reece."
He smiled and moved closer. His bare feet touched the tips of my shoes. "Really?" he whispered.
I giggled, nodding, looking over at the soup and tea. "Really," I whispered back.
He chuckled, sweet and cute. He grinned. "I'd kiss you," he said, "but the last thing I want is to get you sick, too." He quickly covered his mouth to block his cough. "This shit isn't fun."
My hands slid down his chest as I stepped back. "I'm sure it isn't. So, let's eat some soup and get you socks, hm?"
"All right," he reached for my hand and turned for his room, "I'll put on more clothes."
***
Reece was set on having his early lunch with me. So, I served us both. Putting the bowls on the small coffee table in front of his TV, we sat on the couch but on opposite ends. Reece flicked on Netflix, scrolled to a random show, and hit play.
"So, how are you feeling?" he asked, leaning forward to grab his food.
Amazing. My story had a place in the contest. The guy of my dreams told me he loved me. My heart was reeling, fleeting with emotions. I just wanted to sit back and let all the feelings come over me.
He slurped his soup. "I'm going to take the silence as a happy shock," he pointed at me with his spoon, "judging by that smile on your face."
Giggling, I reached for my bowl. "Very happy. I've got to thank Dolores for today, too."
Reece snorted as he ate. "Because she just gave you the keys to my place."
I took a bite of my food. "Are you mad?" Raising my brow, I licked my lip. "I can leave if you want."
"Nope." He reached out and touched the side of my face. "Dolores did the right thing."
My smile didn't fade. I thought of the kind old woman and what she told me about Reece. I knew she didn't have to, and maybe she shouldn't have; it was his business. But the facts sat in my head. Curiosity fueled. I bit the corner of my lip as I moved noodles around with my spoon. "Can I ask a question?"
Reece nodded. "Of course, baby."
I cleared my throat, staring at a carrot floating in the middle of my bowl. "Is Dolores your...?" I wasn't sure how to finish my question, so I threw it out like a lore aching for a fish.
Reece stopped chewing and put his bowl down. When I lifted my head, he was looking at me, smiling. He bit the lore. "Dolores, emotionally, is my mother, yes. If that's what you're asking."
Emotionally? My brows pinched together.
He chuckled into a small cough, looking away as he covered his mouth. "Remember when you asked me if I ever had imposter syndrome or writer's block or anything like it?" He glanced back at me, and I nodded. "I said I had a lot of darkness, Camila. I went to the library to escape it. And Dolores, God, she's been working there for years. She saw me every day and knew. My home was empty, no one cared, so Mama D swooped in and saved me."
Mama D. That's what it said in his book. I frowned as I listened and reached out to touch his knee. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
He shook his head. "Don't be. My mother had her struggles and I never blamed her. Maybe one day I'll see her again."
I shrugged.
"But Dolores, she's my mama. She gave me the tools to express myself, and the books to fall into. My pain... I turned it into my creative strength. Instead of sitting in it, all sad, I crafted stories or poems." He bit his lip. "It bled out of me so much, I never hit a wall."
I wasn't sure how to take all of what he said. It could've been many things, but my mind settled on one. There was so much of his past filled with pain that there wasn't a reason to be stuck. He wrote from experience and then wrapped it into stories. Like the horror draft I saw on his desk.
"Well," I sighed and smiled, "I once had a school counselor tell me that journals helped with sad feelings."
"They do!" He laughed. "I developed a paper obsession because of it."
"Me too!" I giggled as I took another spoonful of soup. "I guess I know what to give you for your birthday."
"December 21st," he said.
I blinked at him, soup settling in my cheek. He laughed. "That's my birthday," he said.
Oh, so close to Christmas. "Okay, double the gifts, double the paper, double the fun! Can't just give you one when a holiday is that close. Wouldn't be right."
A smile lifted Reece's lips. He stared at me without saying words. His eyes in all their beautiful, auburn glory shined with happiness. He sighed and cupped my cheek. "I love you," he said.
I leaned into his palm. "I love you, too."