Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
With a growl, he shoves away from me, breaking us apart. I rest my head against the tiled wall as he quickly showers. His cursed words under his breath—several aimed at me—are enough to have me keeping out of his way until he finishes.
Be strong, Sheridan.
He’s hurting and breaking apart inside.
It’s not you, it’s him.
Camilo isn’t a cold person, but grief will make you act like an asshole. I of all people know how it feels to lash out at people you care about. There were plenty of times Daddy received my wrath.
Just when I think he’ll leave me alone in the shower, he runs his fingertips down my spine in a tender way. His hand clutches my hip and then he pats it once before escaping. As soon as he’s gone, I step under the spray to finally wash out my shampoo and cry.
I cry for him.
For us.
I cry until the water runs cold and I’m forced to finish my shower in record speed.
By the time I dry off, dress, and do something about my hair, I smell food. I walk into the kitchen. Camilo is gone but there’s a sack of takeout breakfast. He’s left a note.
Sher – Sorry for being a dick. I’ll be back later. – CZ
His note makes me tear up again. I can feel him pulling away from me with each passing moment. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to give him his space or invade it.
For now, I eat my breakfast and try like hell not to cry.
He needs me strong.
I will be strong for him.
I’m pacing the condo hours later when Camilo decides to return. His eyes are bloodshot, and he stumbles in through the door.
“Where have you been?” I demand, my voice shrill. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”
It’s dark now and I’m pissed.
“I was toasting my dad’s honor.” He shrugs, his body swaying. “What do you care?”
My nostrils flare with fury, but I reel my anger back in. I will not fight with a drunk person. “You were at the bar all day?”
“Not all day.”
“Where were you, Camilo?”
He starts to walk toward me but veers hard to the left, clipping his shoulder hard against the wall. “Ow.”
I stalk over to him and grab his biceps. He reeks of alcohol. “Tell me you didn’t drive.”
“I walked. I don’t know where I left the Tahoe.” He slumps toward me, but he’s too heavy. We both fall to the carpet hard. I yelp when my ass hits the floor. “Sher,” he croons. “I’m sorry.”
His lips find my neck as his body practically crushes mine. I’m seething with rage and now my ass hurts.
“You have got to pull yourself together,” I snap. “Right now. I get it. You’re devastated, but this is out of control. You can’t leave me like that. You can’t drink yourself stupid. You need to let me help you get through this.”
He trembles. “I’ll never get through this.”
“You will, Camilo. I did and you will too.” I shove him off of me and rise to my feet. “What happened?” I storm into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee because he desperately needs it. I also text Carson because I need help.
Camilo crawls into the kitchen and lays his cheek on the tile floor. “I had to go to the nursing home to collect his things. Then I had to go see him.”
“Where is he?”
“Laurel Waters Funeral Home.”
“And?”
“I saw him…” His face scrunches and a ragged sob escapes him. “He’s dead, baby.”
Baby.
My anger simmers a bit. I squat beside him and run my fingers through his messy hair. “I know,” I murmur. “You shouldn’t have done this alone, though. I should have been there to help you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I feel so angry and fucking sad all at once.”
“I know you do. It’s okay. We’ll get some coffee in you and then some food. Just let me take care of you.”
He nods and then falls asleep on the floor. I let out a heavy sigh as I stand. This is a lot to handle. I text Estefania, needing her support.
Me: He’s a mess. Drunk and upset.
Estefania: Are you okay?
Me: Yeah. Hanging in there. I want to help him but don’t know how.
Estefania: Maybe call his mother?
Me: I’d rather slay dragons, but you’re probably right.
Estefania: Camilo is a good man who is going through a bad time. He needs a good woman to help him through it. Even if it gets ugly. Love is not always pretty.
How is this girl so wise?
Me: Love you.
Estefania: Love you too, bestie.
As soon as we’re done texting, I fish out Camilo’s phone from his jeans pocket. There are seventeen missed calls from me, several from his mother, and a few from Carson. Bypassing the missed calls, I find his mother’s number.
She answers in a string of Spanish.