Page 101 of Effortless

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because I don’t know that you do, Cam.”

“I know I freaked out a little.” Camilla made a noise under her breath, and stood from the couch. It made August take a couple of steps back to give Camilla room to move. “But he knew I was like this anyway—I didn’t want serious, Aug, I wanted fun.”

“I think you’re trying to convince yourself of something that no longer applies, Cam.”

“I—”

“And maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt, too.”

Camilla glanced at her friend, confused. “What?”

“Tommaso—give him the benefit of the doubt. You said it, Cam. He knew you were kind of a little crazy when it came to commitment and relationships. Like you’re fucking allergic or something. Some part of him probably expected this to happen, or something like it. He might be a guy, but he still protects himself from getting hurt. Walls, you know?”

“We all have them,” Camilla filled in what her friend didn’t say.

August shrugged. “Yep.”

Well, all things considered, Camila figured it was too little, too late now.

“It’s been a month,” she told her friend. “I haven’t called, or texted. He hasn’t made any effort to contact me. I think we can safely say I fucked up, and it’s done.”

“Mmm, I don’t think it is. At least not for you.”

“I’m not him.”

August nodded. “Nope, but he waited six long months for your crazy ass the first time. What’s one more month, Camilla?”

“Who even says I want to see him or whatever? Maybe I want to go back to doing what I did before I met him.”

“I say it,” August deadpanned.

“Yeah, but—”

“Staying in a comfortable place isn’t courageous, it’s easy.”

“Sure, but—”

“Take a risk, Cam. One that doesn’t involve some stranger you seduced in a club.”

“Hey.”

August waved a hand. “Just saying.”

“Again—”

“Don’t make me tell you that you can’t be helped,” August interjected with a severe look. “Don’t open your mouth and make me say that, Cam.”

She laughed again.

It didn’t taste so bitter that time.

“Cam,” Emma said, her smile growing wider at the sight of her daughter in the kitchen entryway. “I didn’t know you were coming over today.”

Camilla fiddled with her nails, acutely aware that they needed a good manicure. It was easier than looking at her mom. If she stared too long at Emma, her mother would know something was wrong. She didn’t want her mom to worry.

“I was in the neighborhood, Ma.”