Never Say Never Rachael Sommers (story read aloud txt) 📖

putting a stop to the spark that flickered to life whenever she and Emily were alone, but at least now it was done. She had seen the pain in Emily’s eyes before she turned and walked away and knew that things would be different, colder, from now on between the two of them.

Camila sat at her desk, holding her head in her hands because she realized she might be falling in love, and she wasn’t supposed to, not again, and damn Emily with her bright smile and sunny personality, damn her for bulldozing the walls that Camila kept around her heart because she didn’t think she’d ever be the same again.

If Jaime were there, she could at least go and watch him sleep, kiss his head, and inhale his scent, letting him calm her racing heart and mind.

But then if Jaime were there, Camila wouldn’t have spent the evening with Emily in the first place, and she wouldn’t even be in this mess.

Which was Chris’s fault, so fuck him, because it was a hell of a lot easier to blame him than admit that she had let Emily get too close, let her believe there was a chance at something for the two of them, and now she had crushed the girl’s heart in the palm of her hand.

Emily would be all right, Camila told herself. She was young, she was beautiful; she would have no trouble finding someone new.

Camila, on the other hand, would not, but her heart had been broken enough times to know that she would survive, even if she had to leave a piece of it behind.

* * *

Emily spent the weekend with Cassie and Maia, who did everything they could to keep her mind off Camila.

It worked—most of the time.

And when it didn’t, she found ways to keep herself occupied. But Sunday night, back in her own apartment, she slept fitfully, stomach knotted over what would happen when she went to work in the morning.

Her routine didn’t change—groan when the alarm went off, hit snooze and hide under a pillow until it went off again, drag herself into the shower, dress with her eyes half-closed, and sip her coffee and munch on a piece of toast while she caught up on the news.

Only this morning one of the headlines was “Camila Evans Spotted Cozying Up with Mystery Woman.” Emily clicked on the link, wondering if Camila had been seeing someone this whole time.

The page opened to show two grainy photos, one of Camila guiding Emily to the restaurant exit, her hand on Emily’s back.

The photo had been taken from far enough away that only Camila was recognizable, and the second photo that showed them leaving the restaurant didn’t show her face. The article speculated on the mystery woman’s identity and on whether Camila was having a midlife crisis. Emily closed the link before reading the rest of it and, stomach churning, set her mug down.

She was grateful they hadn’t followed them to the bar—or memorialized the dramatic exit.

She wondered if she should mention the article to Camila, wondered if that classified as unprofessional, hated that she now had to speculate about what she could and couldn’t say around her.

By the time she got to Camila’s apartment, she had decided to wait and see how Camila reacted to her first.

After hesitating a moment—should she knock this time?—she walked in like she usually did, unlocking the door with her key, kicking off her shoes, and padding into the living room.

Camila was in the kitchen typing something on her phone. Jaime was eating his cereal in his usual spot at the breakfast bar.

“Good morning, Emily.” Camila kept her eyes on her phone, and Emily told herself that her cool greeting didn’t send a shard of glass through her heart.

“Good morning, Ms. Evans.”

Camila looked up at the formal greeting but didn’t say anything, returning her attention to her phone.

“Emily!” At least Jaime was happy to see her. She stepped in close and ruffled his hair.

“Hey, buddy. You have a good weekend with your dad?”

“It was okay.” Jaime scrunched up his nose.

“What did you do?”

“I rode a pony!”

“You did? Did you like it?”

“It was too tall.”

Emily chuckled. “Maybe you can try again when you’re a little bigger.”

Jaime nodded and turned back to his cereal.

Emily tapped her fingers on the bar. She felt more anxious now than she had her first time there.

“Is everything all right, Emily?” Camila looked at her, a challenge in her gaze, as if daring Emily to bring up what happened the other night.

“Have you, um, read the weekend news?”

“I had other things to do.” Camila’s curt response let Emily know she should know that already, that it was a stupid question that she shouldn’t have asked.

If Camila was going to be petty, then so was she. “Right. Never mind. I’m sure you’ll see it eventually.”

Camila opened her mouth to say more, but Emily had already turned away from her, focusing instead on Jaime, who had finished his breakfast and was climbing down from his stool.

He dragged her over to play with his action figures. Emily glanced back at Camila, who was watching with her jaw clenched. Emily had thought it would feel good if Camila felt as miserable as she did, but it only left her feeling empty.

“I shouldn’t be back too late tonight,” Camila said as she shrugged into her coat before leaning down to kiss Jaime goodbye.

“All right. Have a good day, Ms. Evans.”

Camila’s mouth tightened, but she didn’t respond. Emily sighed when the front door closed.

Well.

That had gone just about as she had imagined it would.

* * *

Camila paused in the hallway after closing the door. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, gathering herself.

The morning had gone like she’d expected—stilted and awkward—and when she had seen Emily’s face, it had almost been enough to make her crack, to say that she’d been drunk on Friday night, that she had said things she didn’t mean, and could things just go