Chapter 103
Camila POV
“Make sure you eat properly!” my mom said, dragging my face in her palms like I was five again, her fingers squishing my cheeks together like dough. I tried to dodge, but she was fast.
“Mum… I groaned, attempting to wriggle out of her grip, but she wasn’t letting go. “I’ll be fine.”
She gave me one last squeeze before finally pulling back, smoothing down the already smooth lapels of my jacket like I hadn’t been standing still for twenty minutes doing absolutely nothing.
And make sure not to stay out late,” she added, her voice turning into that familiar, nagging hum that somehow still managed to be comforting. The kind that sticks with you even after the words stop.
I nodded, not really answering–just enough to make her feel like she was being heard, while my brain did its best to block out the airport noise swallowing up her words. The constant chattering, the announcements echoing across the terminal, the clicking of rolling suitcases–God, it was loud.
“Enjoy your honeymoon,” I muttered, almost like a reflex.
Her cheeks flushed, a soft pink blooming across them like a guilty teenager. She glanced at Greg, who was busy handing their boarding passes to the agent. Then her gaze flicked back to me.
“I will,” she whispered, and there was this awkward gleam in her eyes that I refused to overanalyze.
She turned to Ethan–because of course she had to say something to him too–and my stomach twisted just a little when her hand landed on
his arm.
“Please take care of her,” she said.
And he, in the most Ethan–way possible, gave her one of those perfectly innocent, sweet–boy smiles that made me wanna throw up a little in my mouth.
“Always,” he replied, and I swear to God, I wanted to trip him.
After the last wave and a few more don’t–forget–to–text–me’s and I–love–you’s, they finally disappeared through the gate, hand in hand. Just like that, she was gone. Off to sip coconut water somewhere tropical with her werewolf husband. Classic.
I turned to Ethan. “You’re not gonna say anything weird like ‘now we’re alone at last, are you?” I mumbled under my breath, following
behind him.
He chuckled.
The car ride was quiet. Weirdly quiet.
I just stared out the window as the city blurred by, still in that post–goodbye daze. Until I noticed something.
“This isn’t the right turn,” I said, straightening up in my seat, eyebrows instantly pulled together.
Ethan didn’t answer. He just kept driving like I hadn’t said a damn thing.
“Ethan?” I asked again, a little louder this time. “Where the hell are you taking me?”
He glanced at me, completely unbothered. “To get some ice cream.”
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“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
I blinked. “We just said goodbye to my mom at the airport. You’re really taking me for ice cream like this is some kind of rom–com?
“It’s comfort food,” he said with a shrug. “You look like you need it.”
I scoffed, leaning my head against the window. “I don’t need ice cream.”
He didn’t say anything. He just kept driving, the stupid smug silence louder than any words he could’ve said.
But the longer we drove, the more my irritation started to melt. Mostly because, well… I did kinda want ice cream.
By the time he pulled up to this tiny, tucked–away ice cream shop with a flickering neon sign that said Chill AF, I was too tired to protest. The air smelled like vanilla and burnt sugar as we stepped inside. There were fairy lights strung across the ceiling, and some indie music playing too low for me to make out the lyrics.
“What flavor?” Ethan asked, already halfway to the counter.
I looked over the options. “Mint chocolate chip.”
“Of course,” he muttered with a tiny smirk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrowed my eyes.
He handed me the cup without answering, then got his own (something basic–vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. What a child). We found a spot near the window, and sat there in silence, just spooning ice cream into our mouths.
When we finished, we sat in the car for a few minutes, neither of us rushing to head back to the mansion. The sun was already starting to dip below the skyline, casting everything in a warm, sleepy kind of orange.
“I’m driving back,” I said, holding out my hand for the keys.
Ethan didn’t argue. He just handed them over with that same unreadable smile he always wore.
I pulled out of the parking lot and turned toward the road without hesitation.
But maybe I should’ve hesitated just a little.
Because ten minutes into the drive… I hit someone.
Okay, not HIT hit. More like lightly tapped. Nudged. Gently bullied them with the bumper. But still, I felt my stomach nose–dive into my shoes the second it happened.
“Shit!”
I slammed the brakes, the tires squealing louder than my thoughts. My hands were glued to the steering wheel, knuckles bone white, and my eyes locked on the guy I just may or may not have run over.
He stumbled back a little, rubbing his hip with a wince. A very dramatic wince. “I’m okay,” he said, giving me a thumbs up like we were on a game show. “I think?”
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Chapter 103
My face went up in flames.
Oh my God–I’m so sorry!” I yelled through the rolled–down window. I could feel heat crawling up my neck, burning into my ears. This it. I was going to jail.
Ethan, sitting cool as a cucumber in the passenger seat, didn’t say a word. Not a sound. He just… smiled.
That stupid smile.
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