Page 61 of Theirs

Cheryland I had a Thanksgiving tradition where we baked all morning, ordered Chinese take-out, or a premade Thanksgiving meal, and watched cheesy Hallmark and Netflix Christmas movies the rest of the day. We wore matching pajamas and at the end of the night we decorated a tree at whoever's house we were at.

We had done this since I was in high school, but we didn’t start baking until she went to culinary school. Growing up with a tight budget, it was easier for us to get takeout than make awhole spread of food. We tried making Thanksgiving dinner, but it was a lot of work when we liked to bake too.

Cheryl and I were almost done watching Holidate. It was the third movie we had watched and next was a Christmas Prince. I was so full, and the day always recharged my soul. Days like this with Cheryl were the best and it made me grateful we had stayed together. I couldn’t live without her.

I laughed at the movie, feeling my phone vibrate.

Camila: Happy Thanksgiving, have plans tomorrow?

I smiled, feeling warm and fuzzy. It seemed the cheesy movies were rubbing off on me.

Me: I could be persuaded to have plans tomorrow.

Camila: My company isn’t enough?

Me: Maybe? I feel like I just saw you.

Camila: Ok, now you're just being RUDE.

Me: You know I want to see you, what did you want to do?

Camila: Stop by my office, I need your measurements, and we can eat lunch here while we look at fabrics.

Me: Done, what time?

Camila: 12pm don’t be late Mistress.

Me: Oh I won’t

Oh, lord. I definitely had been watching way too many cheesy romantic movies.

“Geni, you are fucked, girl. That dopey smile on your face says everything,” Cheryl chuckled.

“Shut up,” I said, throwing a pillow at her.

“Geni and her married couple sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S?—”

I threw another pillow at her, shutting her up. I hadn’t told her we had a falling out, saying it out loud felt like admitting we were done, and after talking to Camila, maybe we weren’t.

Luke: Happy Thanksgiving.

My heart stopped. I read his text five times before allowing myself to hope that this meant something. Please let it mean something.

I looked downat my phone, double checking the address. Once I knew it was the right building, I opened the door, and headed for the elevator. The building was quiet, since it was the day after Thanksgiving, and I wondered why she wasn’t relaxing like most of the city.

The elevator took me up to the thirteenth floor, the doors opened and there stood Camila. She was in a big sweatshirt that was cut so her shoulder was exposed, leggings and fuzzy slippers.

“Hi!” Her face lit up when she saw me.

I was instantly enveloped in Camila’s scent and her warmth. Dammit I really missed her, I missed them.

“Hey,” I said, squeezing her tightly.

Neither of us moved and as much as I wanted to panic, I enjoyed her embrace. I blamed it on not having a lot of affection growing up.

“Come on, I have spiked champurrado,” she said, grabbing my hand, leading me down a hall to a door that said C.M. Designs.

She opened the door to a beautiful front room with her logo. We immediately went down a hall and came into what I think was her workroom. A few dresses were on mannequins, and I was floored. Luke had talked about how talented she was, but to see it in person was amazing.

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