“Home,” I sigh contently, closing my eyes and smiling to myself.

After Dean left Maplewood, the days flew by and in the blink of an eye, it was my time to go home. Leaving Maplewood was sad, but I was more than ready to get back into the swing of things back home. Before I left, I made sure to give Kay a heads up that I’d be bringing a furry friend home and that I’d need supplies. After a good 20 minutes of listening to Kay squealing on the phone, I was finally able to give her the list of things Pickle needed.

God, I love her!

Kristen gave me the perfect parting gift – a small bottle of lavender oil to roll onto my wrists or smell whenever I felt anxious or couldn’t sleep. She had made it from the lavender in her garden at home and it smelt absolutely divine. I never saw the use of lavender until I came to Maplewood. It did wonders for my anxiety and sleep.

Placing Pickle’s carry case down in the hall, I lean down and open the door. Without a moment’s thought, she is out and sniffing around.

“Welcome to your new home, Pickle,” I say excitedly, watching as she disappears into my room.

I dump the rest of my stuff in the hall. I decided to deal with it all later. It’s been a long trip and I’m hungry and tired.

“Hungry, Pick?” I call to her as I walk past my bedroom.

Pick’s already up on my bed, cleaning her arse. She looks up at me for a brief moment and then goes right back to it.

“I’ll take that as a no,” I chuckle as I head into the kitchen.

Kay and Laila were wonderful enough to stock my fridge for when I got home, keep my apartment clean, and paid my rent while I was gone. Literal angels on this earth and I’d be lost without them.

Once I’ve sufficiently stuffed my face, I flop down next to Pickle on my bed.

“Nap time?” I reach over and stroke her.

Pickle lets out a yawn and moves up towards my pillows

“We don’t have to be at the café for another three hours,” I rub my eyes. “So, we have time for a quick nap.” I yawn, scootching up next to her and settling down.

Kay texted me the night before letting me know that the renovations were done, and she desperately wanted me to come into the café and see them. I would have gone when I arrived, but Pickle needed to be settled in and I’m tired. So, we agreed that I would come by after closing.

 

Late afternoon

 

I’m woken by my phone buzzing off the bloody hook next to my bed. I rub my eyes groggily and feel around for my phone. There is message after message from the entire gang.

“Oh crap,” I rub my face with my hand. “I forgot to switch my phone off silent when I got home.”

I quickly unlock it and answer every one, then drag myself into the bathroom to make myself somewhat decent. Low ponytail, peach lip gloss, a spaghetti strap white bodysuit with blue embroidered flowers on it, stonewashed shorts and cute strappy sandals is the look I’m going for this afternoon. I may add my brownish belt for a little something extra.

“How do I look, Pick?” I do a little spin so she can see the entire outfit.

Pickle jumps off my bed, stretches, and slowly wanders over to me. Giving me the once over, she begins rubbing herself against my legs, purring loudly.

“I’ll take that as a, ‘You look fabulous, Cami’.” I smile, leaning down, picking her up and laying her on her back like a baby. “I’ll be back soon my pretty Pickle. No wild parties or boys over while I’m gone, ok?” I warn.

Pickle mutters something under her breath as she wriggles out of my arms, plops to the floor, and struts off into my lounge room like she owns the fucking place.

She does but that’s beside the point, I think to myself as I watch her tail flick from side to side.

“I mean it Pickle, behave!” I yell to her as I head for the door.

Grabbing my coat, I open my door and I came face to face with the one person I didn’t expect to see tonight – Sterling, in the hall, with a box in hand.

“Camilla,” Sterling says quietly, his eyes soft and sad. “I didn’t know you were back.”

“I got back at lunch,” I reply awkwardly.

“Oh, that’s-“ he steadies the box on the railing next to him. “Good.”

“Yeah.”

We stand there in awkward silence, looking at each other like we are complete strangers.

“Is that for work?” I point to the box.

“Oh, ummm,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “No, I moved out of my apartment, and these are the last of my things.”

“You’ve moved out? When?” I look at him shocked.

“About two and a half weeks ago.”

“Sterli-“

He cuts me off. “This is for the best, Camilla. Too much damage has been done between us and I don’t want to cause you anymore pain.”

“Sterling, what happened, between us, wasn’t all you. I know that now. I wanted to blame you, hate you even, but it takes two and I-” I take a breath. “I’m sorry that I put this all on you, I’m sorry that I let our friendship get to this because I miss you Sterling, and I don’t want you to go but I know that this is the best for the both of us.”

“I’m- I’m sorry, Camilla. The way I acted was childish, pathetic, and not who I want to be. I miss us as well and I will always cherish our friendship.” He looks down at the box and then back at me. “You’re truly incredible, Cami and it’s been such a joy to be your friend. I hope that you find your happy ending because you deserve it.” He picks the box up, steps towards me and points to my cheek, “May I?”

“Mm hmm.”

Sterling presses his lips to my cheek and for a brief moment I close my eyes, memories flooding my mind of all the fun times we spent together. The old Cami would have slapped him across the face and told him to go to hell but that’s not who I am anymore. He was my friend and we both played an active part in what happened between us. Neither of us is innocent and I forgive him for his part. Hopefully, he’s forgiven me for my part.

“Goodbye, Cami,” he says as he pulls back, smiling down softly at me.

“Goodbye, Sterling,” I reply quietly, watching as he walks past me, down the stairs and out of the building. Out of my life.

Taking a deep breath, I head down the stairs out the apartment doors. I’m shocked to see the road completely empty.

“Jeez, did the world end while I was asleep?” I joke to myself as I walk across the road.

Kay’s entire café is blacked out. Even when she is closing there are always some lights on. It kind of makes me feel a little uneasy but I push those feelings to the side and open the door. The little bell rings above my head and butterflies fill my stomach at its jingle. Memoires instantly fill my mind. Of Jonathan, and the anxiety that swirled around in my stomach as I approached the counter. The look on his face when he first saw me, the smell of his cologne and the feeling of his touch when he caught me.

“Jonathan,” I quietly say to myself, smiling.

Memories of him don’t sadden me anymore, I remember them fondly and I can enjoy the moments we shared for what they were, moments. I’m pulled from my memory abruptly by the sound of something heavy falling from the roof above me. I instantly squeeze my eyes shut waiting for the impact, but nothing comes, just a swift breeze that brushes my face followed by the entire room lighting up and an eruption of voices yelling, “WELCOME HOME CAMILLA!”

“Oh my gosh,” I breathe out, opening my eyes.

Hanging from the roof in front of me is a huge pink and white banner with the words, ‘Welcome home Cami!’ It’s so perfect and I simply must take it home with me.

That would be a sight, my inner voice giggles.

My eyes move from the banner to all the people filling Kay’s café. Everyone I hold dear to me is here, Laila, Dean, Kay, Micah, Anthony, Renee, Annie, Angel, Tyler, and Stef. I’m so overwhelmed by emotions that I begin sobbing uncontrollably. Everyone rushes over to me, and I’m pulled into a group hug.

I’ve never had so many people in my life actually care enough about me to put something like this together for me. My parents couldn’t be bothered with my birthdays and never did anything for me without expecting something in return. Yet, here I am, the girl from a small town in Australia, who moved around so much that she never had time to make friends and grew up in a home full of abuse and violence, is now, surrounded by people that aren’t my family, that don’t owe me anything, showing me more love, support, and kindness than my own family.

“I-,” I brush tears from my cheeks. “I don’t know what to say,” I sniffle.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Laila says.

“We are so happy you are home, Cami.” Angel chimes in from behind Kay.

“You were missed,” Stef smiles at me.

“A lot,” everyone says one by one.

“Thank you,” I wipe my eyes. “All of you, for always being here, for always supporting me and loving me. Even at my worst. I don’t know what I would do without you all.” We all step back.

“Never say thank you,” Renee scolds.

We all giggle at her comment. Ain’t no-one going to challenge a six-month pregnant Renee.

The rest of the night was spent catching up with everyone, telling them about my sassy little Pickle, sharing the many Dean jokes I have received during my time at Maplewood, filling them in on my plans now that I’m home and how I was feeling in general about being home after being away for such a long time. I also got a chance to see all the changes both Kay and Stef have made to Get Roasted. It’s absolutely stunning and screamed Kay – her style, and her sassy attitude. The menu, which I got to enjoy, was without a doubt, phenomenal. I’ve never tasted anything so darn delicious.

The weight gain, I think to myself.

After a couple of hours of socialising, I was happy when it began to wind down. Even though I’d had a nap, I was still feeling the effects of the long ride home. After saying my goodbyes to everyone, Dean insisted on walking me home.

“Are you coming in?” I ask, turning to Dean who is walking up the stairs behind me.

“No, darlin,” he smiles up at me. “But I will be around in the morning because I have some news I wanna share with you. Well, two pieces of news actually.” He stops next to me.

“Wait, you have news and you’re keeping it from me ‘til tomorrow?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Rude, Dean, really rude.” I cock my brow at him.

“I’m sorry, darlin.” He pulls me into a hug. “But it will be worth it. I promise.” He pulls away and winks at me.

“Pfft,” I roll my eyes at him. “So you say, but I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I know you will,” Dean smirks. “But for now, go in, feed the devil cat and get some rest. Okay, darlin?” He reaches out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I smirk at him.

“I’ll take what I can get,” he winks at me.

“Goodnight, butt face,” I throw over my shoulder, pushing my apartment doors open.

“Goodnight, darlin,” He chuckles.

The moment I open my door, I come face to face with a night sassy floof, eyeing me off like I just shit in her cereal. Pickle stalks over to me, her gaze never leaving mine as she sniffs my feet and legs.

“I wasn’t with any other cats, if that’s what you’re thinking, Pick,” I reach down and stroke her back.

Pickle’s head snaps to my hand stroking her back. I stop and put my hand in front of her nose as she taps it with her nose, sniffing again for any sign of another cat or dog.

“Happy?” My tone dripping with sarcasm.

Pickle looks up at me and immediately begins her rubbing routine against my legs while purring loudly.

“Awwww, why are you so cute?” I gush at her as I hang my coat and drop my keys and phone.

After a few moments of Pickle putting her scent back on me, I head down to my room and get ready to settle in for the night. Pulling my hair tie out and giving my hair a tussle, I grab my favourite Christmas pyjama top. I’m aware it’s not Christmas yet but this damn top is SO comfy and warm.

“Right, that’s on, where are my wool socks?”

I rummage through my draws and find them right at the bottom.

“There you are,” I say as I snatch them out.

Pulling my thigh-high wool socks on I hear my phone vibrating in the hall. I make quick work of the last sock and dash down the hall, rummaging through all the shit on the table next to the door

“I’ve gotta clean this shit up,” I scold myself, finally finding my phone.

It’s a facetime from Emir and Saph.

“Emir, Saph!!” I answer excitedly.

“Hey, Cami,” Emir and Saph beam through the phone. “Welcome home!”

“Thank you,” I reply as walk to the kitchen and set the phone up on the counter so I can make Pickle’s dinner.

“We’re sorry we couldn’t be there for your welcome home party. Shit has gotten crazy at both of our jobs,” Saph says.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just so happy to see and talk to you.” I smile at them. “How does it feel to be home?” Emir asks.

“Good, really really good.” As I reply, Pickle jumps up on the kitchen counter and blocks the camera on my phone. “Hang on a second, let me get Pickle out of your faces,”

“Come on devil cat, on the floor,” I say as I pick her up and plop her on the floor next to me.

“Sorry about that guys. She wants all my attention all the time.” I roll my eyes.

“Is that the famous Pickle?” Saph asks.

“Yes, and she has that celerity mentality too,” I giggle.

“We can tell,” Emir replies, chuckling. 

“I love her, and I think she loves me,” I joke, looking down at her as she rubs herself against my legs and then back at Emir and Saph.

“Listen, I nee-“

Emir’s words are cut off by a knock at my door.

“Sorry, someone is at my door. Can I call you back in a few?” I ask them.

“Ummm,” Emir looks to Saph who gives him a subtle nod. “Sure, yeah.” 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I promise I’ll call you right back,” I reassure them.

“Don’t worry about it and hey, we can talk more tomorrow, ok?” 

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” Emir and Saph smile at me.

“Ok, love you. Talk tomorrow!”

“Love you too, bye,” they both reply.

I hang up the phone, quickly put Pickle’s food on the floor and dart to my door. I don’t even look through the peephole. I assumed it was either Dean or Kay. Never in my wildest dreams did I think it would be him – Jonathan.

Swinging the door open, ready to give them a sassy comment about being obsessed with me I’m immediately stopped in my tracks when his cologne fills my nose. Jonathan turns slowly, his gaze catching mine.

My breath hitches in my throat and almost as fast as I opened the door, I slam it in his face. Panic fills my entire body, all of a sudden I’m freezing cold, and I feel like I want to puke. I can feel my breathing becoming erratic and my heart racing. My eyes begin darting around the room looking for my purse and the lavender oil Kristen gave me. Like a crack head looking for their next fix, my shaky hands begin throwing shit everywhere, tearing my coat hanger and the table to pieces trying to find it.

After a few seconds, I find it at the bottom of my purse. Grabbing it, I shakily open the lid and slowly breathe it in. The lavender rolls over me, instantly soothing my mind, slowing my racing heart and calming my body. I take a few deep breaths, put the lavender on the table and open the door again.

Jonathan is standing there in a grey singlet; dark blue long sleeve button up shirt that he’s rolled up past his elbows and left undone, matching dark blue jeans, a beaded and sliver Turkish coin necklace falling effortless around his neck, a black leather bracelet and his signature suede boots. His hair is tied back in a bun with just a small wave of hair at the front. I always loved this hairstyle on him.

“What can I do for you, detective?” I ask in my best, ‘I’m totally fine with you standing here,’ voice.

“Camil-“

I cut him off. “Is there a problem, detective?” My tone is cold and flat.

His face falls, the softness it had is gone and is replaced with sadness and confusion.

I watch as he rubs the back of his neck nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. My entire body is telling me to jump into his arms and tell him how much I’ve missed him. How much I’ve missed his voice, his smell, his everything but I won’t do it.

He left me; I remind myself.

“Can we,” he steps forward. “Talk?” Jonathan hesitantly asks.

“Unless you are here on official business, detective, we have nothing to talk about,” I step back.

“Camilla, please,” Jonathan begs.

“What do you want, Jonathan?” I ask, frustrated.

“I,” his gaze drops to the floor. “I want you, and I know I fucked up, but I need a chance to explain, to make it right,” Jonathan looks up at me.

“You want me? You don’t even know who I am, Jonathan.”

“I-“ he sighs in frustration, running his hand through his hair.

“Did you think that by turning up here on the first night I’m home from Maplewood that I would welcome you in, that I’d jump into your arms, and it would all be ok?” My words dripped with sarcasm.

“No, of course not.”

“Go home, Jonathan, I’m tired and I’m not in the mood for this shit right now.” I roll my eyes at him.

“You’re my home! Do you know understand that?” He shouts, frustration etched on his face. “I may not remember everything about you but my heart aches when I’m apart from you. It’s killing me, Camilla! I can’t live another day without you,” Jonathan exclaims, exacerbated.

“You did this to us, Jonathan,” I replied icily. “I was there every day, fighting for us. What were you doing, huh? Oh, that’s right, cuddling up to Sienna.”

“I woke up and recognised NO-ONE! Do you know what that’s like?”

“No, I don’t, and this isn’t about your accident. This is about you choosing to run. You ran from me, your friends and even your own brother. Your own brother, Jonathan.”

“I was terrified. My entire world was destroyed in one night. I-” He sighs. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You talk to me!” I shout. “You talk to me and let me help you, let us help you. You don’t run and you especially don’t run to your toxic ex.”

“What?” He looks at me with shock. “Sienna? What are you talking about?”

“Stop, Jonathan, just stop, ok? I know, it was all over the news.” I roll my eyes.

“Camill-“

I cut him off.  “No, don’t. Really. It is what it is. I told you that day in the hospital that if you got on that plane that was the end of us and it is.”

“Camilla, I didn’t go back to Turkey with Sienna. I promise, and the child she is carrying is not mine,” his eyes plead with me.

For a moment a rush of relief washes over me. He didn’t go back with her, and the baby isn’t his. I catch myself quickly and remind myself that it makes no difference. He left, I asked him not to and he did.

“I don’t care, Jonathan. Go home, there isn’t anything left to say.”

“Camilla, please,” he reaches for me, but I put my hand up signalling him not to come any closer.

Jonathan stops in his tracks. “I came back for you.”

“You came back too late,” I snap at him.

“I know,” he sighs. “And I will regret that decision for the rest of my life but please, I’m begging you, please, let me make this right, let me fix this, us,” Jonathan pleads.

“There is no us and there hasn’t been for four months.”

“I’m here now, I’m not leaving you again. I’m all in, Camilla. Whatever it takes, whatever you need, I’m here,” he states. “Just tell me what you need from me?”

“I need you to leave and never come back,” I reply coldly.

“I can’t do that, Camilla. I won’t do that,” he says in a matter-of-fact way. “I made that mistake once, please don’t ask me to do it again.”

“Then we are done here.”

“Camilla, please, don’t do this, don’t walk away from me. I need you,” Jonathan begs.

“I’m walking away from you like you walked away from me,” I spit at him as I slam the door.

“CAMILLA!” He yells, banging on the door.

The fake façade falls the moment that door closes. Four months of pain and heartache hits me like a freight train, forcing my body to fall against my door. The tears fall uncontrollably, and I try my best to control my breathing, but it doesn’t work. My loud sobbing echoes through the door and bounces off the walls around me. Jonathan can hear me, and I hear him exhale a big breath as he rests his head against my door.

“Camilla,” Jonathan says quietly, choking back tears, “I’m here and I’m not giving up on us. Do you hear me?”

Art by @adamszkiart_illustrations