𝐂𝐡𝐩𝐭 𝟐𝟕

Kamala's POV

I spent the entire night in my room, staring at pictures of Allura on my phone. I bombarded her with texts and calls, but she ignored every single one. She had every right to be angry with me—I had really messed up this time. My week in this city was finally ending, but the thought of facing her filled me with both longing and dread.

I still hadn't spoken to Stanley, and I had no desire to. She never meant anything to me—I only used her to deal with my emotions. But now, none of that mattered. I was going home, and as much as I wanted to see Allura, shame held me back. I had fallen completely in love with her, and losing her wasn't an option. No matter how long it took, I was determined to win her back. She was my other half, and I couldn't imagine life without her sharp wit, radiant smile, stunning beauty, and brilliant mind.

There was no one like her. Why hadn't I just talked to her when I had the chance?

As I stood up from my bed, my phone buzzed—the car was ready to take me back. A new determination settled over me. I was going to get my girl back.

I stepped out of my room with a renewed mindset. If I didn't change my ways, I could lose her forever. Just as I was about to move forward, the sharp click of heels echoed behind me.

"Good morning, Kamala. How'd you sleep?" Amanda's voice carried an underlying meaning.

Though I couldn't see her face, I knew she was smirking. I stopped in my tracks, turning to face her.

"Amanda, nothing will ever happen between us again. I don't want any relationship with you—at work or anywhere else. I used you, and I won't pretend otherwise. My heart belongs to someone else, someone I love more than anything."

Her mouth fell open, and a flush of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. But I felt nothing—no regret, no guilt. It was over. I had already arranged separate cars and different flights. From this moment on, my only focus was Allura.

As soon as my flight landed in California, my car was waiting. I called and texted Allura over and over, but she didn't respond. Ignoring the frustration bubbling inside me, I got in the car and headed straight for her house. She had to be there.

My grip tightened on the steering wheel, my gaze locked on the road ahead. But with every mile, it felt as if the distance stretched farther, mocking me—just like the space I had created between us.

I glanced at my phone, my finger hovering over Maya's contact. Calling her wasn't an option—not when I was barely holding it together. Instead, I sent her a message.

Where is Allura??

She responded almost immediately.

Maya: She's at home. Teary eyed and lying in bed. If you don't fix the mess you've created I WILL step in, Kamala.

I didn't even respond. I couldn't feed into my sister's attempt to piss me off further.

I refused to respond. Engaging with my sister's attempt to irritate me further wasn't worth it.

As I pulled up, I spotted Allura's car in the driveway. Thank God. Without wasting a second, I hopped out and rushed to her door, my heart pounding. My palms were sweaty, and my chest felt tight, but none of that mattered. All I could think about was how much I had hurt her. She didn't deserve that—not after waiting so patiently for me to come back. I knocked a few times. Silence. I knocked again, harder this time.

I heard soft footsteps approaching.

"One second."

Her voice. I had missed it more than anything. It was gentle, but I could hear the weight behind it.

The door opened, and there she stood—messy curls, pink pajamas, and that familiar scent I could never get enough of. Her eyes widened slightly, taking me in as if she couldn't believe I was actually there.

"Hi, baby." I exhaled slowly, choosing my words carefully. "Can I come in?"

She didn't answer, just stepped aside, letting me in. The tension between us was suffocating, and I hated it. I hated when we fought, especially when all I wanted was to hold her, to remind her how much she meant to me. But I had created this distance, and it was tearing me apart.

Her house always felt warm, always smelled like her. We sat on the couch, a small space between us—not too close, but not too far. I didn't want to overstep or push her too hard.

"What are you doing here, Kamala?" Her voice was steady, cold.

I knew her well enough to recognize when she was upset. There was always a slight softness to it, but I also knew she wouldn't forgive me easily. I wasn't expecting her to. I just needed her to hear me out.

"I'm here because I love you and I miss you. I know what I did was wrong. I never had feelings for Stanley—I only used her because I was trying to feel something, and it was stupid. I got lost in my head and let it cloud my judgment. I regret it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I love you—"

"Kamala..."

Something shifted. Her shoulders tensed, and there was sadness flickering in her eyes. The same look she had when she was nervous.

"Yes, baby?"

She hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke.

"I had sex with Maya yesterday."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My chest tightened, heat rising to my face as my nails dug into my palms. I couldn't be mad—not after what I had done—but the anger burned through me anyway. I wanted to yell, to demand why, but I already knew the answer. She had turned to my sister for comfort because I wasn't there.

"Was she better than me?" I asked, clapping my hands onto my lap.

"Is that really what's important right now?" She sighed, rubbing her temples.

I turned fully toward her, my face a mixture of hurt and frustration. "Yes. Be honest with me."

To my surprise, she reached for my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine. The warmth of her touch sent a familiar ache through my body—I had missed this, craved it.

"No, Kamala. She wasn't better than you." Her voice softened, but then her gaze locked onto mine, filled with pain. "But how could you cheat on me? Am I not enough for you?"

Her question hit me harder than anything else.

"That's not true, baby. You are more than enough. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Since you came into my life, I've found joy in the little things—getting dressed in the morning, driving, teaching, even just talking. All of it is because of you, sweet pea. I love you more than anything, and I'll prove it to you."

She nodded slightly, but the sadness in her eyes didn't fade. "I know you love me, Kamala, I do. But I need time. What you did hurt me, and I'm still hurting. I can't just act like it didn't happen. I need to figure things out."

I swallowed hard, my heart aching, but I understood. As much as I wanted her back, I couldn't force her to move on before she was ready. This was my fault.

Her grip on my hand tightened just slightly. "I'm not saying I won't forgive you," she said gently. "But I need space. I need to clear my head, and honestly, so do you."

Some of the tension in my chest eased. She wasn't forgiving me—not yet—but she was listening. That was enough for now.

"I understand. Take all the time you need. But just know that I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait for you for as long as it takes." I turned fully to face her, holding her gaze.

Her eyes shimmered slightly, and for the briefest moment, I caught a small smirk tugging at her lips—so faint, it disappeared as quickly as it came. But I saw it.

I stood up, making my way toward the door. With one last look at her, I spoke.

"I love you, my sweet girl. More than anything."

I stepped out, shutting the door behind me with a quiet click.

This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. If I had to earn her trust all over again, I would.

Next stop: home.

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Now we all know Kamala is not letting that shit with Maya slide. She just acted like she was for Allura.

When Allura confessed Kamala was like:

I didn't hear that 🙂‍↔️

😭😭😭😭