Camila POV
I'd been so excited all day.
Despite the pressure of exams, despite the endless pages of notes and the knots in my stomach, I had smiled. All because he was going to meet me. Anthony. My Anthony.
I had worn my favorite soft blue hoodie—the one he once said made my eyes look like a calm ocean. I'd even let my curls fall naturally, brushing them out carefully. I had dabbed on a bit of the vanilla lip gloss he liked, the one he always said smelled like cupcakes.
The Mahoe tree stood tall in the meadow, a quiet giant. Its swing rocked in the breeze, creaking gently. I got there early. 5:40 PM. Just in case.
Every minute after that felt like an hour.
I kept checking my phone. Then the sky.
Then the path.
Then my phone again.
At every gust of wind or crunch of leaves, I turned around—hope flaring, only to vanish again.
6:00 came.
Then 6:10.
Then 6:25.
The first drop of rain landed on my cheek, warm and cruel.
It was just one drop at first. Then another. Then a soft drizzle. The kind that kissed your skin and made the world feel slow.
But it didn't slow the ache inside me.
I stood beneath the tree for a while, then sat down, curling my knees into my chest. My curls began to stick to my face. My hoodie clung to my skin.
And when the clock hit 6:40, I knew he wasn't coming.
My eyes burned. I tried to blink the tears away, but they just mixed with the rain. I wasn't sure which drops were mine and which were the sky's anymore.
I hadn't realized just how much I'd missed him. Until now. Until he didn't show.
It wasn't just about a meeting. It was about what it meant. That I wasn't a priority. That even after all the promises and sweet words, I could still be left waiting.
I should've left. Should've gotten up and gone home.
But I didn't.
I stayed.
Because some part of me kept hoping.
And then—footsteps.
Fast. Frantic. Slapping against the wet grass.
I didn't look up right away.
Not until I heard him whisper my name.
"Camila…"
I turned slowly.
There he was.
Soaked head to toe. Hair dripping, jacket clutched in one hand, and in the other—my Lilo and Stitch hair tie. The one I thought I'd lost weeks ago. He pulled my hair into a bun
He looked like he'd been struck by guilt and lightning all at once.
My chest tightened.
He was here.
Too late.
Too wet.
And i was too angryto care
I slaped his hand away.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kiss him and punch him and hold him all at the same time.
Instead, I just stared at him—tears still falling.
"You promised," I said, voice barely above the rain.
He stepped forward slowly. "I know. I know, and I'm so sorry. I fell asleep in my books. I've been—"
"Busy?" I cut in bitterly. "Yeah, I figured."
His face fell.
"I kept watching the path," I whispered. "At every sound. Every rustle of leaves, I turned around. I waited, Anthony. I waited."
"I know. I should've texted. I should've—God, Camila, I should've done everything differently." He knelt in front of me, eyes wide with panic and regret. "I never wanted to hurt you."
I stared at him, rain soaking into every part of me—my skin, my hair, my heart.
And still... my fingers reached out.
He caught my hand.
"Let me make it up to you," he said quietly. "Please."
My heart clenched, unsure whether to yield or resist.
Because loving someone shouldn't hurt like this.
But God, did love him