𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙃𝙇𝙔 𝘾𝙇𝙐𝘽 𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙐𝙋 was something camille had been attending since she was twenty-one, back when her and manny had just started getting serious after she came home from college. over the years it had turned into a tradition, a small group of members and their families first getting together for supper at the club president’s house, then later in the night, when the kids were put to bed and most of the old ladies went home, the party would start at the clubhouse. the first time she went, cami remembered feeling like she stuck out like a sore thumb in her floral summer dress around all that leather, but everyone had welcomed her warmly considering she was on a member’s arm. she hadn’t left his side all night, wide eyed as she took in the scene around her- the nearly naked girls, the makeshift stage where members from different charters would bet on others while they fought and the amount of drugs and alcohol that was passed around so casually. she was a lot more innocent back then.
now, over ten years later, camille fit right in. she’s sitting at the club house’s bar with one of her friends, wearing some low rise jeans and a plain, black laced tank top. her favorite leather jacket was draped over her chair and she sipped her beer with an amused smile on her face as the girl tells her a story. after manny was tragically killed almost five years ago, she hadn’t attended the gathering for two years. it’s only when the grief got a little less heavy and santi got her to smile again did she finally show up. the men from out of town, the ones that didn’t know who she was, would always approach her but santiago seemed to appear right behind her when they did. at first, she didn’t mind. men, love - it wasn’t something she was interested in anymore. at least, that was what she told herself for a long time.
it’s only during new year's eve that she realized she was lonely. she missed having a partner. she missed sex and being close to someone both body and soul. it’s why she’s been slowly getting back into the dating game, her heart still guarded but open to what was out there. when she mentioned it to santi, who was now one of her best friends, a look she hadn’t seen before had crossed over his face. was it because of who she was to manny? or maybe he also felt that weird, twisting feeling in his stomach like she did lately whenever she heard about or saw him with another woman? she was too scared to ask, not yet ready to face what had been slowly growing between them over the last few months. instead, she told him she would be careful and keep him updated if ever she made plans for a date. and she did. she just wished she didn’t feel guilty when it happened.
camille notices her friend pause midway through what she was saying, her eyes drifting over her shoulder for a second too long, which causes her to turn on her stool in confusion. her brown hues scan the entrance, looking for the source that caught her attention and there he was. santiago, looking handsome as always in his cut, but he wasn’t alone. a girl, one who usually hung around the brothers, is clinging to his arm, her platinum blonde hair barely covered the low cleavage of her dress. the sight brought a sharp, annoying pang to her chest, but she swallowed it down before it could reach her expression. it was a club party and santi was a grown man who didn't owe her an explanation for his company. she took another slow sip of her beer, focusing on the bottle rather than the pair making their way into the room. beside her, she could feel her friend’s gaze on her face and when she finally looked up, she found exactly what she expected - a raised eyebrow and a look that said more than words could. she wishes she hadn’t confessed to her about the conflicting feelings she's been having the last time they got drunk together. camille just shook her head, giving her a small, dismissive wave of her hand as a tight smile graced her lips. ❝stop. it’s fine. go back to your story, what happened after?❞
