Chapter 4 Something's Wrong

Sunlight timidly filtered through the curtains. It was one of those Sundays where the world seems to go in slow motion, and even the birdsong sounds like an old song. Nico woke up with his body numb, but relaxed. Last night's shift had left him exhausted. The first thing he noticed was that he was alone in bed.

He sat up, scratching his head. Beside him, the spot where Camila should have been was still warm. How long had he gotten up? He stretched his neck, listened to the faint creaking of his bones, and got up lazily. He walked barefoot to the kitchen.

Camila was there, facing away, holding a mug, staring into space. She was wearing one of his shirts, barely buttoned. Normally, the scene would have made him smile. But something stopped him.

"Cami?"

She gave a slight start, as if he'd surprised her.

"Oh, hi," he said without turning around. I made you coffee.

"Thanks," he replied, taking the cup that was already poured on the counter. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, a little too quickly.

"Yeah, just... I woke up early. I couldn't sleep."

He leaned against the kitchen island, watching her intently. Something wasn't right. There was a kind of new distance in the way he moved. He couldn't put it into words, but he felt it. Like when a friend tells you they're okay, but their smile doesn't reach their eyes.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he tried.

She looked at him, and for a second she seemed to want to say something. But she swallowed the words.

"Nothing important."

He walked over and hugged her waist, seeking her closeness. Camila didn't move away, but her body remained tense, as if her mind was elsewhere.

"You don't know how much Julian helped me last night," Nico said, resting his head on her shoulder. "That guy has a lot of energy, doesn't he?" He felt her stiffen for a split second.

"Yeah... sure," she replied, very quietly.

Nico pulled back a little and looked at her. She was paler than usual. And her eyes, though they were looking at him, didn't seem truly present.

"Cami, what's wrong?"

She forced a smile, but it was like watching someone wearing a mask that doesn't fit.

"Nothing. I'm just a little weird today. You fell asleep so quickly last night, I was tossing and turning. Thinking. You know me."

He nodded slowly, still watching her.

He knew her. Or at least he thought he knew her.

Camila had always been intense, emotional, transparent. When something happened to her, she said it. But this was different. It wasn't anger, or sadness. It was something else.

"Are you hiding something from me?"

The question came out naturally. He hadn't planned it, but as he said it, he realized he truly believed it.

She blinked several times. Her hand gripped the cup tighter than necessary. Then she lowered her gaze.

"No, Nico," she said, with a gentleness that hurt more than any scream. "I'm not hiding anything from you."

But her voice... it wasn't firm.

He felt a pang of discomfort, as if someone had just dragged a fingernail across the glass of his tranquility.

"Well," he said with a smile that tried to be relaxed. "If you want to talk about anything, you know I'm here."

She nodded. She looked back at him. And for a second, something flickered in her expression. Guilt. Nico felt it like a punch. But before he could say anything else, Camila brushed his lips with a quick kiss and walked away toward the bathroom.

He was left alone in the kitchen, holding the lukewarm cup.

Something happened. Something happened, and she's not telling me.

He glanced toward the hallway where she'd left. The sound of her footsteps had faded. And something ignited in his heart. An instinct.

Until that moment, Nico had never doubted her. Never. But now...

Now, he was starting to. He was starting to regret having suggested to Julián that they share an apartment.