Page 59 of Love On Time

Camille

Today is my first day back at the library. As much as I love my job, the first day back from a vacation is always the hardest. I am officially out of my fairytale bubble and slammed right back into reality. It’s been two days since I got home, and I’ve spent every spare second trying to stay busy. Unpacking from the wedding, restocking the empty fridge, and forcing myself to readjust to the rhythm of my ordinary life. But the distractions only work for so long. Pulling out my bridesmaid dress yesterday morning nearly broke me. I ended up sitting on my bedroom floor, burying my face in the smooth silk and crying into the fabric, thinking of the new memories it now holds.

The distance between Drew and me already feels staggering. He managed to call once over the last two days, but the line was filled with static before the call failed. Another harsh reminder that he is deep in the Costa Rican jungle, thousands of miles away. Since then, our only communication has been reduced to a handful of brief text messages.

Alex called yesterday to check in on me. By the time we hung up, I’d made plans to meet him and his boyfriend, Marcus, for dinner later this week. Having something on the calendar feels like a good distraction to keep me busy and stop me from staring at my phone over the next few weeks.

I’m sitting at my desk, scrolling through my missed emails when my phone buzzes against the wood. I look down to see a notification from Ivy. She sent a photo from their honeymoon in Italy. The sun-drenched street in the background looks straight out of a postcard. In the center of the frame is a rustic bottle of red wine she found at a local market—with the name ‘The Camille’ printed right on the vintage label.

'Found your next bottle of wine! Bringing it home for us to open together,' her text reads. A smile finally tugs at my lips, smoothing out some of the tension in my chest.

“You're back!” Maggie, our front desk clerk, says cheerily, leaning her elbows on my desk. She’s fresh out of high school, and when I hired her, we hit it off immediately. She reminds me a lot of my younger self. “How was your trip?”

I look up from my phone, placing the screen face down on the wood before she spots the photo of Ivy’s wine bottle. “It was really fun. The wedding was absolutely beautiful,” I say, offering her a bright smile.

“Ugh, I’m so jealous. You look so glowy and tan,” she sighs, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face. Suddenly, her expression shifts, her eyes widening in realization. “Oh, my God. You met someone, didn't you?”

My heart does a little flip, and I try to play it cool. “No one new. I just... spent some time with my brother's best friend.” The second the words leave my mouth, I realize how ridiculous they sound. Drew isn't just my brother's best friend anymore.

“Shut up!” Maggie squeals, totally unbothered by the fact that we are standing in a quiet library. “Give me all the juicy details right now!”

I let out a real laugh, looking around to make sure she didn't just disturb any of our guests. “To be fair, we have history. We actually dated back in high school.”

“High school sweethearts? Are you kidding me?” Maggie gasps, leaning in closer. “Do you have a picture? Please tell me you have a picture from the wedding.”

I smile and scroll past Ivy's text to a photo Cooper had snapped of Drew and me on the dance floor late Saturday night. Drew’s jacket was off, his sleeves rolled up, and he was looking down at me with an expression so raw it still makes my chest ache.

Maggie snatches the phone out of my hand, her jaw literally dropping. “Um, Cami? Your brother’s best friend is a literal model?! Look at the way he’s looking at you! If a man looked at me like that, I would marry him tomorrow.”

My laugh fades into something softer. “Yeah. He’s pretty great.”

“So...what’s the catch?” Maggie asks, her eyes catching the slight drop in my mood. “Because you have that look like there’s a 'but' coming.”

“Now that, Maggie, is a very long story.” I chuckle. Before she can press me for more details, an electronic beep rings out from the security gate as another guest walks in, and Maggie reluctantly snaps back into work mode. “To be continued,” she whispers before heading back to the front counter.

The rest of my shift passes in a blur of shelving books and cataloging new arrivals, my eyes constantly catching sight of the travel magazine that sits across from my desk, with Drew’s name written across it.

I walk into our crowded, local Mexican restaurant. I am more than ready to drown my sorrows in a margarita and an endless basket of chips and salsa. But right as I cross the threshold, my phone pings in my palm.

Drew

Missing you. I’m so sorry we haven't been able to talk on the phone.

A second later, an image loads beneath the text. It’s a photo of him sitting on a tin roof, surrounded by the dark silhouette of the jungle, looking up at a sky full of bright stars. He looks handsome, rugged, and entirely too far away. I miss him so much it hurts.

It has been almost a week since we said our goodbyes in the airport terminal—the same amount of time we had together at the wedding to fall back into our old ways. A part of me can't help but feel like this is the moment where the distance begins to erode what we built, slowly pulling us away until we're strangers again.

Swallowing hard, I shove the phone into my back pocket, deliberately pushing down the knot forming in my throat when I catch sight of a familiar hand waving at me from a booth across the room.

The rest of the night flows easily, filled with the kind of natural conversation and effortless laughter that you only find with old friends. Alex and Marcus have the best chemistry, naturally bouncing jokes off each other.

As we work our way through a pitcher of margaritas and an unlimited supply of chips, salsa, and guacamole, I finally get the full story of how they met. Turns out, their romance started at our old high school, where they both work now. Alex is a guidance counselor—which explains why he’s so good at reading my mind, while Marcus is the choir teacher. Watching them trade playful, longing glances over the table makes my chest swell; it’s a beautiful reminder that real love can thrive in the mundane reality of everyday life.

“So, how are you really doing, Cami?” Alex asks, his playful energy shifting as his voice softens with concern.

The wall I’ve been putting up all night finally cracks. I let out a long, heavy exhale and look down, rubbing my thumbs over the cold condensation of my margarita glass.

“I’m really trying, but if I’m being honest... I’m struggling,” I admit, the words feeling heavy as they leave my mouth. “He doesn’t have the best service out in the jungle, so we haven’t been able to talk much. It’s just been a handful of texts. And I'm terrified that as time goes on, the distance is going to make him realize that maybe... maybe this isn't what he wants after all.”