Tough Love I
Camila's POV
Silence.
It's all that fills the car and it gets so unbearable that I can do nothing but pull out my phone and scroll through my notifications, effectively ignoring the man driving.
Because that's how this was. I was ignoring him.
Maybe he was tired of apologizing, or maybe he was fed up with not getting what he wanted, but I didn't care. I wasn't ready to forgive him.
I don't dare give him any attention as I busy myself with my phone. I was going to keep it up until we got home, only that proves to be difficult as I cast a glance up to see him take the wrong turn.
We weren't going home.
I'm tempted to ask him where we're going or tell him to take me home, but that would mean speaking to him and I wasn't going to be doing that anytime soon.
I try to act unbothered, but I'd be lying if I said the curiosity mixed with the way Alejandro doesn't look like he's going to speak anytime soon, isn't making me anxious.
The man merely continues to drive, a hand lazily thrown over the steering wheel, his gold watch blocking my view of the veins that trail his skin as they dip beneath his sleeve, while his other hand lays atop the gear shift, his thumb tapping away.
My gaze pauses on the sight of his thumb tapping on the gear, it doesn't look absentminded or nonchalant. It's as if he's tapping away impatiently. His gaze remains on the road but with each ping of my phone chiming, his jaw ticks.
I bite down on my bottom lip to suppress my smile of satisfaction and when I feel him turn his head, I divert my attention to my phone screen.
My satisfaction is short lived for the next thing I know, we're taking a sharp turn. One that sends my phone flying to the floor before we make a sudden stop, one that sends my phone under the seat.
He shuts off the ignition and nods towards the old worn out structure that just so happens to be my favourite diner - the one I'd taken us to last time. "Out." He says, in that demanding voice of his.
I do no such thing.
I glare at him as he steps out of the car and walks through the empty parking lot and towards my door.
I was not going to listen to the man. And despite this diner being my favourite place at this time because it was always empty and served the best grilled cheese sandwiches, I wanted to be anywhere else, with anyone else.
The passenger side door opens and I sense his overbearing presence it's just as strong as his hard gaze penetrating the side of my head. "Unless you want me throwing you over my shoulder and making a scene." His voice is determined and lacks any sympathy. "I suggest you get out of the car, Camila."
I finally cast a glance up at him, there was no way he'd do that. I was in a skirt, a short one at that. But with the way he stands with his face impassive like he's made up his mind has me slowly making my way out.
But I don't make it easy for him. I take my time to get out, making sure to test his patience and when I finally do stand up, I turn around and bend back into the car, in search of my lost phone, that is until his voice sounds from behind me, impatient and extremely bothered. "Leave it." He grits.
I straighten out, spin around and glance down at his hand that's called into a fist at his side before walking right past him and into the empty diner, not bothering to look if he's behind me.
Other than the old lady working both the register and floor, the place is empty. I send her a warm smile and a wave as Alejandro catches up, stepping into my personal space from behind.
I make a move to step away from him., but he merely places a hand on the small of my back and leads us down the isle, towards the same booth we were sat at the last time.
"Sit." He speaks taking his seat and nodding to the one on the other side as he starts to open up the menu, not even looking up at me.
I stop as my glare intensifies and a nasty rebuke sits on the top of my tongue, but I hold off on speaking to him and simply turn around, making a show of trying to leave.
I only stop when his tense voice sounds again. "Would you please sit down." Despite using all the terms one would in a question, it sounds like a demand coming from a domineering man, one that I'm sure hardly ever uses the word please.
Gritting my teeth, I take a seat as he studies his menu, not even sparring me a glance. I grab my menu and snap it open, scowling at the words before me.
Who did he think he was?
I was mad, why was he acting so hard headed and rude? He should be swimming with guilt no acting so harsh. It makes me so mad that I can't even bother to eat at a time like this, and so with a slightly dramatic flare, I shut my menu, toss it on the table and lean back in my chair with crossed arms.
But the stupid brute doesn't budge. He continues studying his menu as he brings his thumb up to rub against his lower lip in contemplation.
I try not to think about how attractive he looks with his tongue poking out to wet his lower lip in concentration as he studies the menu, and when it doesn't work, I force my eyes away.
I wasn't going to get anything. So instead of reading my menu, I resort to fiddling with mamá's diamond bracelet. I rarely ever left the house without it, only removing it when I showered.
Unlike the diamonds hanging from my ears, this bracelet was irreplaceable. It wasn't just the sight of the materialistic item, it was the way it made me feel. Calm and at ease, how mamá made me feel.
"What can I get for you two today?" The waitress' question snaps me out of my thoughts and I smile at the older lady. She looked tired, and far too old to be working on her feet all day.
I send her a polite smile, and shake my head, "I won't be ordering-"
Only I'm cut off by the man across from me who speaks, his attention still on the menu. "She'll have a grilled cheese and an Oreo milk drink." I turn my head to glare at him, but he merely shuts his menu, grabs mine and hands it to the woman. "I'll have a black coffee and a club sandwich."
He doesn't even bat an eye as she leaves, he simply leans back in his chair, crosses his arms and slides his legs forward, his leg brushing mine in the process. "You're too old to be giving me the silent treatment."
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don't meet his gaze. A small part of me knows he's right. It'd been days of this and I'd been stubborn in holding this grudge but the bigger part of me didn't appreciate him being so... so... demanding and mean.
This attitude of his was not okay.
I also didn't appreciate him disregarding me so easily. I was still hurt, and I'd be lying if I said the brat in me wasn't expecting him to still be apologizing at me feet.
Our plates are placed down on the table before I can reply and I thank the lady only going back to my petty antics when she leaves.
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