Page 73 of The Consequence of Loving Me

People raise their paddles enthusiastically as they auction off each of my paintings. I don’t even realize I’m clutching my mother’s hand like a lifeline as numbers are thrown out that are way larger than I could have ever expected.

Tears fall freely from my eyes as I witness my work raise more than one hundred thousand dollars for Connor’s Ocean.

My paintings.

I was so pissed at Maverick for buying them.

Now, I don’t know how I could ever repay him.

He gave me the greatest gift of all. Maverick had been so adamant that he didn’t want these paintings on some rich person’s wall, but instead of keeping them all for himself, he donated them to charity.

To Connor’s charity.

My hand goes to my mouth when it all clicks together.

This man.

I love him.

Oh my god. I actually love him.

The realization makes me push my chair out from the table.

I need air.

I need it fast.

40

Veronica

“I can’t explain to you how happy I am that you chose to come visit.” Maria holds the front door open to their home, gesturing for me to come inside.

I stand in the middle of their entryway, looking around the house I used to be so familiar with. It’s a lot smaller than the house I grew up in, but that’s why I always loved it. It had charm without being flashy and in your face.

It’s been over a week since the charity function. Over a week of me crying, smiling, laughing, and wishing I could call Maverick to thank him. I have yet to talk to him, though. After talking with my therapist, I agreed with him that I needed to talk with the Liams more before I attempted to move on to anything else.

So, here I am—standing in the Liams’ entryway, petrified of how this might go down.

They were nothing but kind to me at the charity function, but that doesn’t mean my anxiety isn’t at an all-time high. For me to leave this conversation feeling like I can move on, I have to tell them the whole story. From my lips. And they can do with that information as they please.

I would understand if they never wanted to see me again.

But for the first time in forever, I have hope. Hope that they can forgive me for the exact thing I haven’t been able to forgive myself for. For the part I played in their son’s tragic death.

Footsteps echo through the house. They come from upstairs, where Connor’s younger twin brothers must be getting into trouble. Kenneth barks something at the two of them. Giggling is heard soon after.

Maria and I share a smile. She leads me to their kitchen, where teacups and cookies are already placed on the table. “Please sit, Veronica,” Maria says softly, giving me her warm smile as she pulls a tea kettle off the stove.

This would probably be a bad time to confess to her that I hate tea, but I sucked it up for her when I was dating Connor and I will suck it up today as well.

I mutter a thank you as she fills my cup with piping hot tea. Steam wafts out the top in soft spirals. After she pours herself a cup and is putting the kettle back on the stove, I put about five spoonfuls of sugar in my cup behind her back.

We sit in silence for a few agonizing moments. It’s just long enough for my heart to start hammering against my chest.

“Your paintings are so beautiful.”

It’s not what I expect her to say, so I choke on the hot tea that’s halfway down my throat. After coughing for a minute straight, I’m finally able to respond. “Thank you so much, Maria. To be honest, I don’t even know what to say.”

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