Page 77 of The Consequence of Loving Me

I was so proud of her. I was too nervous to ask if she had attended the function or not, but luckily, Maria loves to talk. She told me Veronica was there when they were auctioned off, and that she took it well. That she was thankful and that she seemed happy.

I was happy she was happy, I just wished her happiness included me.

But if she’s happy there, if she’s healing, I’m grateful for that. She deserves to get rid of the guilt. To move on.

I’m very fortunate to have had Lily through all this. My sister sucks at keeping secrets, and since she’s been keeping in touch with Veronica, I’ve been receiving small updates from her on how Veronica is doing.

Just the other night I was hanging out with Selma, Aspen, and Lily, when both Lily and Selma were swearing Veronica would be back. That we would be together once she’s had her time. I felt hope when I heard it from their lips, but I tried not to let that hope take over.

I’ve never met a healed version of Veronica, and once she is healed—if she heals—I’m not confident she’d want to come back to this small college town and give me a real chance.

I hear the sound of the back door opening and closing, but I don’t look that way. I’m too focused on dwelling in my feelings for Veronica.

There’s the sound of boots crunching against snow.

And I look in the direction of the noise—my eyes landing on a pair of boots I could never forget. My gaze travels up her breathtaking body as Veronica comes face-to-face with me.

“You know I don’t like being ignored.” Her blue eyes focus on my face.

We both take the moment to stare at each other. Even though it’s only been a month, I feel like I need to be reacquainted with her entire being.

Those high cheekbones with the tiny freckles that my lips have memorized.

Her lips that are the perfect shade of pink and always look swollen.

Her eyes, that used to scream sadness, but are now more mellow. Calm.

“I’m pissed at you, you know,” I say. The words sound strange coming from my throat. Gravelly, quiet. I’m still trying to process the fact that she’s standing right across from me.

“Yeah, well I seem to do that a lot for people,” she says.

The fog from her breath mixes with the fog of mine. They dance together in perfect harmony. Harmony I wish Veronica and I could have.

“Wrong answer,” I say.

Her body twitches with my words. She shuffles her feet in the snow, as if she’s nervous right now. “What are you talking about?”

“I want you to ask why I’m pissed at you.”

She lets out a long sigh. “Why are you pissed at me, Maverick?”

“I’m pissed at you because I’ve thought about this a lot and I think your whole ice queen thing comes from the fact that you don’t want people to leave you. Even though it wasn’t his fault, Connor left. And since then, you’ve been telling this lie to yourself that if you don’t let people get close enough to you to leave, then all will be well in your world. But you didn’t think about one thing when you devised that stupid plan in your head,” I tell her.

She looks me dead in the eye as she says, “Oh yeah and what’s that?”

“Me.”

“You?”

I take a step closer to her, my hand slowly reaching out to play with a strand of her hair that has fallen out of her ponytail. “Yes, me. Because I am in love with you, consequences be damned. I am in love with you no matter what I face because, Veronica, I am going to stay. I am going to stay and fucking love you through it. It might be ugly at points, but I want to stay through it all because the thought of not having you isn’t an option for me. I’m pissed at you because you up and left before I could prove to you that I would stay with you regardless of what you threw at me. Just when I was given the opportunity to prove to you that I was serious in my pursuit of pursuing you forever, you left. Not even giving me the chance to show you I would fucking stay if you would just let me.”

Veronica leans into my touch, her eyes staring at my lips.

I remember the time I asked her why she was always staring at my lips and she confessed it was because of the scar. A scar Lily gave me when she threw her Barbie’s pink car at my face.

“Is that all?” she asks, leaning away enough from my hand to look me in the eye.

“No, it isn’t. I’m also proud of you. The more time I had to think about it, the more I was happy you ran home. Because for me to love you the way you deserve to be loved, I needed you to pick up your own pieces. To heal some on your own. I’ve learned a lot because of my last relationship and I learned I can’t be the white knight for the girl I love. I don’t want to be that again. I want to be your sidekick, not your hero. I’m proud of you for going home and facing everything that came with that and I hope that maybe one day, when you feel like you can open your heart again without having all the guilt, that maybe I can have a chance.”

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