Page 122 of Reverie

Veronica’s mother and father are currently sailing around the island of Crete. Along with Rio and Jared, Veronica and the baby plan on meeting her family in Mykonos. From there, Veronica and her family will leave to hide away in the South of France.

Rio will stay with Veronica, and Jared will return to the compound.

I should feel a little comforted that Rio will look after her. I like him, and I know he’ll keep her and Summer safe.

But I can’t help but cry into my satin pillowcase because she’s gone, and I don’t know for how long or if I’ll ever see her again.

Pulling on the tools that Genevieve and I developed over the last several years, I roll out of the bed and amble toward the courtyard with Kitty trailing behind me. My hair is a mess, jumbled at the top of my head in a tangled ball that I’m sure will take me at least an hour to unknot.

I try not to think of my mother’s horror at me walking outdoors in my house slippers and pajamas.

I sniff as my mother’s face flashes before me.

She prepared me for so much, but she didn’t prepare me for love.

Is this what love is supposed to be like?

I take in a deep, deep breath when I settle on the bench with Kitty in my lap and roses surrounding me. Closing my eyes, I go through one of the routines Genevieve taught me back when I was in the hospital all those years ago.

Three things I can smell.

Roses. Freshly cut grass. Sap from the trees.

Three things I can feel.

The breeze as it rushes past my face. The stone bench beneath my bottom. Kitty’s fur beneath my palm.

Three things I can hear.

The birds chirping. The rustle of the leaves in the wind. Footsteps.

I crack my eyes open, orienting myself in the direction of the noise.

Amelia Brigham stands at the entrance with one hand on the doorframe as she looks at me with a questioning gaze.

“You’re more than welcome to join me,” I say to her, trying to fix my face into something like a smile. “I don’t own the place.”

In fact, I don’t own anything at all anymore. Everything I have, except for Kitty and this journal, has come from Hunter.

That thought is...unsettling.

Amelia smiles and walks over to me. In the morning light, I can tell that she’s moving a bit more stiffly than she usually does. She generally walks with a slight limp, but she’s moving now as if injured.

“Are you okay?” I ask once she’s close enough to sit next to me.

“Yeah,” she says with a small grunt as she lowers herself to the bench. “Just troublesome joints.”

I hum in reply and turn to watch the birds flit from branch to branch. A butterfly floats around a fragrant violet butterfly bush, and I’m reminded of the trip Veronica and I took to Dichotomy a lifetime ago.

Itfeels likea lifetime ago.

And since then, she’s had her baby, we’ve discovered that the owner of the shop was not who he said he was, and Veronica is gone.

I bite my lip so I don’t cry.

“I’d hoped he’d love someone as much as he loves you,” Amelia says, and it’s the wrong thing to say because the tears I’m trying to hold back fall.

“I love him so much that I don’t know what to do about it,” I say, just letting the tears roll down my face.