Chapter 18 : We Could've Been Great

"Veronica…"

I was deflecting, I knew that. I didn't want to deal with anything that I was going through right now. Ethridge and his threats, the potential end of the world, how close I'd come to death, or—

Or, the bits of colored scrap that would come swirling up through my subconscious in the form of fucked up dreams about what may or may not have happened that fateful day when my parents died.

It was all just too much, and could anyone really fault me for wanting to swap all this angst for a moment of feeling good. For feeling held? For security, and maybe even a facsimile of love?

I just wanted my life to go back to the way it used to be before things got all messy. Before life got all complicated. Before I had to worry about figuring out all the hard parts.

When I'd wake up in a warm bed smelling like that detergent they discontinued last year, the one that smelled like chrysanthemums on a spring morning.

Ignoring the buzz of my alarm for a few more lazy moments