The Consequence of Loving Me: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Aftershock Series Book 1)

by Kat Singleton

  37

  Maverick

  Hours later, the knot in my stomach still hasn’t disappeared. I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind retracing every step that led me here. The sun is now peeking through my window. It reminds me of yesterday morning—when I woke up with Veronica in my arms. I was happy. She was giggling, fucking giggling. Her guard was down and it was beautiful.

  Twenty-four hours later and things have drastically changed.

  I don’t know if I’ll ever wake up with her in my arms again, but I don’t regret telling her how I feel. I do, however, regret the way I foolishly ignored her warnings not to fall for her.

  I wanted to prove her wrong.

  In my heart, I thought we could be different.

  I thought I could teach her how to forgive herself, to put herself out there again—that she was worth it. But all I taught her was that she couldn’t even be just friends with a guy, because our friendship turned into more—a more I couldn’t come back from.

  I could never look at her again as just a friend.

  Once I put the puzzle of her together, I realized I couldn’t settle for pieces anymore. I needed the whole picture or nothing at all.

  She chose nothing.

  A car door slams. It sends my body into action. My feet hit the soft carpet before I can really think about it. I reach the window, my eyes taking in a sight that sends the final blow to my heart.

  Veronica, in front of her car, her back facing my window as she shoves a pink duffle bag into her front seat. She’s got on those boots that caught my attention the day I met her. Who knew those same boots would be the boots she'd run away from me in?

  Because it’s obvious by the bag that now sits in her passenger side that she’s leaving.

  She’s running.

  And even though I could run out and try to change her mind, my feet stay planted. I’m tired—exhausted—of chasing her. There were only so many times she could tell me I was nothing but sex to her before I started to believe her.

  I’m still confident it meant more to her, but I won’t continue to try to make her admit that. If she wants to convince herself we were just two people having fun this whole time, then I’ll let her believe it.

  Veronica climbs into her car and slams her door shut. I watch from the window as she looks up at the spot where I stand. My blinds are drawn—I know she can’t see me—so I allow myself to be fascinated with her one last time.

  She swipes underneath her eyes, making it obvious that she’s crying. It seems like two hours, but it’s probably only two minutes that she stares at the window.

  A piece of my pathetic heart hopes she’s changing her mind about leaving—about us.

  But her car engine starts, proving me wrong yet again.

  Veronica looks up at my window one more time before she starts to reverse down the driveway.

  Her rearview lights disappear in the early morning sun, taking what’s left of my heart along with her.

  38

  Veronica

  “Done.” I click the green button to turn in my last final of the semester before slamming my laptop shut. This earns me a look from my mother from across the long table.

  She’s flipping through a magazine, mumbling judgments of different celebrities as she does so. “You know you’re very fortunate your father could pull enough strings to allow you to finish this semester fully online.” Her tongue sticks out to lick her finger as she continues to rifle through the pages.

  She’s right. After my confrontation with Maverick, I fled. I came back to South Carolina. That week break turned into a month. Once I was home, I couldn’t muster up the courage to return to Kansas. Any time I thought I could face Maverick, I remembered the disappointed look on his face as he watched me from his bedroom window. I could barely see him through his blinds, but I saw enough to know I’d let him down.

  I was always letting people down, and I couldn’t go back there just to do it again.

  It took a lot of begging—and lies—to get my father to contact the dean of my college. They have mutual friends, so the dean agreed to let me finish the rest of my classes online. And for the last month, I’ve been hiding. I never thought I’d run back to the place I had initially run from, but my life is quite ironic. I’d rather face my past here than face my present in Kansas.

  My heart still misses Maverick. When I’m alone at night, I cry. I cry because I destroyed the one good thing in my life because I was too damn scared to have him destroy me instead.

  I haven’t heard from anyone on campus except for Lily and she is freaking persistent. I hadn’t been in South Carolina for a full day before she started blowing up my phone. At first, her voicemails and texts were all angry. She even cussed me out via video using a pretty filter on Snapchat.

  But then she started to give me random updates. Updates on her volleyball team. Updates on her relationship with Aspen—or lack thereof. Updates on her skincare routine.

  Her updates on Maverick were the ones I craved the most.

  Her texts that assured me he was still single. Her texts that told me what he was doing. Her texts that made me feel like shit because she told me he was doing well.

  He’s doing fine, and I’m barely getting by here at home.

  I miss him.

  I miss him so fucking much, and I don’t know what to do about it.

  “Veronica?”

  I look up to find my mom watching me with a curious stare. I have no idea what she was saying before I got lost in my thoughts, so I adjust my position in the uncomfortable chair and wait for her to repeat herself.

  But she doesn’t, so I say, “What, Mom?”

  “I was asking if you’ve decided yet if you’re going back to Kansas or not when the spring semester starts. It’s silly that we’re still paying for that house on campus when you aren’t even there. I think it’s time you decide what you want to do next.” Her hand reaches across the table and rests on top of mine—a comfort.

  I stare down at her nude fingernails. She’s been wearing the same color of nail polish for as long as I can remember.

  Before this recent retreat home, I didn’t let my mom touch me. But over the last month, we’ve formed a better relationship. For some reason, she hasn’t pressured me about why I came back. And I’ve appreciated it. It’s helped us grow closer, together—close enough that I don’t back away from her touch anymore.

  I let out a long sigh, wishing I had an honest answer for her. The more I think about it, the more I want to return to Kansas. To go back to the place that had started to feel like home, a fresh start for me. But another part of me—a large part—worries what I might do if I see Maverick again. And I know I would see him if I go back there. That campus is so small, there’s no way around it.

  “I don’t know, Mom.” My words cut off as I try to come up with the best answer and fall short.

  She purses her pink lips. I can tell she wants to pester me with questions—questions I won’t answer. Her cold hand squeezes mine. “I support whatever decision you make, Veronica. I hope you know that.”

  I’m nodding my head at her when my father walks into our large kitchen and says, “Are my two favorite ladies ready to go?” He’s fiddling with his cuff links as he walks toward us.

  We’re all ready to go to a charity function at their country club. A function that benefits the charity Connor’s parents created in his name, providing free ocean safety classes for the youth in our area.

  I can’t lie and say I’m not nervous to face his parents for the first time. But it’s something I need to do.

  When I came home, I started seeing my therapist again.

  After cussing him out a few times, and sobbing—or both at the same time—he finally got me to realize that, for me to heal and move on from Connor’s death, I had to face Mr. and Mrs. Liams.

  So, here I am, standing in a black evening gown ready to address my past. My palms are sweating, and the slippery fabric of my dress doesn’
t help when I try to wipe them off. I feel like I could throw up at any moment as I climb into the black limo my father rented for the night.

  When I get inside the sleek vehicle, I slide in right next to my mom. There’s enough room with my dad across from us for me to be in my own space. At twenty, I still need my mother’s calm composure in a time like this.

  She doesn’t hesitate to take my hand in hers. Her fingers squeeze mine tightly as the limo pulls away from our driveway.

  “We probably haven’t said this enough to you, Veronica,” my father begins, his thumb flicking over his gold cuff links, “but we are proud of you. So proud.” His blue eyes—the same as mine—stare at me as he enunciates every word he’s saying. “You’ve been through a lot and we wish you would’ve let us shoulder some of the pain you’ve endured, but even all alone, you’ve come out the other side. It takes strength to go through something that’s meant to break you and only come out stronger. We’re proud of you.”

  My mom nods her head next to me. “You’re so strong. Please don’t forget that.” She runs a hand over my styled hair; the hair that two women had come hours ago to do, as well as my mom’s.

  My long, blonde strands fall down my shoulders in loose curls. I have one side tucked behind my ear, showing off a pair of diamond earrings. All I can do is nod my head, pulling my red bottom lip to chew on as I remind myself not to cry. I hate that I was weak and ran home, but I have to admit, it’s been nice spending time with my parents again.

  I’m done playing the part of a spoiled brat. I just want to be Veronica again. A little bit spoiled, a little bit bitchy. But I don’t want to be a brat anymore for the sake of scaring people away.

  My stomach lurches when the limo comes to a stop in front of the club. The ride went by too fast. I start to choke on the air in the limo that smells like perfume and cologne.

  I’m not ready to go in there.

  “You’ve got this, Veronica Rose Cunningham,” my mom says. “I promise you that the Liams are excited to see you. I think this will go so much better than you’re imagining.” My mom stares into my eyes for a moment longer before she takes my dad’s outstretched hand and steps out of the limo.

  I release a long burst of air, my mind giving me an internal pep talk. My lips spread in a plastered fake smile before I extend my high-heeled clad foot from the limo and get out.

  My eyes take in the scene before me.

  Holy fuck. Pray for me.

  39

  Veronica

  I look up at the stairs that lead to the country club I’ve been coming to since I was in diapers. The railings are decorated in garland, reminding me that Christmas is in a week.

  I follow my mom and dad up the stairs without thinking too hard about it. I’m too focused on taking in my surroundings. There’s a huge banner of Connor’s face next to a person with a clipboard at the entrance. My throat starts to close with emotion as I stare at Connor’s smiling face. He’s standing in front of the ocean. The same ocean we’ve all played in our whole lives.

  The same ocean that took him from me.

  My eyes avert from the banner, I can’t look at it for another second without bursting into tears. The man at the door runs his finger down the clipboard in his hand, looking for our names. Once he finds them, he gives us a smile and motions for us to walk in.

  I don’t even know where to look first when we walk through the entrance. The club has been decorated beautifully. It seems like we’re in a winter wonderland. White and blue decorations fill almost every space. White for winter, blue for the ocean and the main color of the charity in Connor’s name.

  It’s so beautiful it makes me gasp. I’m aimlessly following my mom to our table when I spot the Liams from across the room, and my feet stop. I don’t realize a woman’s behind me until her champagne sloshes all over her. The nasty words she mumbles don’t even register in my mind because I’m too busy staring at the parents of the boy I used to love.

  The boy who broke my heart when he died.

  The boy whose heart I broke seconds before he died.

  Even though the ballroom is huge, I feel suffocated. The sound of blood pumping through my body rushes in my ears—reminding me of the waves that stole Connor from me.

  I want to turn around so badly. I want to slip off these heels and run to the limo, to escape from the memories swooshing through my brain, threatening to suck me under with them.

  The woman next to me is still cleaning herself up, whispering things I’m sure she means to insult me with, when Connor’s mom’s eyes find me from across the room.

  I’m pinned to my spot.

  I can’t fucking move.

  Oh my fuck.

  She’s looking at me.

  She’s—why is she smiling at me?

  Before I can panic and sprint out of here like my ass is on fire, she starts to walk toward me. Her navy-blue gown billows around her as she tugs on her husband’s elbow. Connor’s dad says something to the man they were talking to, his eyes traveling in the direction his wife points to.

  My direction.

  His face is unreadable when his eyes land on me.

  I don’t even have the time to think of an excuse to high-tail it out of here before they’re standing right in front of me.

  I watch in horror as Connor’s mom—Maria—reaches her slender arms toward me and pulls me in for a hug without warning. I’m still trying to process what the hell is happening when her arms wrap tightly around my shoulders.

  “I’m so happy to you, sweetie,” Maria says into my hair. Her hand pets the back of my head a few times.

  I can smell her. She smells like vanilla. Connor did, too. Their whole house did.

  It brings back so many memories.

  “I’m happy to see you, too, Maria.” The words are out of my mouth before I can even think about it. I look at Connor’s dad—Kenneth—as I add, “I’m sorry it’s taken so long.”

  Kenneth nods his head at me, putting his hand on the small of Maria’s back.

  Maria pulls away from our hug, her small hands finding both of my cheeks. “It took the amount of time you needed. Don’t apologize for that.” She kisses my cheek before completely pulling away from me.

  The three of us stand there awkwardly. Well, I at least feel awkward. I can’t tell if they do or not.

  Someone steps up to our small group just as I’m about to say something to fill the silence between us. The Liams both nod their heads at something the guest says before looking back at me when the person walks away.

  “The auction is about to start,” Maria says, “but I would love to catch up with you soon, Veronica—if you’d be up to it.” A pause and then, “Would you like to come over for tea soon?”

  I nod, too overcome with emotion to say anything else.

  The million times I’ve envisioned seeing the Liams again, I never once imagined them being so forgiving. So nice. So true to how I remembered them before we lost Connor. I thought Maria would scream at me. I thought I’d see disappointment or resentment written all over Kenneth’s face.

  But here they are, giving me hugs and asking if I’ll come over for tea.

  “I would very much like that,” I finally respond, swiping at a stray tear that’s managed to escape my eye.

  Maria stares at it for a moment, a look of contemplation on her face. “Great,” she says, giving me a small squeeze on the hand before she and Kenneth walk away to entertain the rest of their guests.

  I’m processing everything that just happened as I walk to the table my mother and father are seated at. My mom swipes at her eyes with a napkin. It makes my heart jump inside my chest. I don’t realize until right now why she’s been so insistent that I understand the Liams aren’t full of resentment, the way I imagined them to be in my head.

  “Thank you for doing that, honey,” my mom says, putting down the napkin and straightening her back to appear composed. And then she mouths, “I’m so proud of you.”

  People a
ll around us begin to take their seats. After a few minutes, the lights dim and Connor’s parents take the stage.

  “Thank you all for coming tonight,” Kenneth says as he puts an arm around Maria’s waist. “It means the world to us that so many of you consistently come out to support Connor’s Ocean, the charity we founded in honor of our oldest son.”

  A slideshow begins behind the two of them.

  A photo of Connor and his two brothers appears first.

  Then comes Connor and his whole family.

  Next is Connor—and me.

  My heart breaks all over again as I’m taken back to that very moment with him.

  Pictures from classes the charity has hosted on ocean safety show up after that.

  “We lost our son to the ocean years ago, but we didn’t want that to scare us away from it. From the beauty of the ocean. Many of us have been on the beach for as long as we can remember, and we didn’t want to fear it due to what happened to Connor. Because our son—” Kenneth pauses, swallowing, his voice breaking on Connor’s name. “Our son made a mistake. Our mission is to prevent someone else’s child from making that same mistake. Our efforts have helped put on more than two thousand ocean safety classes since we founded this charity. That’s over thirty thousand people we’ve reached, teaching them about the dangers of the ocean and how to be safe while in or around it.”

  He pauses again, looking over at his wife who’s somehow smiling next to him.

  Pictures are still appearing behind them, but I’m too focused on Kenneth’s words. Too devastated to see more photos of Connor’s beautiful and missed face.

  “Auctions, like the one we’re about to begin, allow us the funds to hold more safety classes. We have a goal to fill more lifeguard positions next year, to add that extra safety precaution on the beaches we love. So, before I talk all your ears off, let’s begin the auction.” Kenneth hands the microphone over to Maria.

  I lean closer in my seat, already hanging on every word she’s yet to say.