Page 66 of Shattered Queens: Veronica
“He may have someone following you. I’m not sure. I didn’t get a chance to get any answers.” His face is full of concern. “Veronica, I need you to be very careful. This is for your safety. You wanted me to tell you, and I have.”
I wrap my arms around him, careful not to hurt him. “Thank you.”
I can see the inquisitive look. “What for? I just told you the man you stabbed knows where you live, and he sent you a gift.”
“For being honest with me and telling me what’s going on. Instead of keeping things from me.”
After the late breakfast, we get some work done. With the holidays coming up, Miles lets me know he’s going to Colombia to be with his aunt. There’s a disappointment where there shouldn’t be. We aren’t a couple; we aren’t dating.
Veronica
Chapter 31
Christmas came and went.I spent it with my parents; it was odd to say the least. Mostly because Yuri was in attendance, but I’m not sure if she came with Serena or Gabe. What I do know is that my brother couldn’t keep his eyes off her. In the spirit of the holiday and personal growth, I put all my feelings for Yuri aside. If I’m getting anything from my situationship with Miles, it’s that relationships are complicated. They are adults and need to figure out their shit. I will be here for my brother whenever he needs me.
It’s a couple of days before the new year, and I plan on spending it at home. I honestly don’t recognize myself. Miles spent the holiday with his aunt in Colombia and will be traveling for a couple of days, so I invited Bere, Lana, Ruby, and Abel over for Chinese takeout and drinks. I’ve been cutting down on my drinking. It’s counterproductiveif I’m working out. But I still treat myself. I can’t stop drinking altogether. It helps me relax.
I promised Miles I’d stick to Kai driving me and would check in, not that I need to, since he watches my every move. I thought about changing my apartment lock, since he has a key, but there’s no point, and I don’t want to fight him on it. I asked Felix about Eric Harrison, and I know I need to take my safety seriously.
Because Dad’s traveling with Uncle Issac, I offered to stay with Mom. I find her lying down in the living room with popcorn and a glass of wine. I smile because it’s been so long since my mother has felt well enough to drink wine and eat her guilty pleasure, popcorn with chocolate drizzle.
“So, it’s going to be a wild night in?” I tease as I make my way to her.
She turns to me, her green eyes radiant like two emeralds. “The wildest night ever.”
I lie on the couch with my head in her lap while a dating show plays in the background. She asks me about the project and how my volunteering is going. She tells me about Dad’s cooking hobby turned passion. He cooked her meals and left them ready for us for while he’s away and included my favorite desserts. I’m debating whether or not to ask the questions I know she can answer. Or at least provide some insight.
“Mom.”
“Yes.” She hums as she runs her fingers through my hair. “What can you tell me about Cam’s mother, Marisol?” I can feel the moment her fingers stop moving.
“Why do you ask?”
I sit up and face her. “He doesn’t talk about her, but I saw her paintings.”
She doesn’t hide her surprise. “You saw her paintings? He showed them to you.”
I think back to how I discovered them. I don’t want to share those details with her. “Yes. Well…more like I stumbled on them.” I see the internal fight she’s having with herself.
“Have you tried to talk to him about it?”
“Not really, but something tells me that he’ll only share when he wants to.” I think about everything he knows about me. Not as Cam, but as Miles. I know nothing. We never truly talk. But isn’t it better that way? To keep the ocean between us?
“Come, let me show you something.” She stands, and I follow her up the staircase to my bedroom. We face my bed, and above my headboard is a large painting of cattleya orchids in a variety of colors. It’s breathtaking. I’ve lived under it for years without ever trulyseeingit. My mother’s eyes turn glassy. “When the Villanuevas moved to Veridian Bay, Marisol and I became fast friends. But after her father died, she moved back to Colombia with her husband and son. She painted this for me before she left. It was the last time I saw her.” She lets out a faint, brittle laugh. “Do you remember those orchids I couldn't keep alive?”
I nod. “You used to get so frustrated when they’d wilt.”
“Those were a gift from her,” she whispered. “They were her favorite. Eventually, I stopped trying to save them and gave them to you.”
A small smile tugs at my mouth as I remember Mom walking in with that vibrant purple orchid, the same one Gabe had caught me reading to, as if the flower held the secrets of the person who grew it.
“Mom,” I say, twisting a long blonde lock of hair around my finger. “How did she die?”
She looks at me, her expression shuttering. “That, my dear, is not my story to tell.” She turns to lead the way back downstairs, and I follow a few paces behind, watching the sway of her shoulders. I see her stepfalter. Her hand shoots out, white-knuckled, as she grips the banister to steady herself.
I race down the stairs and put my arm around her. “Mom! Mom! Are you okay?”
She’s turned a ghostly shade of pale. “Yes, I’ve just been overexerting myself the last couple of days,” she whispers, but her voice is so low.
