Best of Me

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hello, here's another update! If I'm feeling particularly kind later, I'm going to update again. There are only two more chapters after this one (24 in total). I'm debating on a epilogue, like I usually do. So, there may be one eventually depending on my school work load.

Anyway, Theo is a strong lady.

Enjoy.

Chapter Twenty-Two:

The morning was uneventful. Breakfast was a fend for yourself moment; I had a croissant and a cup of tea. Coffee just didn't taste the same.

I'm hiding out in the living room, feet propped up on the table, clicking through the television channels trying to find something that'll keep my mind off Quinn. Clearly, no matter what I put on isn't going to work. Which is great. I settle on some true crime show and let the somber and gravely voice of the narrator fills the living room.

My sweatpants clad legs are tucked under my butt, the cup of tea keeping my hands warm. I can't keep my mind from wandering, but I'm too exhausted to stop it anymore. Sleep was pointless. I tossed. And Turned. And tossed again. My eyes burn from the complete lack of sleep I got last night. I could use a cup of Quinn's coffee right now. Badly.

I'm staring blankly into the tea. Maybe it'll turn to coffee if I wish for it enough.

"She'll come back." Granny Flora says as she comes into the living room. The corners of her lips tug up slightly, before falling back to neutrality. She pats my arm lightly when she gets closer and gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"I don't know about that..." I confess.

"I do. You two were made for each other." Granny Flora settles beside me and quietly watches the show I've left on. It's going over the gory details of a serial murder that occurred during the 1970s in the United States. The details are intense. Bloody. Horrifying. Granny is enthralled, naturally. Neither of us say anything else. Occasionally, I glance at the show, morbid curiosity getting the best of me.

My eyes end up searching within the tea cup. I expected to be bitter and resentful toward Quinn. But the ache in my chest is screaming otherwise. I didn't think I could ever move past Mae's death. She was everything to me, but Quinn showed me that I could love Mae and move on without compromising what she meant to me. I don't want to be the person who falls apart again after losing someone I love. I don't want to fall into the same dark pit that I let myself the first time.

"I don't want to be the person I became after Mae died," I whisper, setting the tea cup down on the table and looking toward Granny.

"Then don't." She shrugs and tilts her head, a smile forming on her face. "We don't have a choice in a lot of things in life; we can't control everything. But we can control how we react to the obstacles we face. Maybe you couldn't stop Riley-Quinn, actually, right?-" I nod. "Right. Maybe you couldn't stop Quinn from leaving, but you can continue to be the person you became because of her."

My head drops into my hands and I heave a heavy sigh. I raise my head up, eyes boring holes into the ceiling, biting back the tears. I take a deep breath. "I miss her."

Granny nods. "She will come back. The amount of love that woman has for you...I have no doubt she will come back. Just you wait. Granny Flora is never wrong." She lifts her chin up at me, as if begging me to argue with her.

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then you pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and show her what the fuck she's missing." Granny shrugs as if it's the most obvious answer. "Your worth is not determined by the love a woman can give you. It should be determined by you, and you alone." She pats my shoulder once more, before rolling toward the kitchen muttering about finding something to eat lest the "old woman starve." Her words. Not mine.