Page 27 of His Wicked Revenge

Once I left, I drove around to clear my mind and calm myself down, but I was infuriated with Veronica. I ended up going back to the party. I parked several houses down and sat in my car, waiting until she came out.

When I saw her leaving, I watched her as she walked fearlessly, like nothing was going to hurt her, like no one would ever find her.

So, before returning to my parent’s house, I decided to make a pit stop.

Wanting to pay Veronica a visit, I followed her home. I waited outside in my car, parked in a spot with no street lamp, to see which light turned on when she went to her apartment.

The 4th floor. Good to know.

Waiting, watching, contemplating.

I felt the heat of anger burning inside me as I continued to watch her walk around her apartment. What was she doing? Did she really feel free? Safe?

For three years, I have had revenge on my mind, so I knew the right thing to do in this moment would be to fuck with her a little bit. Scare her, if you will.

I decided to throw small rocks at her window until she finally peeked outside to see what all the ruckus was about, and then I hid behind a garbage can.

In the back seat of my car, I found a Polaroid camera that Carter had left there. Using it, I took a picture of Veronica in the window, and once it developed, I wrote “found you” across it.

Someone inside was kind enough to tell me which apartment she lived in, so I slid the picture under her door. I walked away feeling proud of myself.

When I got to my car, I saw her peek her head out the window just slightly. She quickly turned off her lights, and I felt a sense of relief knowing she would not be sleeping well tonight—or at least I hope so.

An hour later, I pull into the driveway of my parent’s house. The air around me is quiet except for the chirps of crickets scattered in the grass and bushes.

Carter was having a sleepover here, seeing as a party was happening at his home. But seeing as it is eleven at night, the house has no lights on.

They turned Chloe’s childhood bedroom into a room for Carter, who had all the say in decorating. Given his love for drawing, they let him paint his designs on the bare walls. The drawings range from dinosaurs to cars.

I sit for a few more minutes before exiting the car. When I make my way up the path, I bypass the front door and walk around the side of the house toward the backyard. The freshly mowed grass is soft beneath my shoes, and the crisp scent of cut grass smells like a proper summer.

Inhaling a long breath, I allow it to travel deep inside my chest while I walk towards the gardens. The flowers are vibrantly colored under the night sky, and seeing them makes me smile.

My mother would be so proud of how they kept up with her beloved hobby. I tuck my hands into the front pockets of my jeans as my eyes lift to the greenhouse just past the patches of flowers.

The windows are foggy—not due to the weather but because they haven’t been washed in some time. Keeping up with the garden was easy, but the greenhouse was another story. I curve around the flowers and head down the stoned path to the glass structure.

In the building, multiple plants are withering away to nothing. Seeing them lose their life fills me with sadness, the emotion I’ve been trying to hide somewhere deep within me.

Although it is stuffed away in the darkest part of me, it still manages to crawl around, digging at my insides as the grief tries to reacquaint itself with me.

No matter how hard I try to ignore it now, it’s like a child throwing a tantrum.

They continue to scream and cry when all you want is for them to calm down, but you have no idea what to do to get them to that point.

That’s how I feel right now. I have no clue how to dampen the grief and sadness that makes its way to my heart anymore.

So, I welcome the emotion like an old friend.

My knees buckle, making me fall to the dirt, where my head drops into my hands. The tears begin to flow out of me, and a guttural sob rips through my body.

I’m finding it difficult to breathe as my chest heaves, and I grip at my shirt, the material scrunching up in my fist while I attempt to suck in a breath.

I raise my head and face the ceiling, trying to breathe normally. My voice comes out stuttered and broken through the rough cries that escape me. My vision is lined with tears, blurring everything around me.

I don’t realize I’m not alone anymore until the sound of the greenhouse door closing registers.

Blinking away the blurriness and failing, I see the outline of a small figure. Swallowing hard, I attempt to collect myself but struggle.