Veronica's eyelids flickered open, confused by the luminous ceiling above her. For a little moment, she lay there in the calm of dawn, stitching herself together as memories rushed over her: the years spent navigating life alone, raising twins with nothing but her willpower to keep them afloat. She rolled over, catching sight of the clock at 5:30 a.m., the time every other day of juggling began.
She sat up silently and looked at the crib next her bed. Tracy and Tiffany were cuddled up in a happy sleep, their plump cheeks resting against their little fingers. Years old and full of mischief, they had been the most grueling and exhilarating period of her life. While her heart swelled with love, a darkness crept in with Damien's memories, a presence engraved on the twins' faces, scattered reminders she couldn't escape.
Veronica got out of bed and went through her usual morning ritual. She prepared a pot of espresso, grateful for the warm temperature, and went over her day's plans. Every minute counted in a frail survival system. First, drop the twins off with Mrs. Rodriguez, rush to her diner duty, fit in several hours at the art supply store, and then pick up the ladies. Nights would be spent painting, her only connection to the passion she had abandoned for the sake of truth.
"Mama!" the twins called from the crib as she moved back to the bedroom.
"good morning, my stars." Veronica went down and scooped them into her hands, breathing in the scent of sleep-warmed infant flesh. They nuzzled close, and for a moment, the burden of the day before evaporated, replaced by the beauty in their embrace.
An hour later, they were out the door, her hair pulled again, her top soiled with juice, and the twins in tow, wearing mismatched footwear. Mrs. Rodriguez welcomed them with open arms and a warm grin, offering storytime and freshly baked cookies. Veronica felt a stab of regret as she kissed them goodbye; she wanted to be the one baking for them and reading memories. But she couldn't find the money to fulfill her ambitions.
The diner's customary clatter of dishes and hum of voices greeted her. Veronica faked a grin as she tied on her apron; tips were important, and clients wanted a happy supplier. It evolved into her protector, an armor she wore every day.
"Order up for table six!" the cook called out, bringing her back to attention. Veronica was weaving between the tables, picking up dishes, when she noticed a headline in a patron's open newspaper: "Castlerock Industries Expands: CEO Launches New Project."
Her breath caught. She almost missed Damien's face in the grainy black-and-white snapshot, which was older and clearer but still identifiable. Sienna's status alongside him changed, and her look became poised and possessive. Veronica's hand trembled while pouring coffee for a customer.
"Excuse me, leave out?" The buyer looked at her with interest. "A fill up?"
"Of course," Veronica murmured, gathering herself. However, the image troubled her, hovering at the edges of her thoughts as a reminder of what she'd left behind. Or, more specifically, what she had run from.
After her shift, she went to the art supply store, where her second work was ready. She felt at ease with the majority of the brushes and paint bottles, even though her personal creative aspirations had been pushed aside. She listened as customers discussed their ideas, envy twisting in her chest. For the duration of her disaster, she sought sanctuary inside the storeroom, bringing out a little sketchpad she had secreted. Her hand moved instinctively, sketching Damien's face exactly as she remembered it, each line catching the depth that had first lured her in and then crushed her.
"Veronica, wreck's over!" Her supervisor's voice, known as, jolted her back into reality.
With a sigh, she put the sketchpad away. This was not the existence she had desired, but it was the only one she had chosen, and he or she would see it through. For Tracy and Tiffany. They have now become her complete global.
She retrieved the twins from Mrs. Rodriguez's house as the sun dipped behind the buildings. They chattered excitedly, grabbing her arms and filling the air with laughter. Lower back domestic, Veronica attempted to install her easel, but Tiffany came over with a crayon drawing.
"Mama, appearance!" Tiffany introduced herself proudly, displaying a vibrant scribble of a circle of relatives.
"Is that us?" Veronica inquired, kneeling beside her.
Tiffany nodded enthusiastically. "It's you, me, Tracy… and Daddy!"
The crayon slipped from Veronica's grasp. "Daddy?" she repeated softly.
"Yeah! Like on television. all and sundry has a daddy, proper?"
The innocent question sliced via her. She amassed Tiffany near, smoothing her daughter's hair as she swallowed the pain in her throat. "a few households are unique, sweetheart. Ours is special it's you, Tracy, and me."
Later that night time, as she tucked them in, Tiffany's question lingered, its simplicity weighted with the entirety she'd labored to hide. alone inside the residing room, Veronica pulled out her sketchpad and studied the drawing of Damien. She should so effortlessly press "ship" on a message, attain out to him, however she knew the price. She didn't regret preserving him out of their lives, but guilt became continual, an undercurrent in her each choice.
A noise from the twins' room broke her thoughts. She rushed in to assuage them again to sleep, the picture of Damien nevertheless lingering in her mind.
throughout metropolis, Damien Castlerock paced his workplace, gazing over the glittering metropolis below. A document lay open on his table, the grainy picture of a female retaining two small kids caught on a protection digicam outside a café. Her face turned into obscured, however the tilt of her head, the manner she held the youngsters close, gnawed at him. A faint familiarity, like a song he couldn't vicinity.
"discover her," he ordered his aide, his voice low and sharp. "I want every feasible lead on her whereabouts."
The aide nodded and left the workplace, leaving Damien with the unsettling feeling of some thing unfinished, some thing vital slipping through his grasp. He stared at the photo, the familiar form of her form haunting him.
the next day, Veronica back to the diner, seeking to put mind of Damien in the back of her. but as she wiped down tables and took orders, her mind wandered. She couldn't deny the twins' developing curiosity approximately their absent father, and questions loomed in her very own mind. What would manifest in the event that they ever crossed paths?
near the quit of her shift, an acquainted voice jolted her out of her thoughts.
"Veronica."
Her coronary heart iced over. Turning slowly, she discovered herself staring into the eyes she idea she'd never see again. Damien. status there, within the center of the diner, searching at her as if he couldn't accept as true with she become real.
For a second, neither of them spoke. the sector seemed to vanish away, leaving simply the 2 of them locked in a silent standoff.
"I… I didn't realize if it changed into you," he stated subsequently, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "I notion perhaps it was a mistake, however… right here you're."
Veronica's throat felt dry. "What are you doing right here, Damien?"
"I should be asking you the same element," he replied, his gaze flickering to the door as if he anticipated answers to stroll in in the back of her. "You disappeared. No clarification, no goodbye. simply… long past."
"It changed into for the pleasant," she said tightly, suffering to hold her voice steady. "We desired different things."
"You imply I wasn't sufficient," he shot lower back, bitterness lacing his phrases.
"It changed into greater complex than that." Her voice shook, betraying more than she intended. She glanced on the clock, unexpectedly determined to go away, to get away the depth of his presence.
Damien's hand stuck her wrist before she should slip beyond. "Veronica… wait. I saw you, with them," he stated, his voice almost a whisper. "The youngsters. Are they…?"
She closed her eyes, coronary heart pounding. This changed into the instant she had feared, the one she'd spent years averting. She may want to deny it, maintain her secrets buried, however something in his expression made her hesitate.
"yes," she whispered finally. "They're yours."
A flicker of surprise, then something else, crossed Damien's face. His hand tightened around her wrist, and for a moment, she notion he might say some thing, some thing that could exchange the whole lot.
but alternatively, he launched her, his expression shuttering into some thing unreadable. "You had no right," he stated quietly, anger simmering below the calm. "You had no proper to preserve this from me."
"Don't talk to me approximately rights, Damien," she shot returned, the words spilling out earlier than she may want to prevent herself. "I did what I thought turned into best for them, and for me."
"maybe that's true," he said, his voice bloodless. "however it doesn't exchange the truth that I deserve to recognize my very own youngsters."
For a moment, the silence among them changed into suffocating. He took a step lower back, his gaze lingering on her as though searching for solutions that wouldn't come.
"I'll be in contact," he stated eventually, his voice slicing via the tension. "you can't maintain them from me, Veronica. no longer anymore."
He grew to become and walked out, leaving her standing there, her mind reeling with the impact of his words. as the door swung shut in the back of him, Veronica felt a kick back settle over her. everything she had fought to guard turned into slipping thru her arms, and she didn't recognize if she had the strength to hold on.
As she left the diner, her mind spiraled with doubts and fears. She knew one component for certain
her carefully constructed world had just been shattered, and the portions lay scattered round her, ready to be rebuilt. however this time, she wouldn't be doing it by myself.