â Q U I N N â
You don't need to see the whole staircase; sometimes, taking just one step is enough. Epiphany isn't really about discovering something new-they're about finally understanding the worth of something that was there all along. I think we all have moments like that, moments when we're hit with the thought, 'Life is short!' and suddenly feel brave enough to take a risk. When you want something deeply, it's as if the entire universe quietly aligns to help you get there. All it takes is that flash of clarity, that instant where everything clicks, and you suddenly know the next step you need to take.
I had never been one for religion. I couldn't even remember the last time I prayed, or if I ever had. The only time I'd really stepped into a church was to meet Father McKinley, the priest who supported back my education and took me out of the orphanage. Maybe he pitied me, or maybe he was simply a good man. Either way, I'd never thought of it as some divine intervention. Faith was always something I kept at arm's length.
Elise laughed softly as she handed me a steaming cup of coffee. "You keep hovering around here since you got back. Didn't you have plans, Quinn?"
I raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Are you tired of having me around, El?"
She shook her head but gave me a knowing look. "Not tired. Just wondering how long you're planning to stall. It's been a week since we talked about this. What's keeping you from seeing her?"
I hummed, taking a slow sip of my coffee. "El, I've been working on this for so long, but the past... it still lingers. I don't know if I can keep it in check forever. What if it comes back and swallows me whole? What if, somehow, I end up hurting her again? Or, worse... what if she lets me?"
Elise didn't look away, her eyes focused, serious. "Quinn..." she began gently. "Remember that movie we watched a while back? The Last Letter from Your Lover?"
I furrowed my brow, uncertain of where she was going with this. "Yeah... I remember."
She leaned forward, her voice thoughtful. "And do you remember what that journalist wrote in her piece? After she uncovered the whole story of J and Boot?"
I nodded slowly. Ellie Haworth's words had struck me back then, but now, with my own past weighing on me, they felt like they were meant for me all along.
"The past can be intoxicating. It can draw you in, create the illusion that things were better, you were happier, or experiences were richer back then. It can also debilitate you, leaving you stuck in your memory of pain, heartbreak and disappointment, holding you back from even attempting another shot at happiness. They say if we never learn from our past, we're bound to repeat them. But can we also learn to let go of the past, learn to forge ahead, keeping the knowledge close but not letting it overtake our ability to try again, to feel again."
Elise's words echoed in the room as I let out a shaky breath. She was right. My past would always be there, a part of me. But maybe it didn't have to hold me back.
I took a slow breath, letting her words sink in. "Maybe I just needed time, El. A sign that I'm really ready to face her," I said quietly.
Elise nodded, understanding softening her gaze. "Well, you know, Quinn, when I feel torn, unsure of the answers in my head, I go to a church. Not to talk to anyone... just to sit there. I let the quiet fill me, and eventually, things start to feel clear. The answer usually finds its way through the silence."
I let out a chuckle, not dismissive, but hesitant. "I don't know, El. I wouldn't even know what to do there. I mean, it's been... who knows how long since I've set foot in a church. And wouldn't a higher power have more urgent people to listen to? People who've been praying for answers, not just dropping in out of the blue?"
Elise's smile deepened, her eyes filled with kindness. "There's no harm in trying, Quinn. Besides, it's not about who prayed more or who hasn't prayed at all. Sometimes, it's just about who truly needs it at that moment."
I stayed silent, my gaze locked on Elise. The weight of her words hung in the air, but my thoughts were a storm of doubt. I knew I couldn't keep hiding forever. I had to face Chloe soon enough, and the thought terrified me. How could I face her after everything? How could I look her in the eye when I knew how much I had hurt her? My heart ached just thinking about it.
But the longer I put it off, the more I was trapped in this cycle of fear and guilt. It was like a constant tug-of-war inside me-my heart urging me to make things right, while my mind told me to stay away. The fear of seeing the hurt in her eyes, of knowing that I might have destroyed something beautiful, was paralyzing.
I sighed deeply, letting Elise's words settle in my mind. "I never got to thank you, El," I said, my voice quieter than usual.
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, clearly taken off guard by my sudden shift in tone. "For looking after her all those times. For keeping her sane, for being the friend she could rely on. Thank you. You're really a good friend," I added, my words coming from a place of genuine gratitude.
Elise stared at me for a moment, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion. It wasn't like me to get so sentimental, especially when it came to things I struggled to put into words. But for some reason, in that moment, I felt the weight of everything I hadn't said to her.
I smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but Elise just blinked at me, still processing what I'd said. The expression on her face was like she had no idea how to respond. I couldn't help but softly chuckle at her reaction. It wasn't often I let myself get so vulnerable, but I knew she needed to hear it.
"Come on, El, you're way too humble for your own good," I teased, trying to shake off the seriousness that had briefly taken over.
4 PM-Eerie. That's the first thought that always crosses my mind when I enter a church. And this one was no different. I chuckled to myself, wondering why I even considered Elise's suggestion. But here I am, standing at the entrance, gazing at the massive high ceilings and the vast interior that stretched out before me. The cool silence felt suffocating, yet somehow comforting.
I walked slowly down the aisle, each step heavy, as if the weight of everything I had been running from was catching up to me. The closer I got to the front, the more my heart raced. Why was I so nervous? I didn't know. But my feet carried me forward anyway.
I reached one of the empty benches near the altar and sat down, letting out a long, heavy sigh. I didn't know what I was looking for here, or what I expected to happen. My gaze fixed on the altar, but the longer I sat, the more I felt a strange calm washing over me. Eerie, yes, but the quietness, the soft chirping of birds outside, felt peaceful in a way I hadn't anticipated.
I sat there for a while, not sure what to do next. I didn't know how to pray, didn't even know if I believed in any of this. My mind started to drift, recalling memories I'd buried deep. Mama's face-her warm smile, her tears, and the comforting words she once spoke to me when I needed them most. Then there were the women, the ones I'd hurt, the ones I'd left behind in a trail of regret. But most of all, I thought of Chloe. Her eyes, so full of emotion; her laugh that I could never get enough of; the softness of her touch, the heat of her kiss; the painful cries I watched through her laptop camera.
Yes, I had been watching her, quietly, from a distance. After sending that last note through her laptop, I knew I couldn't allow myself to respond any further. I would've rushed to her side in an instant, but I couldn't. So, I did the only thing I could-I watched. Watched as she lay in my bed, alone, crying herself to sleep. It hurt, it tore me apart, but I did nothing. I had to do nothing.
As the memories played out in my mind, I could feel the tears slipping down my face. I hadn't realized they had started until I felt the warm droplets on my cheeks. The weight of everything-the guilt, the regret, the longing-was too much to hold inside anymore. I let the tears come, unable to stop them. It was all I could do in that moment.
I sat there for a long while, surrounded by the silence of the church, but no clarity came. No answers, no divine revelation. And yet, I had already expected that. But still, something about letting my emotions pour out in this space felt different, almost like I had released a burden I didn't realize I was still carrying.
After a while, I composed myself, wiping the remnants of tears from my face. I slowly stood up, letting the quiet calm settle into my bones. As I reached the church door and stepped outside, I breathed in the fresh air, hoping it would clear my head. But as soon as I was almost out the door, a small voice called out to me.
"Hi! This is for you."
I turned to see a little girl standing there, holding a delicate blue rose in her hands, a thin thread tied around the stem, with a tiny piece of paper rolled up and attached to it. She looked up at me with wide, innocent eyes.
I crouched down to meet her gaze, offering her a soft smile. "Thank you, sweetie. But who's it from?" I asked, taking the rose gently from her hands.
She shook her head, a smile blooming across her face. "No one, just me."
Her smile was so pure, so warm, that it softened something deep inside me. I couldn't help but smile back. "Well, how much is this beautiful flower?"
"Nothing," she said with a quiet giggle, her voice like a soft melody. "I just want to give it to you."
I squinted, studying her face, wondering what made her so sure that I needed this little act of kindness. "Why?"
"Because I feel that you needed it," she answered with a soft laugh, skipping past me in the same motion, her tiny feet barely touching the ground.
I watched her skip away, the innocence of it all making my heart swell. She was just a child, but there was something about her, something that felt meant to be. Then, I turned my attention to the blue rose in my hands. Blue. Chloe's favorite color. My chest tightened at the thought.
I gently picked up the small rolled-up paper dangling from the flower and unwrapped it, curiosity pulling at me. As soon as I read the note, my heart began to race. The moment I read those words, something inside me clicked. I felt a rush of warmth and clarity. It was as though the universe had just handed me exactly what I needed-a sign. It was the clarity I had been seeking, the sign that I had been waiting for. In that moment, everything made sense. I had my answer.
My eyes darted around the area, looking for the little girl, but she was gone-vanished without a trace. I stood there, holding the blue rose, a smile creeping onto my lips. In that moment, I knew exactly what I had to do. I turned on my heels, my heart pounding in my chest, and before I even realized it, my feet were moving.
I could feel my pulse quickening as I rushed into the room, barely noticing the startled look Elise gave me when I flung the door open. Without saying a word, I headed straight for the table where my laptop sat, opened it, and began typing furiously.
"Quinn? Are you okay?" Elise's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts. She had moved closer now, her voice laced with concern. But I barely heard her. My eyes were fixed on the screen, processing everything with newfound urgency.
Then I froze. My gaze shifted to Elise, watching me with a mixture of confusion and worry. My breath shallow, my hands still gripping the edge of the table. Without a second thought, I stood up, walked toward her, and pulled her into a tight embrace. She tensed for a moment, unsure of what was happening.
"Quinn? What's going on?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
I pulled away just enough to look her in the eye, my smile more genuine than it had been in a long time. "Thank you, El," I whispered, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. "I've got my answer now."
Her confusion deepened, but her gaze softened as I broke the embrace. I smiled at her, trying to convey the certainty that was flooding through me, the weight that had been lifted from my chest.
"I need to see her now."