Two for Tea: Welcome to Azathé (Cambric Creek #4)

by C.M. Nascosta

But more than anything else, the most significant difference between good grief and bad was that bad grief was as endless as the ocean, with no respite or relief in sight. She was bobbing on the waves with no hope of rescue and nothing but the voice in her head and the gaping hole in her chest for company, and Harper was beginning to wonder if she ought to simply succumb to the undertow.

Maybe everyone is miserable all the time, and you’re just the only one who’s shit at hiding it.

Others may be disappointed in the path you forge for yourself, but you must remember that their disappointment belongs to them and them alone. It is not yours to manage.

“Good books. Hot tea. Someone to call me a good girl as they hold me down and fuck me into next month. Maybe one of those little fruit tarts. Hot soup. A pumpkin on my doorstep. Very simple needs.”

“The shadows started talking to me,” she murmured, tears leaving salty tracks down her cheeks. “And I started answering back.”