The lingering question kept me up 2AM, who do you love? I wonder 'til I'm wide awake Now I'm pacing back and forth Wishing you were at my door I'd open up and you would say "Hey, it was enchanting to meet you" All I know is I was enchanted to meet you

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

When you are close to passing away, your whole life will supposedly play out in front of your eyes all at once. When you are there without a choice, ready to travel to heaven or hell or purgatory or wherever you felt you would go, the events of your whole life will play out in front of your eyes. And with it would come feelings of regret and guilt, remorse for the things you did not do, and humiliation for the things you did do. This was the terrible way that life ensured that you carried the weight of remorse and embarrassment even in the last moments of your life, even in the final second before you passed away.

Betty ought to have been savvier at this point and should have known better than to listen to old wives' tales or the collective they. If there was one thing that her first few years living in the big city taught her, it was this. A mentality typical of people from a tiny town would only lead her to the bottom of the tracks, where nothing significant ever occurs. She would destroy herself by believing everything that was said to her, particularly if the statements were made by unknown people. However, she had not really learned anything. After all, she did spend her childhood in Riverdale. Anyone who had the experience of growing up in the tiny town at the same time as Betty, at the period when the mystery surrounding Jason's murder was at its height, was aware that one never really outgrows Riverdale.

In this little town, where death was always lurking around the corner, she realized that her life would be summarized in an instant before her own eyes, and that would be the end of it. She had no idea it would be in this sleepy little town where all she knew would be turned upside down. There were moments when your life flashed before your eyes, not because you were close to death but because you felt more alive than ever.

At this same time, she was unable to identify the difference between the two. She could just make out Jughead's hand on her thigh and his other hand on her lower back, as well as the pull that was occurring between the two. The temptation to remain there forever. The temptation to move herself closer to him, to bury her head into his shoulders just as she had done all those years before, to take a deep breath of his scent and notice how different but familiar it was, and to draw herself closer to him. The only thing she could hear was her heart pounding, and if she listened carefully enough, she could hear that it matched the beat of Jughead's heart.

He possessed her. Nonetheless his. Always had been.

Betty's temporary wavering was made evident by the physical space she placed between herself and Jughead at that precise time. She did not remain under his touch for more than a moment before removing herself from it completely. If she had been a different person, she might not have left the place where she was. She would have left the house without even saying goodbye if it had been any of her previous boyfriends. However, in that little minute, after she had distanced herself from Jughead, she managed to get a good look at him, and in that instant, she realized how much she missed being touched by him and how much she wanted to be touched again.

She didn't bother to get up and go away; instead, she ran straight back into Jughead's arms.

She wanted to communicate that she had returned. "I'm here. I won't go again. I'll remain." The words slowly worked their way up from the place in her chest where she'd kept them hidden the whole time and began accumulating at the base of her neck. She had been considering them for many years, but she had been holding off on saying them because she was waiting for the ideal phone call, moment, and location to do so. But even at this late hour, she was aware that they were not genuine. She was aware that she would travel. She was aware that she was unable to keep these commitments.

So instead of talking, she comforted him by burying her head in his neck, murmuring an apology, and telling him how much she had missed him. She would keep saying that she missed him repeatedly until the words themselves no longer caused her pain and her chest began to feel lighter.