“What he means, is that running until you die isn’t going to stop you thinking about or caring about Rosie.” Yeah…well, I could at least keep trying.
“What’s it matter? We’re done.” I was trying desperately to cut out the section of my heart that she managed to invade so I could stop wanting her so badly. I fear she owns the entire thing though. Which is probably why I feel like I’m almost dying every time I try to forget her.
“I know you don’t believe that. We sure as shit aren’t buying it,” Noah says. “Why’d you just walk away?”
“Walk away?” That has me seeing red. I push at Noah’s chest, and of course the fucking savior himself is there to push meback. “Did you miss the part about how she’s literally engaged to someone else? She was never mine, she made that clear. I was the idiot who didn’t listen.” The voice I’ve spent too long ignoring makes itself known.
Not worth it.
Not enough.
I hang my head, my hands resting on my hips as I try to steady my breath. After a beat, I reluctantly look back at them, both looking appropriately frustrated…but also…there is sympathy there. And I hate it.
“How is she?” I ask quietly. Not really wanting to know, but desperate for something.
“She’s fucking miserable, man. She’s pretending that she’s fine. She’s her normal amount of bossy and snarky around all of us. But from what Addy tells me? She’s barely holding on. She cries…a lot, and Addy has made it very clear that is not normal.” Noah finishes on a sigh, his hand rubbing his head. It makes me grumble at the fact the guys all get glimpses of her. At the same time, I’ve been avoiding hanging out with all of them because I don’t want to see her. I can’t watch her fake smile while I feel like I’m imploding from the inside out.
“She sees Addy a lot?”
“Yeah, the girls are spending a lot of time there. Sleepovers and whatever.” I like that she’s keeping her friends close. I hate that it’s not me though.
“What are you going to do, man?” Lucas asks on a sigh, his hands now resting on his hips.
“There is nothing to do. Ball is in her court. She needs to fight back. I can’t make her, and, you know…I’ve been left before. I’m pretty used to not being the first choice or being fought for. This isn’t anything new. I was just foolish thinking it would be different this time.”
“That’s a load of shit and you know it.” Lucas’s frustrated words have my skin itching with anger. I push at his chest, unable to stop the fight leaving my body.
“Do I? Do you see her anywhere around here?” I dramatically spin with arms spread out, earning me a scathing look from both of them. I know I’m lashing out, but it feels like my chest is caving in and I don’t know how to make it stop.
“All right, cool it. That’s enough.” Noah smacks at my chest and a little bit of shame sinks its way in. “You’ve been kicking everyone around because you got your heart broken. You need to take a fucking beat.”
“Easy for you to say. You and Addison practically fuck each other with your eyes every time you see each other.” Noah just drops his chin to his chest, heaving a sigh and shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, man. I’m so fucking sorry that you’re going through this and I wish I knew how to make it better. But you can’t push everyone away. We’re only trying to be there for you.”
“Yeah, well don’t.” I thought I wanted to be needed. And though I’m glad they’re making sure I don’t feel alone, sometimes I wish they’d just let me wallow. That I’d have a chance to let myself turn it all off. I rub absently at my chest, at the ache there that won’t go away. Every time I think too much about it, it feels like I lose air completely.
“Go to Chicago,” Noah says.
“Huh?”
“Take a break, go to Chicago, see your dad. Heal. Just take some time off. You need to get out of the city.” Because everything reminds me of her. He doesn’t have to say it because I’d been thinking the same thing. Not to Chicago, lord knows seeing my dad is the last thing I need right now. But a space that doesn’t smell like Rosie, that doesn’t hold some memory of her, of us…that would be nice.
I nod absently and then the three of us ease back into the run. At some point Lucas and Noah leave and I continue to press on, for some reason not shuffling out of the love songs. It’s a weird sensation, wishing the ache and the pain would leave, and at the same time savoring it. Savoring the reminder that I held her in my heart, even for a brief moment. That she had smiled at me, laughed with me, and made me feel completely at peace. I’m struggling to regret it.
It’s not until I’m home and getting dressed in a pair of gray sweats and T-shirt, getting ready for another lonely night in my quiet and cold apartment, that my phone pings with a press release.
Rosita Garcia, the daughter of the biggest name in property, Monaco Royalty, Antonio Garcia, is set to marry the casino mogul Miguel Castillo.
Of course, the article goes on to discuss the Garcia and Castillo businesses, specifically their casinos and hotels, conveniently leaving out anything to do with Rosie and her accolades. The fact she had been given her own imprint, despite it being pulled away from her. That her name is on most of the books that hit the billboard charts. That she will be featured in the next issue ofForbes…or at least, I think she will be…I wouldn’t put it past Antonio to take that away from her too.
But it’s these thoughts of her, the not knowing and seeing hers and Mickey’s names together, that has me reaching for the bottle of Macallan from my liquor trolley. I pour at least four fingers, down the lot, and pour another.
Pacing the living room, scoffing and laughing at myself, plagued with the memory of her smile, of her skin against mine, I down another four fingers. Then another…and another.
It doesn’t take long for my apartment to start to spin. The rooms are dark and I lean my forehead against the cold press of the glass window as I try to stare out at the city lights. A viewthat is usually settling has turned into another point of pain. Because Rosie and I would sit here and look out at the big city. At the lights of all the surrounding apartments. We’d people watch and wonder what they were doing while we cuddled in the dark on the floor, wrapped in a blanket. The one thing I could find quiet peace in, became something I desperately wanted to share with her. And now I’d lost it. I’d losther.She was never going to choose me.
She isn’t coming back. She doesn’t miss me, or us. It was a blip in the vast life she’s going to live. But I don’t know what is worse. Knowing that she isn’t coming back? Or knowing she is going to be miserable with him. That he isn’t going to treat her properly or love her like I can.
