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Jude’s slow smile was all the agreement she needed.
Rosa’s body thrummed with anticipation as they slipped away from the beach, treading the familiar path back to Jude’s bungalow. But for once, it wasn’t the expectation of his hands on her body that made her blood buzz. This was something entirely new.
This wasn’t sex. This was love.
Because she had to tell him. She couldn’t let him leave without knowing how she felt.
Maybe it would change nothing, but she knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t try. And as her family well knew, Rosa didn’t know how to not say whatever was on her mind.
The moment the bungalow door closed behind them, Jude dropped his guitar case to the floor and his hands were at her waist, his mouth at her neck, and it took all her mental strength to say, ‘Wait.’
If they started this, she wouldn’t be able to stop it. And they needed to talk first.
Jude pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes. ‘What’s the matter?’ The concern in his voice was a warm comfort around her heart.
He’d loved her once. Maybe he could again.
Maybe even enough to give her what she needed to be able to have this.
‘I need to...can we talk? Just for a moment?’
If he said no, this wouldn’t last any longer, anyway. And if he said yes...then there was no rush any more. They could take all the time in the world.
The expanse of for ever stretching out before them, together, for the first time didn’t feel like a life sentence. Like a punishment.
It felt like the ultimate in opportunity.
As long as it could happen her way.
‘Sure.’ Frowning, Jude led her to the small seating area, pouring them each a glass of wine from the carafe on the counter. ‘What is it?’
Rosa bit her lip. She wasn’t good at subtle; she never had been. And she couldn’t twist words and make a fancy argument as Anna could. She relied on her pictures, an image to tell a hundred stories, with just a few words where necessary to illuminate the subject.
She wasn’t a poet, like Jude. She couldn’t express her emotions in clever rhyme and melody.
All she had was her truths.
What she knew to be true. So she started there.
‘You need to leave New York.’ Okay, so it wasn’t the most romantic opening, but it was true.
Jude looked taken aback. ‘Okay...why, exactly?’
‘Because it’s dragging you down. Your guilt for Gareth, your promises...and that place. When I met you three years ago, you were full of music, of life. And now...now it’s all about the brand and the label and negotiations with the rest of the band and...don’t you want to be free of that?’
‘Maybe.’ Jude put his glass down on the counter. ‘But I owe it to Gareth’s memory—’
‘No! No, you don’t.’ That was what was keeping him back. The memory of a friend who couldn’t ever be satisfied when he was alive, let alone now he was dead.
‘You don’t understand,’ Jude started, but Rosa interrupted him again.
‘Yes, I do. I understand that you made Gareth a promise to keep him alive. But you couldn’t save him. No one could. It wasn’t me being there, or even me leaving that made you break that promise. Gareth was an addict. He was sick, and he needed more help than one best friend saying, “That’s a bad idea.” And he needed to want that help. He needed to seek it out and find a way to break that addiction and he didn’t. If he’d been ready to be helped, it wouldn’t matter what was going on in your life. And even then...you couldn’t give up your life to save his. He wouldn’t want that, and you know it.’ She felt breathless, saying all the words she knew he needed to hear but wouldn’t want to.
‘Maybe,’ he acknowledged. ‘But even if you’re right, I still owe him. I made another promise, when he died, remember?’
‘And you’ve fulfilled it! You found the fame you swore you’d both fight for. You’ve lived his success for him.’ When would he see that he’d done everything he could? It was time to live his own life, his own choices now.
But Jude looked away. ‘It’s not enough.’
‘It’ll never be enough.’ Rosa grabbed his hand where he stood beside her, willing him to understand. ‘Nothing ever was, for Gareth. Even now...when does it stop? When do you say, I’ve gone as far as I can go?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Because that point doesn’t exist!’ She’d seen it before. And he had to believe her. ‘You’ll keep living your life for someone else—someone who isn’t even here to see it—for ever. And you’ll never be happy. And he’ll never be satisfied.’
Jude shook his head, and Rosa knew he wasn’t hearing her. ‘It’s not just about Gareth’s memory, anyway. I also want to keep having a career, you know. Music was my life long before you came into it.’
‘You’ll always have that,’ Rosa replied. ‘Your music is iconic now. You could write advertising jingles for the rest of your life and it wouldn’t take away from what you’d already accomplished.’
‘Thanks for that vote of confidence in my musical future,’ Jude said, dri
ly.
Rosa waved a hand vaguely. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I really don’t.’ His eyes serious, Jude moved to sit opposite her. ‘Rosa. What, exactly, are you asking me to do?’
This was it. This was her last chance to put everything out on the line, and have him take it or leave it.
Take her or leave her.
And Rosa had never been more scared in her life.
She took a deep breath.
‘Run away with me.’
* * *
Run away with me.
How many times over the years had he dreamt of hearing that from her? Of knowing Rosa wanted him with her, as she explored this wide world? Of having her choose him, for once, over her freedom?
Except she wasn’t, was she? That was what it came down to.
She wasn’t ready to give up what they had, but she wouldn’t give up anything else, either.
Rosa didn’t just want to have her cake and eat it, too. She wanted the damn bakery to deliver.
‘You want me to give up everything I have—my band, my career, my life in New York, my future—to travel around the world at your beck and call until you get bored of me again?’ Anger rose up in him, hot and furious, as he realised the truth of this.
This wasn’t love. This wasn’t for ever—because they both knew Rosa couldn’t offer that. She never had been able to.
This was convenience. It was using his unsettled feelings, his vulnerabilities after the book’s release, after Gareth, to get what she wanted.
If she’d approached it differently—suggested he extend his sabbatical away from the city until the buzz about the book died down—maybe he’d have considered it. But it was always all or nothing with Rosa. No compromise, no middle path. She didn’t know how, and she wasn’t willing to learn.
He looked down into her wide, dark eyes, and realised the truth.
He loved her. Of course he did. But that simply wasn’t going to be enough.
