“You can’t.” Rose pursed her lips and pressed her hands to her knees, standing on shaking legs. She had wished to be a woman who was bold, who could be depended on to solve problems for those in need, even if it meant sacrificing what she wanted. “It has to be me.”
Prior to today, Ben would have considered spending a night in a New York City jail a rite of passage for an activist. He was inherently cautious, and despite several close calls during his years of advocacy, he’d thus far avoided the pleasure of being a guest of the city. Now that his stay had extended through the night and into the morning, the righteous indignation that had burned in his chest withered away and died, replaced by a hollow sensation, as though his insides had been scraped out and tossed aside.
He’d been staring at the same spot on the floor for hours, trying to determine the origin of the rust-colored stain that crept from the edge of the bench bolted to the concrete towards the center, snaking over cracks in the cement and clumps of dirt and hair before dissipating into nothingness.
What an idiot, what afoolhe had been. To be the target of a slur was not a novel experience, and one that had never roused such a fury from him before. But Ben knew the words were not the cause of his anger.
Rose. That bastard had put his hands on her and made hercry out. Hearing the fear in her voice had blurred his vision, heightened his senses even as the world narrowed to the man in front of him, his snarling lips and hishands on Rose. No other option existed but to defend her, protect her. And he’d been successful, in his own way. He could assume Garrett had gotten her to safety, that she was back in the apartment and probably worried sick over him.
He opened his hand and closed it, flexing his swollen knuckles and wincing as the scabbing flesh broke open again. When had he become a man who would sacrifice everything for one woman, forgetting his other obligations and responsibilities?
When I fell in love with Rose Waverly.
Ben stood and instantly regretted it when his ribs screamed in pain. Bruised, most likely not broken because he could breathe. When he spoke at the rally, he would need a sturdier podium, one that he could lean—
The rally. Ben sank down on the bench again and winced as the jolt of pain tore through his ragged body. He was certain Ruffgate had the connections to ensure Ben stayed in jail until after the rally, perhaps after the vote. He was failing,failingthe people who depended on him. Even Rose—what was happening to her now that he was behind bars?
“Benjamin North,” a guard barked, and Ben stumbled to his feet and watched the uniformed man glare at him before opening the door to his cell. Ben stood in place, too stunned to move. “Yer out.”
“O-out?” Ben stammered. “But how—”
“I don’t ask questions. They said yer out, so get out.”
Ben nodded dumbly and stepped through the cell door, wincing with each step as he followed the guard down a long, narrow corridor lined with similar dank cells. The man motioned towards the door with his chin and turned back without another glance.
Ben moved forward on shaking legs and winced as his own odor, a pungent mix made more powerful by sharing a cell with several other unwashed men, reached his nose. His jacket was gone, his shirtsleeves stained and wrinkled, and his trousers had torn out at the knees.
His eyes burned as he stepped onto the street, despite the thick shadow of clouds and the rumble of an approaching storm. A wave of nausea and vertigo struck hard enough to make him bend over and moan.
“Mr. North?”
Ben turned towards the unfamiliar voice. The man watching him was the epitome of a gentleman, and Ben recognized the fine tailoring of his black wool topcoat and bowler. His lips were twisted into a scowl beneath his thick mustache, and when the man met Ben’s gaze, Ben stifled a gasp.
He would recognize those impossible evergreen eyes anywhere.
“Mr. Waverly.” Ben’s voice was hoarse from lack of use. Rose’s uncle nodded in affirmation. “Did you—why are you here?”
He looked over Ben’s rumpled appearance and sighed. “My niece came to me last night and asked for my assistance in securing your release.”
Ben’s lips parted in disbelief. “Rose? Where is she?”
“She left this morning to return to England with her fiancé.”
A crack of thunder pierced his ears alongside the wordsleftandfiancé, tearing his insides to ribbons.
When Aiko had died on that horrible night years ago, he’d known for hours that her passing was inevitable. And even so, when it happened, he felt his heart sucked from his breast with such violence he thought he too would die, for he couldn’t survive the pain. He had, and now, even knowing from the beginning that Rose would eventually leave him, that it was too much to dream she would stay, his chest felt the same cavernous, aching vacuum of loss.
He must have stared into the middle distance for a long time, because Waverly cleared his throat, and it surprised Ben to see the man’s face painted with sympathy. “Rose made it clear you are important to her, but I hope you understand why she had to leave."
Important, but not important enough for her to stay.
“My brother would settle for nothing less than her immediate return, and I empathize. For a father to not know where his daughter is, if she is safe…” Mr. Waverly trailed off and averted his eyes.
On any other day, Ben would have pressed the man, asked if he regretted casting Abby out, but his heart ached too acutely for anyone else’s burden. He would be selfish today. “I understand,” he managed. Because he did understand; Rose’s returning was the only logical conclusion to this month of adventure. He had been a fool to believe in happily ever after.
“My niece gave me this for you.”
Ben took the envelope from Waverly with a shaking hand, and the man moved as though he wanted to comfort Ben, but thought better of it and stepped away.
