Page 83 of Wait for Him

“God! Why can't you just—” She tears herself out of my hands and jumps off my lap. “God!”

She starts pacing.

Not normal pacing either. She's moving too fast for the size of the office, turning hard at the walls, hands dragging through her hair and then down her face like she can't stand being inside her own skin.

I stay where I am for a second because I've unequivocally never seen Rose like this.

Not drunk.

Not furious.

Not heartbroken.

This is something else.

“I'm tired.” Her voice cracks as she turns again. “I can't fight this darkness taking over anymore. It's winning, and I'm tired. It's been after me for years. Years. Just hiding and following me.”

Every part of me goes cold, and I’m immediately on my feet, but she doesn't seem to notice.

“Nothing helps. Nothing takes it away. Everyone is gone. Everyone.” Her hands fly out like she's counting losses she can't see. “Mom. Dad. James. I didn't have a choice. I had to. I can't even have Lauren and Samson; they're his now. You're hers now. Michael is a grown man now. Fuck, David is Jet's now. No, sorry. Jethro. FUCKING JETHRO.”

She's talking toward the ceiling, not to me.

I don't know who James is.

I don't know what she means about Lauren and Samson.

I don't know half the people in this fucking sentence, but I know enough to hear what matters.

Everybody leaves. That's what she's saying. Everybody leaves, and she's run out of reasons to believe anyone won't.

“Rose.”

She keeps going.

“I don't exist.” Her voice rises, then breaks completely. “I don't fucking exist for anyone anymore. I hate it here. I can't do this anymore. Fuck this entire pointless, tiresome existence because why am I here? What is it even for?”

That's my cue; I don't wait for another word.

I cross the room fast and pull her into me.

She fights against it, harder than I expect.

Her palms hit my chest, her shoulders twisting as she tries to get out of my arms, but I don't let go. I'm not hurting her, and I'm not pinning her down. I'm just holding enough of her together that she can't disappear on me while she's saying shit like that.

“Let me go!”

“No.”

“Jackson!”

“No.”

The sobs hit again before she can keep fighting, ripping through whatever strength she had left. Her body goes loose in my arms so suddenly I have to adjust my grip to keep her upright.

“Okay,” I murmur into her hair. “Okay. I've got you.”

She cries harder.