When I woke up feeling that yawning ache of missing Rosie, I knew for sure my adoration of her was not just the bond speaking.
One painful step down, I suppose.
I spent the morning pacing the store, pretending to clean up and check inventory, but I didn’t get a single thing done and couldn’t come up with a plan for what to do next now. Eventually, around noon, I decided I needed to get out and try to clear my mind, so I flipped the sign to closed and made my way downtown with no real plan other than to try and think of whatever it was that would win Rosie back, to prove to her that I wasn’t going anywhere. She’s terrified because I confessed that I love her before the curse was broken, and we’ve set the inevitable into motion. That’s something I can’t change, nor, if I’m being completely honest, do I want to. It’s all part of our very messy story. I have to believe there’s a way to overcome the curse and break it without losing everything we’ve already built.
That’s what I was so afraid of, why I acted like a desperate man, after all: I can’t imagine losing the memories I’ve built with Rosie over the last six weeks. What happens if the curse breaks, we forget everything, and we go back to ignoring each other, arguing, and never getting past my misplaced irritation with her? Without some extravagant excuse, I know the version of myself from six weeks ago would never have gotten to know Rosie. If that happened, I also know I’d live with an ache in my chest until I died alone, one I could never understand or pinpoint, but I’d miss her every day.
“Well, hello there, Jacky boy,” Violet says when I walk into her surprisingly empty bakery. The name should irritate me, but instead it feels like salt in a festering wound.
“You with the nicknames too?” I ask.
“It’s kind of a Mayfield thing.” She leans on the counter as I walk up toward the register and tips her head to look at me. “I can’t say I expected to see you here.”
I shrug. “Honestly? I didn’t expect to find myself here.” With the way she’s looking at me, I have to assume she knows about Rosie and me going sour. “Am I banned from the shop?” I ask.
She smiles, and shakes her head, turning to grab a scone that I’ve never had before with bright yellow flecks in the icing and laying it on a plate before sliding it across the counter to me.
“No, but you look like you need a little pick-me-up,” she says. I smile and accept it, taking a bite. It’s bright and lemony, perfectly sweet and delicate, and gives me the courage to ask the question I now realize I came all this way to ask.
“How is she?” I ask finally, unable to help it. I just want to know she’s okay. If she needs space, whether it be until after the full moon or forever, I’m going to respect that, but I need to know she’s okay, that she’s not suffering the way I am.
“Poppy and I ambushed her a few days ago,” she says, confusingly. “She looks like shit, but she told us everything.” My heart stops. I don’t speak, don’t ask questions, even now, protective of Rosie. I fucked up enough: I don’t need to make it worse by accidentally telling her sisters all of the lies and omissions she’d been giving them. “We know what you two have really been doing for the last two months and about the curse.” A long breath leaves my lungs, relieved that she finally told them everything, that she had someone to confide this mess to.
“Look, we—” I start, not really sure where I’m going with this, but determined to try and ease some of the guilt of Rosie.
“My sister is the best person I’ve ever met,” Violet says, cutting me off.
“I agree,” I say, and I mean it to my core. I’ve never met anyone as selfless, caring, hilarious, and fun as Rosie. Violet smiles then, but it looks less happy than before.
“But she is also the biggest idiot and the biggest scaredy cat.”
“Hey, I don’t—” I start, needing to stick up for my girl.
Not your girl, I remind myself. Not yours, because you fucked it up.
“She can’t trust her gut to save her life. She’s selfless to a fault, to the point where it truly works against her well-being and best interests. Part of that is some kind of older sister shit, things I don’t think she would ever not have, no matter how differently our lives could have played out. She always would be protective of us, and take on too much. Part of it is self-assigned responsibility, some of it is just the luck of the draw. She told you about our parents?” I nod.
“That your parents died, that she dropped everything and stayed in town to make sure Poppy could finish school and you all wouldn’t get separated.” Violet stares at me before she shakes her head, sighing with a small laugh.
“God, she really is so blind, isn’t she?” Violet murmurs under her breath. I raise an eyebrow, not understanding. “She doesn’t tell people that, about taking care of Poppy and me. She doesn’t even tell Poppy and me that. Hell, we knew—everyone knew—that she had bigger plans than this small town, but she never actually admitted that out loud.” Silence fills the space as her words sink in before she speaks again. “But she told you.” Understanding takes over, with the warmth filling the cold spaces that have been chilling me since I ruined things with Rosie.
“What does that mean?” I ask, unable to trust my own thoughts and opinions right now.
“To Rosie, that’s a weakness. Rosie hates showing people weakness. She’s all sunshine and rainbows and pink and love stories. She wants everyone to see that and never look deeper, never question what Rosie needs or is lacking. She’s afraid that if anyone looks too close, they won’t be happy with what they find, seeing she’s human and not all glitter and rainbows.” But she showed me every side of her. The sad side and the scared side, the determined side and the stubborn side, and, yes, the sweet sunshine side. She showed me every single side, and I adored each and every one.
“I’m in love with her,” I whisper my confession.
Violet rolls her eyes.
“I know that. We all know that, Jack. Fuck, I think the entire town knows that.” I feel a blush burn across my cheeks, but I push that away. “We’re all rooting for you too. You’ve gotta win her back or it’s going to become town lore about how you two were the royal couple that could have been.”
“I hurt her,” I confess. Violet gives me a small smile before nodding.
“Yeah. You did. But it happens. No matter how long you two are together, or how perfect you are for each other, you’re going to hurt one another. It’s the human way. Emotions are messy. The real part that matters is what you do after.” It’s reminiscent of what I told Rosie that night, when I asked her if maybe heartbreak is just part of the journey and not some grand curse, but I brush that away to focus on the task at hand.
“You think I’ve got a shot?” I ask with hope in the words.
She shrugs, then nods. “I’ve read a handful of Rosie’s books. They aren’t my thing, but she likes to give them to me in hopes that one will spark me to find my happily ever after, and I don’t have the heart to tell her that her magic doesn’t work on people who aren’t looking.” I don’t tell her Rosie’s confession that she really just wants to share her favorite stories with her favorite people.