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“Say what exactly?”
“The three magic words.”
My eyes didn’t falter from hers. “I’ll say whatever you want me to say, but that won’t make any difference. Your future will still lead you elsewhere. Or it should do.”
“I don’t want it to.” She took a breath, and the depths of her newfound confidence truly began to show itself. It was enough to give me a lurch in my stomach, proud at how much her self-worth was blooming.
“You mentioned it once before,” she said.
“Mentioned what?”
“When I asked you why you threatened Scottie to save me. You said you did it out of love.”
“Yes,” I said, “Of course I did.”
“Then I’ll say it,” she said, “I love you.”
And then her cheeks bloomed, that confidence fading. She backed down, shifting in her seat, eyes dropping. “Shit, sorry. I’d better get a drink. Do you want a coffee?”
I took hold of her wrist as she went to get up, keeping her tight. Her nervous expression was pure beauty as she dared to meet my stare.
“And I love you, Rosie.”
There, I’d said it. It was a ridiculous thing to utter out loud, but it was the truth. Infatuation and love are a fine blend, but I was way past any benchmark.
I loved Rosie. I loved the little angel enough to kill someone to keep her safe, and rescue her from any kind of darkness life could ever bring.
Her cheeks were bright, the relief in her laugh a delight.
“Cool. There we go, then. Nothing else matters.”
I wished that were true.
I pulled her into my arms for a fresh round of kisses, with guilt churning underneath my joy. Rosie shouldn’t love a man like me, but there was no point in arguing that. She’d have to find out for herself.
As it turned out, my irresponsibility in contraception wasn’t out to cause troubles this month.
It was when she got her first hint of period blood the next morning that she cursed and called out from the bathroom that she’d be digging out some of my stronger tissues. She knew they were in the bathroom somewhere. I was too far away to intervene in time, she already had the bottom drawer open fully when I stepped in, revealing my stash of overdose pills and my folded letters propped behind the tissue boxes.
Her expression turned to one of pure horror as she looked up at me from the floor, with one of the pill bottles in her hand. My colour must have drained, and hers drained along with mine. Unspoken words can be the most powerful of all. She knew what they were there for.
“When were you going to do this?” she asked.
“It was ongoing. I started stocking up the day I moved in.”
She looked so hurt for me. I could feel her heart breaking. And more. There was the slightest hint of anger in her voice when she spoke next.
“And what about now? Do you still think that’s a good idea? If you think I’m going to fuck off and leave you one day, then you’re wrong.”
“Rosie–” I began, and my defeatist tone registered with her.
Her horror took on a whole new level. She pulled my half-finished letters out and tossed them on the floor. So many versions over months. The names were obvious.Katreya. Grace. Ryan.AndMichael. She held up that letter without reading the content.
“My brother,” I told her.
“Right.” She was still holding it when she got to her feet. I didn’t know if she wanted to scream or burst into tears as she looked at me. Maybe both. “And you think that’s what they’d want, is it? You think they’d want to read a letter saying you’re sorry, and that you aren’t worth it and are doing them a favour. What do you think they will do? You think they’ll be able to survive after that?”
I realised then that this situation wasn’t purely about me. Her pain was right from the soul. She struggled for breath as she carried on.
