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“It was for the best. You deserved more than a coffee shop.” Rose felt her cheeks grow warm with his kind words.
She felt her chest grow tighter, breathing quicker as she built the courage. “Would you like to come in?” She blurted the words out in a slightly elevated tone. She knew she sounded like a fool, a crazy woman. “I mean, I understand if you must get home,” she continued.
“I’d love to.” HE’D LOVE TO!? Rose felt faint with his acceptance. What had she done? She opened a door she didn’t know if she could close or if she wanted to. This man was hell to her when they were younger. A couple of nice words and glances, and she had managed to fall under whatever spell he placed her under. He had a baby on the way; she knew it, and still, with everything, she couldn’t find the strength or desire to stop the path she walked on with him.
Rose turned and walked into her house without delay or a single word. She held onto the door as he walked past her, her gaze lowering down his backside as his cologne glided through the air. She exhaled and closed the door with a click of the lock. Martin stepped further into the house and turned toward her, Rose with another flutter in her stomach.
She couldn’t lie; she had always thought he was handsome, even with his cruelty, but, as a man, there were no words. The way the light hit him, she found herself feeling warm.
“Um, make yourself at home. I’m going to change into something more comfy.” Martin nodded and grinned. Rose stepped back and clapped her hands together before she sprinted toward her room.
She shut her door and stood against it with her eyes closed, her breathing close to a panic attack. One. Two. Three. Four. She counted in her head and exhaled deeply. Quickly, she grabbed her phone and dialed Sarah’s number as she pulled her shoes off with a step across the room. The phone rang three times before her best friend's saddened and comforting tone came over the device.
“How bad was it? Are you okay? I can kick him…”
“It’s not over,” Rose yelled out over her friend.
“Wait, you’re still on your date?” Sarah paused; Rose pulled off her shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Where are you?”
Rose knew the reaction Sarah would have, the advice she would give. Had that been why she called her best friend? “We are at the house. Mine.”
Rose snatched her black leggings from her drawer, rolling her eyes at Sarah's coughed laugh.
“Girl, get it.” Rose pulled up the clothing with a slight wiggle, pulling them high over her stomach. She removed her shirt, moved to the closet, and grabbed a loose teal tank top.
“It’s not like that,” Rose assured her, though confused she had hoped it was. “He has someone at home. I just wanted to talk with him more.” She admitted.
“Hey, talk away, but you deserve to see at least what he’s packing after the shit he put you through.” Sarah teased.
“Oh my God!” Rose pulled her hair up into a messy bun. “You’re insane. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Without allowing Sarah to say anything more, Rose ended the call and sat her phone on her vanity. She gave a glance at herself, exhaled, and made her way back to him.
Martin Brock sat on her couch, waiting for her. The reality of it seemed so ridiculous. Rose wondered if this was a dream. Had she lost her mind, finally, and this was the alternate universe she wished for so many times? She was beautiful, healthy, able to be a real woman and have a family. She was loved and adored by a handsome man, safe.
She shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her as she smiled with his attention moved onto her with her approach. The flutter returned instantly.
“Would you like some coffee?” Her voice crackled. He had to know she was nervous, she thought. With a nod in reply, Rose quickly disappeared into the kitchen. After two cups of her best coffee, she returned to him, handing his mug over before she took her place next to him on the couch.
“Cats huh?” He teased.
“I’m a lover.” She replied. “So, tell me more about what the golden boy, Martin Brock, has been up to.” Rose lifted her mug to her lips as Martin turned toward her, his arm placed along the backside of the couch. His hand close to her shoulder caused that flutter once more.
“Well, you know most already.” He had shared a few things earlier, but Rose wanted more. She needed to know what had caused him to change so much.
“What about your father? How did he pass away?” She saw the change in his features, his gaze lowered. “But I understand if you don’t want to discuss him.” She quickly added.
“Nah.” He returned his gaze to hers; that smile she could look at all night pulled along his features.
“I enjoy talking about him. It makes it as though he’s still here.” He paused.
“He must have been a great man,” Rose said with a tilt of her head.
Martin nodded. “He was a hard ass, but yeah, he was great. He was a man of honor, something I thought I had for the longest time but realized I hadn’t an ounce.” Rose sat silently, listening to him talk. “At his funeral, people told stories about him I never knew. There are stories of him giving the shirt on his back to someone who needed it. Stories of how he risked his life to save a stranger.” Martin paused as though he was lost in thought.
“Martin?”
He gave a short chuckle. “I had worked my life being hard, strong, brave, going after everything I wanted. I thought it had been what he wanted, what he did. Realizing he raised me tough so I could help the weak.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Instead of tormenting those I saw as weak when in reality they were stronger than me.”
They shared a short moment of silence, lost in one another’s stars. “So, you have made yourself a better man for him,” Rose commented.
