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“Rose?” The woman questioned Martin with his gaze lifted back to her.
“Rose Denton.” The woman paused.
Her expression clear as she worked through who he could be talking about, when suddenly she arched her brows.“Rose Denton? Wow. Was she happy to see you? A blast from the past.”
Martin scoffed with a shake of his head. “Didn’t seem like it.”
“Well, I can’t say I blame the girl.” The woman commented. “You weren’t the nicest guy back in the day.” She added. “Asshole, really.” Martin chuckled.
“Don’t hold back there, Annie.”
“Not my style.” She added. Martin sat back in his chair; his gaze drifted to the distance as he started to think of the last time he saw Rose, how she looked, and the pain from his remarks about her gown.
“You know, the last time I saw her, she cried.” His eyes locked hers. “I had tormented that girl through our entire school life. One thing after the other, small shit.”
“Like what?” The woman asked.
“Her weight mostly, though a few times I remember asking her for advice on growing facial hair like her.”
“Oh, Martin.” The woman sighed.
“You know, the girls in school didn’t look like her. Her stumpy stature, curly red hair, she dressed so sluggish.”
He stopped, realizing even then, he made excuses for what he did.
“I’m sure she’s let that go by now.” The woman reassured him.
“You didn’t see how she looked at me.”
“Perhaps you should apologize then.” She suggested. Martin with a slight chuckle.
“Perhaps.” He agreed.
“Just remember, those two words don’t mean dick if you don’t mean them.” The woman patted him on the shoulder before she stepped from the room with a slow stride. Martin reached for the yearbook once more. He flipped open to her picture. Though he now saw the resemblance between the girl he knew and the woman he met, there was something else. Had he been so blind he missed it all those years ago? That smile, those eyes, even with their sharp, angered glare, aimed toward him.
Martin knew she hated him; hell, he couldn’t blame her for how he behaved so many years ago. Yet, he wasn’t the same man he was then. He knew there was more than being popular, being cruel for the sake of humor. Had he been given this chance to right the wrong he did to his favorite target? There was only one way to find out, he thought, his lips curled to a soft grin. His stare set on her picture.
CHAPTER3
Rose
Martin Brock. Rose could not believe the boy who had made her life a living hell walked into her bakery. The boy who had, on many occasions, caused her to leave school in tears. The boy who had made her dread waking up or even leaving her room. The boy who often caused her to hide in the restroom and eat lunch alone. The boy who taught her to hate herself, the one who crushed the self-esteem she had.
Rose had always credited him with how she saw herself, which made her settle more times than she cared to admit. He was the boy you’d see as the villain in a high school teen drama, the one nothing ever touched.
Rose had thought many times about what she would say to him if she saw him again, yet it all went out the window when he stood before her. She would have loved to slap him, to tell him how he made her feel, but her words never found their form. What difference would they have made? She thought he was who he was, undoubtedly a success, about to be a father, happy…of course, he had his happy ending. So, she put on that brave mask she had learned to wear, something she could credit to him somehow.
The day had been long after she saw Martin, and though she tried to put him out of her mind, he remained. The memories of what he had done flooded back, but in the same instance, so did his smile. Rose would deny it to anyone who asked, and she hated the reality of it, but he had grown into a handsome man. Not that she was shocked by this. As the day ended and Rose made her way up her front path, her eyes lifted, and her steps stopped with a shocked gasp.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her chest heavy.
“I wanted to stop by, make sure you were doing…” Rose shook her head at his words, followed by a scoff.
“You wanted to make sure I was doing okay?” She snapped, finishing what she knew would be his statement. “You lost the right to worry about me long ago, Roy.”
“Rose, don’t be like that,” he said with a quick step from her porch. “Just because we aren’t married anymore doesn’t mean we can’t spend time together.” Rose paused at his words. Was he? She started to laugh, and her head fell back as she closed her eyes. Was he insane? She thought. She could hear the sole of his boot moving along her stone walkway; her gaze returned to him as she held out her palm for him to stop.
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” she asked, without wanting an answer. “Where is your new model? The one carrying your baby?” She snapped Roy with a grunt of annoyance.
