It was as much as I was willing to give her. I still said it with an attitude and with a stern voice, but it gave her the chance to say whatever she needed to if she so desired.
“I know you hate me after what happened last time and how we ended, and you have every right to.”
Wait, what?Of all the things I expected to hear from Rose, an acceptance of what had happened was about the last thing. Even months after we had broken up, she kept lashing out at me, telling me I was a fool to leave her, and I would never be happy without her.
Seriously, what the hell happened to you?
“I just want to make amends for what happened, LeCharles,” she continued. “I recognize that I made a lot of mistakes. I don’t have any expectations for the future, I really don’t. I just want to... just sit down and make things right.”
I was so stunned that for a good half-minute, I couldn’t find the words to say anything. I was so used to being yelled at, gaslighted, and mocked that to be apologized to...
This was Rose Wright, correct? This wasn’t someone that had assumed her identity and was trolling me, right? This wasn’t some other ex I had confused for Rose, right?
No, it was Rose. I knew it from looking in her eyes. There was no mistaking it. I would never forget that face, even when it wrinkled and aged another fifty years.
But...
I’d played this game with her before. I’d gotten burned by believing her, only to then get yelled at a week later for something that was completely inane and completely bullshit. Hell, sometimes, it didn’t even last a week. We could have great sex where we said we loved each other in the morning and be back to fighting before the end of the day. And what made it worse was there was no telling what would trigger her. I may have been dating her, but no matter how hard I tried, I felt like I barely knew her.
And yet, I couldn’t help but think that something may be different here. I didn’t have a rational reason, just a gut reaction.
And in any case, it had been a while since I’d had some meaningful relationships. Sex was far too easy to come by. In fact, in some ways, it was accurate to say it had lost its value because of the pussy around the club. But something meaningful?
Do you hear yourself right now? Do you realize what you’re doing? You’re falling into the same traps as before.
I don’t care how good or how promising it seems, you cannot allow yourself to go down this path.
“It’s too late to do that, Rose,” I said. “Because of how shitty you treated me and how awful you were, it’s too late. You were the worst girlfriend I ever had. It would have been one thing if we just drifted apart, or we had different goals. But you actively sought to hurt me and ruin me. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Just give me one chance,” she said, grabbing my arm—a gesture I did not fight. “Just one lunch or even one discussion over coffee. I swear, I’m not playing any games—no romance, no sex, not even a kiss. I know what I did. I just want a chance to explain.”
It was a nice idea. It would have made for a great story of redemption and forgiveness. But no, doing so would, at best, rekindle bad memories, and at worst, leave me vulnerable to new scars.
“Sorry, Rose,” I said. “But this is your chance right now. You talking to me here is your chance. And now, you’ve used it up.”
“LeCharles!”
But I had already walked out. I hadn’t even gotten any of the grocery items I’d intended to buy. I knew how it would work if I tried to check out—Rose would follow me all the way, leading to some awkward glances from the store staff and other shoppers. I’d get on my bike as she tugged on my arm, begging for a chance. I’d have to ride off, all the while being cautious that she didn’t jump in front of my bike or do something equally suicidal or dangerous.
There was still a chance that she would do that now, but at least this way, I could maximize the chance I had of getting away.
Surprisingly, though, when I hopped on my bike, I saw that Rose had not followed me. In fact, she had not even come outside. It was like...
Like she recognized that I needed my space.
No, that was giving her too much credit. She was still the worst thing to ever happen to me, and her being back in Springsville was only going to bring more trouble. Even if she was a changed person, even if we could... not have a relationship, but be amicable, that was going to take weeks, if not months, to build to. We couldn’t build trust between us because there was nothing to build and grow right now. She had utterly annihilated it.
So, of course, even with that absolute certainty in my head that nothing like this could work, I still thought about Rose the entire ride home.
I thought of how she looked. She had the same eyes. She was still just as fit as when we had dated. If she had gained any weight, it was so minimal that I would not have been able to tell without a scale. She still had the same seductive curves, but unlike before, when she basically blasted them out for the world to see with low-cut clothing, she now hid them with professional outfits, a choice that somehow made her more beautiful. She hadn’t smiled, but I had to imagine that her smile could still work its charm on some unsuspecting men.
I thought of how she acted. I didn’t get a single hint of her being manipulative at the store. Granted, the most manipulative people could most easily hide that aspect of them, but I was older and wiser than our last relationship, more easily able to pick up on when, say, a club bunny might have wanted to get pregnant with me so that she’d be attached to me. I didn’t sense anything like that from her.
I thought of what she must have gone through in the last decade. I knew that she had spoken about going to medical school when we were dating, which was a huge source of trouble for us, given I wanted to stay in the military, and she wanted a single place she could settle in. But the hospital didn’t need more doctors, and I didn’t think it needed any more nurses.
Briefly, I laughed at the idea of her filling the role that Kaitlyn, Patriot’s new girlfriend, had refused to take on. Wouldn’t life have been just so damn ironic if, after all of the work I’d done to get someone at the club, I wound up getting my ex? That would have been a real fucking bitch.
By the time I got home, my mind was a muddled mess, far more muddled than it should have been for making a mere grocery store visit. I needed something to take my mind off seeing Rose. I didn’t want to drink, not with it being a Monday and with no guarantees about the Fallen Saints or Hovas avoiding us.
