Deep breaths… let it pass… do not break…
When Rose’s father had asked if he could visit her today so that she might help him with his work, Rose had foolishly thought it would present a chance to distract herself from the depression that had flattened her these past four days.
It took all of five minutes after her father and sister arrived for Rose to realize how silly such an idea was.
It started with Christopher and the drawing that she had found. While Rose could not say for sure why it was so significant, she’d had days since to think about it, and was certain that she knew who the woman was in the drawing and why Christopher had reacted the way he did.
The answer, when it dawned on her, made her want to leave the house and find Christopher to tell him she did not care. That she wanted him to come home was not a reason for their marriage to end.
Before she did that, she thought a little more about it.
If she was right in what she thought she knew, then she doubted Christopher would change his mind. In fact, she wondered if she would ever see him again. He was running from his past, and for good reason.
As for that reason? To put it simply, he was afraid.
Worse than that, he did not trust Rose. Despite all that they had been through, he still thought he needed to keep this secret from her. That she would…I am not even sure. That I will judge him? That I will tell people his secret? Or that I will no longer care for him because of who he really is?
Rose did not know what to do. She did not know how she should feel. A part of her wondered if this was for the best, as this was a marriage that she had never wanted in the first place. But another part, the part that ached and made her feel sick at all hours of the day, knew things were nowhere near that simple.
She cared for Christopher. Dammit, with how she felt now, Rose might go so far as to say that she loved him. But he did not love her in return, because if he did, he would be here, he would trust her, and she would not feel as if the world was ending…
“Rose?” her father barked. “Rose? What is the matter with you?”
“Rose!” Marianne cried. “Tell him! Tell that I cannot marry Julian. Please, Rose. You must!”
“She must do no such thing.”
“But she promised –”
“I do not care what she promised. I am your father, not Rose. And the decision is with me.” Her father nodded once and looked at Rose. “Right, Rose? Tell Marianne that you are on my side with this.”
Rose said nothing as she tried to keep it together. But she was breaking… and she did not know how much longer she could hold on for.
“Rose?” her father barked. “Rose, what is the matter with –”
“Enough!” Rose cried suddenly, slamming her fists onto the table. “Both of you, enough! Marianne, I am not your mother, and it is not my job to protect you. And Father, I am not your servant, and I do not work for you. You cannot treat me like a daughter with one hand, while expecting me to solve all your problems with the other!”
“Rose…” Her father took a step back. “What… what has gotten into you?”
“Everything!” she exclaimed, slamming her fists again. “You come here and ask for my help, not considering for one second that I have my own problems. Did you think to ask me if I need anything? That I might need help? Do you even care?”
“I care,” Marianne hurried. “Rose, you know I care.”
“Not nearly as much as you care about yourself,” Rose snapped, the anger finally getting the best of her. “I promised I would help you, but that you don’t trust me – that you cannot see that I need time, Marianne. You are my sister, but you treat me like a slave.”
Marianne gasped. “I do not.”
“Rose, that is no way to talk to your sister or me.”
“I don’t care!” Rose continued, her chin starting to wobble now. The anger was fading, replaced by crushing sadness as the reality of her world crashed around her. “I… I am just so tired. All I ever do… my entire life is sacrifice after sacrifice…” Shesniffed back the tears, wiping them from her cheek. “And the one time that I need something… the single instance where I might want some help…” She sniffed further. “All you two can do is think about yourself. I… I… I am just so tired. And sick of everything. I just want… why can’t…” The tears were falling heavily now. “Just one time, I want someone to help me, to tell me that they will be there for me. Is that too much?”
Her sister and her father gaped at her in shock.
Rose could probably count with a single hand the number of times that she had shown them such an emotional side of herself. She rarely cried. She rarely broke down. And she rarely presented anything but an air of confidence that suggested she could carry the world on her shoulders, if she needed to.
But she was sick of the act. She was sick of always being the one that others depend on. For once, she wanted someone else to help her. For once, she wanted to be vulnerable and not care how it looked. She wanted to be looked after—just once—was that so much to ask for?
“Oh, Rose…” Marianne swept around the desk and dropped to her knees, where she wrapped her arms around her sister. “I had no idea. What happened? What is wrong?”
