She smiles at me over the rim of her mug. “You’ve got practice later, right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Late one.”
“Okay.” She hesitates, then adds, “I don’t have any lectures today. Do you want me to stay here or I could bring my camera to the rink maybe?”
“Stay,” I say immediately.
Her smile softens. “Okay.”
I watch her turn away, and my chest aches. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserveher.
At the rink, everything is noise and impact and control. I throw myself into drills harder than usual, taking hits I don’t need to take, skating until my lungs burn. The guys notice.
“You trying to kill yourself today?” Ryan mutters as we line up.
“Just working,” I snap.
He eyes me. “You look like shit.”
I don’t argue. Every time my mind wanders, it goes back to Rose. To Talia’s words. To the truth clawing its way closer to the surface. It’s only a matter of time before someone connects the dots. Before Talia decides to go nuclear. And when that happens, Rose will find out anyway.
Better it comes from me. I know that. I just don’t know how to survive it.
That night, when I get back, Rose is curled up on the couch with her laptop, editing photos. She looks up when I come in, smile bright and unguarded, and something in me fractures.
“Hey,” she says. “I ordered food.”
“Thanks,” I manage.
We eat together, knees brushing under the coffee table, her foot nudging mine playfully. She laughs at something on her screen, then sobers, studying me. “You’ve been quiet all day.”
I nod. “Just tired.”
She sets her fork down. “You don’t have to protect me from everything, you know.”
The words hit too close to home. “I know,” I say carefully.
“If something’s wrong,” she continues, her voice gentle, “I want to know. Even if it’s hard.”
I look at her, and the urge to confess surges so violently it makes my hands shake.
Tell her. Now.
My mouth opens. The image of her face crumpling, of her pulling away from me in horror, slams into my mind. I close it again. “Nothing’s wrong,” I lie.
The disappointment flickers in her eyes before she smooths it away. “Okay.”
She doesn’t push. She trusts me. And that trust is going to destroy us.
That night, she falls asleep quickly, exhaustion finally catching up with her. I lie awake beside her, staring into the dark, the weight of my secret pressing heavier with every breath.
I know this can’t last. I know I’m running out of time. But as Rose shifts closer, curling into me as though I’m her safe place, I do the cowardly thing.
I hold her tighter and I keep hiding.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ROSE
