Page 123 of Wait for Him

Not collapse. Close.

Every light goes out again, only this time she's doing it herself. Room by room. Lock by lock, and I have never been more afraid of her than I am of this stillness.

"I'd like you to leave, please."

She doesn't look at me when she says it. She's already picking up the towel and empty glass, tidying the scene of us like they're simply objects left out after company.

Please don't.

Please, Rose.

"Okay." My voice comes out wrecked. "When will I see you again?"

She stops in the middle of the room, turns, and looks at me with absolutely nothing in her face. I know what she's going to say before the words leave her mouth, the way you know the ground is coming after you've already jumped.

"You won't."

Then she turns away and carries the glass into the kitchen, setting it gently into the sink like it matters, like it's the only thing left in this room she can put down without breaking it.

I stand there for another second, long enough for every instinct I have to start screaming at me to follow her, explain again, beg, do something.

Instead, I walk out of her apartment without another word because the last thing I will ever do to Rosalie Bennett is refuse to leave when she asks me to.

The walk down the hallway might as well be miles. I don't feel my feet hitting the carpet or hear anything outside the rush of blood in my ears. My heart feels like it's calcifying inside my chest, going to stone one chamber at a time, and by the time the elevator finally chimes, I'm not entirely sure there's anything left in there worth saving.

The doors slide open, and Bennet steps out.

He's still wearing his suit from the office, tie yanked loose, and the look on his face tells me he's seen something. Maybe one of the recordings. Maybe somebody called him. Half the goddamn lobby was either filming or watching live, so it was only a matter of time.

His eyes go from me to Rose's door and back again.

"How long?" He steps directly into my space. "How long have you been fucking around with my sister, Jackson?"

There it is.

"Ben—"

"Don't." His jaw works hard enough that I can see the muscle jump. "I'm going to ask you one more time. How long?"

And here's the thing he can't see, I have nothing left to protect for myself.

She's already gone.

The worst thing that could happen to me happened two minutes ago when Rose looked at me like I was something she needed removed from her life. Whatever Bennet does to me in this hallway is weather after the house has already burned down.

But Rose's secrets aren't mine.

They were never mine.

Learning that lesson just cost me everything I have, and I'm not going to fail it twice in the same fucking day.

"Since New York," I say. "Before that, eight years, give or take, if you're counting what I felt instead of what I did. She's the woman from Fresno."

His fist closes in my collar so fast my back hits the wall before I register him moving, hard enough to rattle the door of the apartment beside us.

I let it happen. I don't lift a hand.

"Fresno, Jackson? The random woman you fucked in a hotel room was Rose?" His voice is low and shaking. "You're married, Marcus. You had her sneaking around with a married man. My sister. And now she's... I saw a video. I saw her face. What did you do to her?"