Page 103 of Whispered Promises

“Max! Please, just leave it. Peter was right. I should’ve checked in before going out for lunch. I work there; it’s my job to be there,” she pleads, her voice elevating and her eyes wide.

Fuck, that hurt look on her face is the worst. Why does it feel as though she always looks at me like that?

“How often?”

“What?” She turns to Nate.

“Does he talk to you like that? Your boss?”

Rosy shuffles in her seat, and her gaze drops to her plate. She takes a minute before she replies. “He talks to me the way he’s supposed to, the way employers talk to their employees. How he talks to…others.”

My eye twitches; she doesn’t seem confident in her own words.

Noah clears his throat. “No one is reprimanding you. I think we’re just wanting to make sure that you're treated well.” He leans across and places his hand over hers.

Her shoulders drop slightly.

I snort, unable to listen to her make excuses for him. “He’s a fucking bully. He threatened you⁠—”

“Maxi, please.” She cuts me off, her sob filled plea as she says my name slices through my stomach.

“Going to fucking talk to this prick,” Nate curses, his voice hard.

Rosy stands abruptly, and her chair screeches across the floor. Her hands shake, and she wipes roughly at her tears. Doesn’t work, though; as soon as she does, more reappear, sliding down her cheeks. It feels the worst to see her cry…but can’t she see how not okay it is for him to treat her like that?

“No, stop it. None of you is interfering in my life. Because it’s my life.” She sniffles, and it hurts to see her so torn up over this. “You can’t all just come barging into my life and make decisions for me. I’ve lived my life without you all just fine. I don’t need you coming in and…and changing it all.”

“That’s not what any of us are trying to do,” Noah says, before the rest of us can say something stupid. “But we care about you, Rosy.”

“Then respect my decision.” She hiccups, her eyes locked on the table rather than looking at any of us. Her lashes glisten, and it tears something up inside me to see her like this.

How do people do it? How do they stand aside and watch someone get emotionally abused and not do anything about it? I might not have seen much of the interaction between Rosy and her boss, but her body curled in on itself as soon as she saw him, and that was a familiar, automatic reaction. There was nothing one-off about it.

None of us immediately say anything, because how can we?

“Thank you for dinner, Bry. It was really lovely. But I think I’m going to go home. It’s been a long day. I’m tired…” Her stilted words trail off as she nods, unwinding the apron and placing it gently on the back of her chair.

“You’re always welcome, Rosy.”

Nate stands, his chair screeching as she leaves the table.

“No, please? I’m just going to go home and sleep,” she whispers.

The front door thuds with finality behind her.

“Should someone…?” I ask, not really sure what anyone should or shouldn’t be doing right now.

“I don’t know. I think she wants space. Going over there will reinforce that we’re not listening to her.” Bry sighs, reaching across the table to pick up her empty plate, stacking it on his before heading to the kitchen sink.

“Noah can go. You can talk her round to forgiving us,” Nate says. I’m unsure how he thinks that will work.

“I think I agree with Bry,” Noah replies, swiping a weary hand across his stubbled jaw.

“Fuck. Fine. I’m going to the gym.” Nate shoves his chair in and stalks to the door. He takes the same steps Rosy did, except whilst hers were rushed and timid, his are heavy, enraged.

“We’ve already been,” I call. Why would he want to torture himself there all over again? I mean, we haven’t even had dessert yet.

“So? I’m fucking going again.”