I am. Hard to tell since I’ve forced myself not to feel anything since you left.’
And there it was. The honesty, the vulnerability that had always seeped past the coolness he showed the world. The emotion that showed her how deeply he cared, even when he pretended he didn’t.
It had always managed to penetrate whatever wall she’d put up with him. Or whatever wall he’d put up to make her believe he didn’t feel. But he did. Which made her actions so much worse.
She’d done many stupid things in her life. Most of them because she’d wanted to find out who she was after giving so much of herself to her mother.
Like dropping out of college because she didn’t think they were teaching her what she needed to know about design.
Like moving out when she was tired of being responsible for her mother’s mental health.
Like ignoring her mother’s phone calls for almost two months after she moved out, because she thought Violet was trying to manipulate her into coming back home. When really her mother had been calling to tell her about her cancer.
She hadn’t thought anything about her relationship with Aaron had been stupid. At least she hadn’t until she’d found the lump. Until it had reminded her of how stupid she’d been by choosing not to be tested for breast cancer when her mother’s doctors had advised it.
And suddenly all the uncertainty she’d battled with in the past about her decisions had returned. Maybe they’d never really gone away. And the disaster scenario of what that lump could mean had echoed her mother’s own anxieties so closely that it had reminded Rosa that she was her mother’s child.
It would have been selfish of her to stay. To put Aaron through what she’d gone through with her mother. To put him through anything that would cause him to suffer as he had when his mother had been ill.
‘Maybe that’s for the best,’ she told him, kicking off her shoes. ‘If we don’t feel anything, we don’t get hurt. And since we’re already in this situation—’ she waved between them ‘—committing ourselves to not getting hurt doesn’t sound so bad, does it?’
* * *
He stared at her. ‘Are you...are you serious?’
‘Yes,’ she said, and lifted the plate she’d set on the table, resting it on her lap as she leaned back into the couch. ‘Doesn’t it sound appealing to you? Us not hurting each other?’
‘Is that why you left? Because I hurt you?’
She toyed with the food on her plate. ‘No,’ she said, lifting her gaze to his. ‘You didn’t hurt me.’
‘Then why did you leave?’
‘Because I would be hurting you by staying.’
‘Why?’ But she shook her head. ‘Rosa, you can’t just tell me something like that and not give me anything else.’ Still, she didn’t answer him. He clenched his jaw. ‘You don’t think you’re hurting me now? With this?’
‘I know I am.’
‘And that doesn’t mean anything to you?’
‘It...can’t.’
He wanted to shout. To demand answers from her. But that would only keep her from talking to him.
And he needed her to talk to him. He needed to know why she was saying things his wife never would have said. The Rosa he’d married would never have given up on anything. She would never have settled for backing away from the possibility of pain when there was a possibility for joy.
Or perhaps this was karma, like he’d said. Maybe this was his karma. For not acting with reason when it came to Rosa. She’d only been twenty-three when they’d married. He’d been twenty-six. Older. Wiser.
At least old enough to know that she might not have been ready to marry him. She’d still been grieving for her mother when he’d proposed. Her decision might not have been entirely thought through.
But as he thought back to the moment he’d proposed he couldn’t remember any hesitation from Rosa...
* * *
He wanted everything to be perfect. Simple but perfect. That was his plan. And, since only he and Rosa were on the beach in front of the house on Mariner’s Island, there’d be no one but himself to blame if everything didn’t go perfectly.
He took a deep breath and Rosa looked up at him. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re sure?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Because you’ve been quiet since we got here. I mean, quieter than usual.’
She gave him a small smile and his heart tumbled. Even her smile could make his heart trip over itself. No wonder he was proposing to her when he’d never thought he’d get married.
‘I’m thinking.’
‘About?’
‘This. Us.’
‘Really?’ She pressed in closer at his side when the wind nipped at their skin. It was cooler than he would have liked, but he supposed that was what he got by wanting to propose just as the sun was going down on an autumn day. ‘And what have you come up with?’
‘You’re amazing.’
His feet stopped, though they weren’t close to the place where he’d planned on proposing. This was good enough. Waves were crashing at their feet. Sand around them. The sun shining over them as though it approved of his actions.
Besides, none of that mattered anyway. Not any more. All that mattered was her. And that he couldn’t imagine another moment going by without knowing that she’d one day be his wife.
‘Well, yeah,’ she said with a smile that faded when she saw his expression. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I have something for you.’
‘Okay.’ Confusion lined every feature of her beautiful face, but there was trust in her eyes. He hoped he would never betray that trust. ‘Aaron?’ she asked quietly after a moment. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’
Instead of replying, he stepped back from her and removed the rose petals he’d been keeping in his pocket. It had been a silly idea, he thought now as the confusion intensified on her face. But it was too late to stop now.
He cleared his throat. ‘I got these from the house.’
‘You stole...petals from the garden?’ Her lips curved. ‘Just petals? Not the actual flowers?’
He smiled. ‘I wanted to take a picture of you standing in a shower of petals.’
‘Aaron,’ she said after a moment. ‘You realise you’re being weird, right?’
His smile widened. But he only nodded. She let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Okay, fine. Should I just—’ She cupped her hands and mimicked throwing the petals into the air.
‘Yes. But throw them over your shoulder.’ He handed her the petals, careful to protect them from the wind. ‘So, turn your back to me while I get the camera ready.’
There was impatience in her eyes now, but she didn’t say anything. Only turned her back to him. She was indulging him, he thought. Because that was who she was. Always putting him first, even when she didn’t understand why.
He took the ring from his pocket and took another deep breath. And then he got down on one knee and said, ‘I’m ready.’
She threw the petals into the sky and turned, a smile on her face for the picture she’d thought he was about to take. At first the confusion returned. Her eyes searched for where she’d thought he’d be as the petals swirled around them. Then, as they were carried up and away by the wind, her gaze lowered,