Page 44 of Ever After All

“No, Rosie, no,” her brother said quickly. “I’m just—oh, fuck.” He let out a ragged sigh, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason Wyatt knows is he saw me coming out of an NA meeting in the basement at Fireweed Industries. As soon as he saw me, I knew he knew something was up. I just told him because I didn’t want to have to lie. I was planning to tell you at some point, so I asked him to give me a chance to tell you. Don’t hold anything against him.”

Rosie looked utterly stricken. “Why is it a secret from me? I hate secrets.”

Before I could get another word out, she jumped up from the table and started to hurry out. The soles of her shoes squeaked on the floor when she stopped abruptly and turned back. “I love you, all of you.” She looked at her brother. “I’m glad you’re okay, and I’m really proud of you. I know recovery is really hard. I just wish—” She swallowed. “I don’t know what I did, but I guess you don’t feel like you can tell me things unless you have to. I’m sorry.”

Then she was gone, practically running out of the café. We’d driven here separately because she had to go to work. I hurried out behind her. “Rosie!”

She stopped at her car. “It’s okay, Wyatt. I understand.”

“Rosie.” I took another step closer to where she stood by her car door.

Her gaze was carefully blank. “You don’t need to apologize. I just need some time.”

“I love you,” I said.

She stared at me. “I love you too, but I still need time.” She climbed in her car and drove away, and it was all I could do not to follow her.

“She definitely needs some time.” Her father’s gruff voice came from behind me.

I turned back to find him standing nearby. “She hates feeling like she doesn’t know what’s going on, which I suppose most people do.”

I scuffed the toe of my boot on the gravel. “I didn’t even want to know this,” I muttered, throwing my hands up and letting them fall.

“Of course you didn’t. And it was her brother’s story to tell. I kind of think I should’ve handled things better when her mom died. She was at the hospital, and I knew it didn’t look good for her mom, but I kept telling Rosie it would be okay. It wasn’t, and later, she felt like I kept that from her. Then I was a single dad with a baby. I did my best to handle as much as I could by myself, but she stepped in a lot. Brent looks up to her like a mom. He’s always worried he’s going to let her down. She understands it wasn’t your secret. Just give her a minute.”

“It’s been a minute,” I pointed out. My throat ached.

Her father smiled wryly. A moment later, he tugged me into a one-armed embrace. I could feel the unsteadiness on his feet as I hugged him in return.

I understood why Rosie worried about her father. She worried about him, she worried about her brother, and now she felt like everybody kept a secret from her.

“Can you tell me how long a minute is for the purposes of this situation?” I stepped back, trying to make light of it, but it hurt like fucking hell.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rosie

One week later

* * *

There was a knock on my door, and I eyed it skeptically. People didn’t usually just stop by my house. In fact, the list of anyone who might, was short. My dad, my brother, Wyatt, or maybe one of my close friends.

“I know you’re in there, Rosie.” My dad’s voice was muted through the door.

I finished rinsing a plate in the sink before I tucked it in the dishwasher and snagged a towel as I walked over to the door.

I was still drying my hands when I opened it. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey.” He stood there and swayed a little on his feet.

And, dammit, I knew he was okay for the most part, but his unsteadiness on his feet made my chest ache. I wanted to be mad at him. My heart was still a little broken over how everybody knew the whole truth but me.

Without thinking, I reached for his other hand and guided him inside. “Dad, you could’ve texted me. I would’ve walked over there. I don’t like you walking on the path over here. It’s not level,” I scolded him.

He glanced up at me once I had him seated in the kitchen. “It’s good for me to move around. The worst thing that can happen is I fall,” he pointed out, his smile wry and a little mischievous.

I glared at him. “I don’t want you to fall! What if you break something?”

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