Page 17 of Red Rose Cupcake

“Rosie, please, just talk to me,” I say, standing up and reaching for her, but she’s already at the door.

“Goodbye, Knox,” she says, her voice trembling as she steps out of the room, leaving me standing there, my heart in my throat.

Chapter 12

ROSIE

The Uber pulls up in front of my apartment building, and I climb out, grateful for the ride. Grateful, too, that Knox had insisted on driving me home after our last session, making sure I was okay to get behind the wheel. At least I don’t have to worry about my car being left at his place while I try to put some distance between us.

The ride from his house had been a blur of tears and confusion, the sting of his words still lingering in my mind. He said he wanted more, that this wasn’t just physical for him—but what did that mean? How could he expect me to just switch gears like that? To let him in when I thought we had agreed this was only about exploring, about sex?

I take a deep breath as I step into my apartment, closing the door behind me and leaning against it for support. I’m not ready to think about any of that right now. All I know is that I need to get out of here. I need to go somewhere I feel safe.

And there’s only one place I can think of—home.

* * *

I change quickly, throwing on some leggings and a sweatshirt, and head to my room to pack a small overnight bag. Oakland is only a couple of hours away, and it’s late, but my parents willunderstand. They always do. I need them right now—need their warmth, their love, and the comfort of being back in the house where I grew up.

I toss a few essentials into the bag—clothes for tomorrow, my toothbrush, some toiletries—and zip it up, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest as I think about Knox. I still can’t believe what happened between us. How quickly everything spiraled out of control.

As I sling the bag over my shoulder, I check the time. It’s nearly 9 PM, but I don’t care. I’m going.

I lock the door behind me, climb into my car, and start the drive to Oakland. The roads are quiet, the city lights fading as I head out of town and into the more familiar stretch of highway that leads me home.

By the time I pull up in front of my parents’ house, it’s nearly midnight. The old white house with its wraparound porch is exactly as I remember it, standing like a beacon of comfort and safety in the dark.

The lights are still on inside, and as I approach the front door, I can see the shadows of my parents moving around. They must have heard me pull up.

Before I even knock, the door opens, and my mom is standing there, her brow creased with worry.

“Rosie? Baby, what’s wrong?”

I don’t even get a chance to answer before the tears come. All the emotion I’ve been holding back crashes over me, and I burst into tears, sobbing into my mother’s arms as she pulls me inside.

“Honey, what happened?” she asks softly, brushing my hair back from my face as she guides me to the couch.

I shake my head, unable to get the words out. I don’t even know how to explain what’s going on. How do I tell her about Knox, about everything that’s happened between us?

“It’s okay,” she whispers, holding me close as my tears soak into her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk right now. Just breathe.”

My dad comes into the living room a moment later, his face lined with concern. He looks between me and my mom, and I can tell he wants to ask what’s wrong, but when he sees the state I’m in, he just nods quietly and disappears down the hall. A few minutes later, I hear him moving around in the guest room, setting up the bed and getting things ready for me.

“Let’s get you some tea,” my mom says gently, guiding me to the kitchen. She hands me a warm mug, and we sit down together at the table. The warmth of the tea and the steady, familiar presence of my mother helps me calm down, though the ache in my chest still lingers.

“Dad’s setting up the guest room,” she says softly, rubbing my back. “You can stay as long as you need, okay?”

I nod, grateful beyond words for the way my parents always know how to comfort me. I may be grown, but there are moments like these where I still feel like I’m that little girl who just needs her mom and dad to tell her everything’s going to be okay.

* * *

ROSIE

The smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing pulls me from my sleep the next morning. I roll over in the guest bed, blinking up at the ceiling as the events of the previous night slowly come back to me. For a few seconds, I’d forgotten about everything that happened with Knox. But now, the tightness in my chest returns.

I push myself up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes beforegetting out of bed and pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. I don’t feel like getting dressed up for breakfast, but I know my parents won’t care. I just want to be surrounded by them, by the people who know me best.

As I step into the kitchen, I’m greeted by the sight of my dad at the stove, flipping pancakes, while my mom pours coffee into mugs.

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