Page 35 of Kiss From A Rose

"Well, you're going to have to learn to because she doesn't deserve this—"

"When did you become such a fan of Rose?" I scoffed, annoyed with him for beingright.

"Years ago. Every time we were together, and I saw how she took care of y'all and how Bonnie fucking didn't, I knew you had it made. I can't believe you fucked it six ways to Sunday like this."

After I finished being reamed by my brother, I called Willow. She told me that Mike didn't want to see either Jude or me, and they were indeed going to Angel Island for Christmas.

"That's good, honey," I told her.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't want your mama to be alone for the holidays. Can you send me the details of Malou's B&B?"

Once I got the information, I looked up Angel Island and Angel's Rest Bed & Breakfast. The website's photos portrayed a stunning scene, validating Rose's enthusiastic recommendations when she had attempted to persuade me to join her.

Malou was herbestfriend, family really, and I didn't know her because I hadn't bothered to, because I hadn't gotten to know the people in Rose's life before she met me. Ignoring her needs had become a…habit. I didn't know when it started, but the more Rose worked to become a better Mrs. Rutherford, apparently, the more I worked to become a bigger asshole.

That night, when I lay in bed, I pulled out Rose's old phone. She didn't have a passcode. When I suggested it, she'd laughed that she didn't have anything to hide, and it would just be a nuisance.

I was relieved to see that she had not erased her phone, and I wished I'd gone through it earlier.

I looked through her messages—so many unanswered from me and the kids.

I went through her photos—all of her family, none of her. Not even a selfie. Rose was not on any social media and only took photos to preserve memories.

I went through her email, and it was obvious she rarely used it because it was empty except for some spam. I opened and closed apps as a way to piece her life together.

I went into her Gmail app again and started to scan her folders. One was called simplyMine. I went through it.

My eyes caught a subject line:Feeling Invisible Again.

I opened the email, which opened my eyes…wide.

Dear Dr. Mercer,

It happened again, and that's why I'm sending you this email. I'm so relieved we have an appointment tomorrow.

It was Labor Day weekend. And once again, the family was over. We had a barbecue. Gray invited people from work. His assistant was there. I know he's not a cheater, but he does spend a lot of time with her, and the truth is everyone thinks he's sleeping with her. I don't know how I feel. I don't know how to talk to him about how I feel. Jude made fun of me again. This time it was about a famous quote that I mangled. Again, it was about how I don't have a college degree.

Last night, I laid out pills in the bathroom. I counted twenty of them. I watched them for nearly a half hour. I threw all the Ambien away this time. It's too much of a temptation, you know?

I feel like I'm disappearing in my own body, and no one can see me.

Words of affirmation for today: I possess the strength to navigate the changes in my life with grace and courage.

I'll see you tomorrow.

Best regards,

Rose

There was a reply from Dr. Mercer.

Dear Rose,

I'm glad you wrote this down. Every time you have thoughts of self-harm, immediately write down your feelings, make them explicit. You can call me anytime.

Remember your affirmations, and I can guarantee you that you are indeed strong enough to navigate the changes you want to make in your life. Let's talk more tomorrow.

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