Page 94 of Dear Rosie

“Well, if he ever does, don’t give him a hard time about it.”

“Maybe I’ll show him some YouTube videos of Siberian tigers hunting. So he can learn some tips.” My tone loses its humor as I talk because I’m getting distracted by the neighborhood.

It’s not bad. But it’s not great either.

And no matter how capable the woman sitting beside me is, I don’t like her living here alone.

“I bet he’d like that.” Rosie carries on with the cat discussion.

I take the final turn onto Rosie’s street.

The streetlamps are still on, but they don’t seem bright enough. Because even with the sunrise creeping onto the horizon, the buildings are still covered in shadows.

She sits up straighter. “It’s up on the left. The second apartment building.”

Her tone has changed too, and it makes me feel like an asshole. I don’t want her to think I look down on where she lives. It’s not about luxury or wealth. It’s about safety.

She points. “You can pull in there.”

I turn the wheel and pull into the tiny parking lot in front of her building.

Spotting a van with her business logo, I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

She lives alone, and her van announces exactly where to find her.

There’s an empty spot two down from her van, and I pull into it.

“Thanks for the ride.” Rosie unbuckles her belt. “I, uh, it was nice to see you.”

I put the vehicle in park and turn to face Rosie.

She has one hand holding her purse in a white-knuckle grip, and the other hand is on the door handle, like she’s ready to jump out.

“It was nice to see you too.” I tell her the truth.

She gives me a soft smile, then she opens the door and slips out.

Rosie pauses, one hand on the door. “Bye, Nathan.”

The words feel like daggers.

Like she’s saying goodbye for good. Cutting me from her life.

I want to shout. Want to ask her why she’s acting like this.

Why she’s been acting like this since I first saw her.

Ask how she can act like the hottest night of my life meant nothing.

I want to ask her why her eyes are full of secrets.

But mostly, I want to tell her I want to see her again.

That I want to see her every day.

That I haven’t felt this sort of connection with anyone before. Only ever with her.

But then she shuts the passenger door and walks away.

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