Page 23 of Into the Fire

I left the room, Enzo calling my name.

I went to my room and lay in bed, crying softly. It had been months—a year—since we’d lost the baby, and I still couldn’t get over it. Sitting up, I went to my closet and pulled out the box with the tiny onesie in it, then brought it back to the bed and held it against my chest, crying softly.

I had so many regrets. In my anger, I’d made bad choices that had involved people who didn’t need to be involved. Ian had died because of it. He was a monster, but I had a hand in it too. I’d given him hope and I shouldn’t have.

The ugly words I’d thought when I’d lost Blossom popped back into my head full force.

I’d killed our baby.

It was me.

I was responsible.

Had I not gone to Ian, none of this would have happened. Cole wouldn’t be so sad. We’d have our baby. Our daughter. Maybe life would have even been different.

All I knew was that I yearned for what I’d lost, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change any of it. It didn’t matter how much I distracted myself or tried to convince myself otherwise.

Even my dad thought so. He was right. This was on me, and he’d confirmed all my darkest worries and thoughts.

I sobbed until I fell asleep, the little onesie clutched against my chest.

EIGHT

COLE

Istared down at her asleep in her bed, the onesie against her chest, the tears stained on her pale cheeks.

“Rosebud,” I whispered, my heart in my throat. Enzo had come to me to tell me what had happened with her old man. I hated that man with the fire of a thousand suns. Whenever I thought I might be able to get over shit, he did something like this, and now my girl was heartbroken all over again and blaming herself because of some stupid as fuck shit her old man had ranted over.

My heart was broken as I stared down at her with that onesie. A tear worked its way out of my eye before I slid in beside her and cradled her cheek.

“I love you, Rosebud,” I murmured.

Her lashes fluttered before I was met with the brilliant green of her eyes. She stared at me, so much pain in the emerald depths it made my chest constrict.

“Baby,” I whispered. “Hey.”

“I’m sorry,” she answered back in a whisper. “For losing Blossom. For being a failure.”

“You didn’t do any of that,” I murmured. “Don’t let him get into your head.”

She nodded, a small tear working its way out. “Do you hate me sometimes, Cole?”

Her words were like a knife through my heart. “Never once have I hated you.”

“Our baby—”

“Wasn’t your fault, Rosalie. It wasn’t. We’ve been over this. A monster took her from us. You were not that monster. Tell me you know it wasn’t you who did this.”

“It was though—”

I pressed my lips to hers to silence her. “This is an ugly memory we need to let rest in peace, baby.Let our little girl rest in peace.She wouldn’t want her mommy to cry.” I kissed her lips. “So please stop punishing yourself. I do enough of it for both of us. Your old man is an asshole. Sometimes we say shit we don’t mean when we’re upset. I get it. He was out of line, and I want you to know that. I want you to understand that. Tell me you do. They were just heat-of-the-moment words. They were wrong, but they weren’t the truth. Tell me.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“Rosalie.” I kissed her again. “Tell me.”

She cried for a moment as I held her. “It’s not my fault.”

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