It takes me nearly forty minutes to get to Hardgrove Cemetery. I slowly approach the nearest parking space to where Callum is buried, noticing my girl instantly sitting leaning against his headstone, talking away, and my heart hurts for her. She didn’t get to say goodbye because of Al and Vanessa.
Al chose his girlfriend over his sister, the same girlfriend he married without telling Rose.
Yeah, I wasn’t too happy when her father told me last night when I called to say goodnight to Diego.
As quietly as I can, I climb out of my car and round the hood, taking a seat on it, not taking my eyes off the vision before me.
She’s wearing a pair of leggings and ankle boots, but that’s not what gets my attention. It’s the black skull hoodie that drowns her that does it.
It was my favorite hoodie; I had left it in my locker. When I went to grab it, it had vanished, only for me to go into the music room to see this angel wearing it. When I questioned her, she said, “Finder’s keepers,” and when I said I had left it in my locker, she just shrugged and continued with her schoolwork.
She was fourteen.
Fuck, I can’t believe she still has it.
My head is all over the place with everything I’ve learned lately, and guilt fills me like no other. When I saw that photo, instead of remembering who Rose is and her sweet nature, I focused on my pain.
Allowing my sister and Piper to get in my head was the biggest mistake of my life because it might have cost me the woman that I’ve loved since I was fourteen.
I’m not sure how long I've been sitting here, but at some point, Rose must have felt my eyes on her because she looks up, and our gazes connect.
I see her sigh before she says something, then turns her body, her lips touching the headstone.
Fuck me, my girl….
Slowly, she walks down the path toward me, but I don’t move. Instead, I take in her features, my eyes lingering on the hoodie and then on her wrist, where I know the bracelet I gave her sits on top of my name tattooed in her skin.
“Noah…” she starts when she stops before me.
I raise my hand to stop her, and remark, “You never stopped loving me, did you?” Her eyes widen before she swallows but shakes her head. I inquire, “And I’m your only, aren’t I?”
Her eyes tear, and she looks away, confirming it. Everything in me relaxes, knowing I have a chance—a small one, but an opportunity to make things right, to go back to where we should be.
“What do you want, Noah?” she asks, not looking my way. I sigh, resting my elbows on my bent knees, linking my fingers together, and say, “I want you to come to my concert tomorrow.”
She looks my way in shock, her eyes widening before they drop to my hands. I see them linger on her name on my finger before they move to my knuckles, and I narrow my eyes at her nonreaction.
“What happened to your knuckles?” she asks, and I raise a brow, surprised she ignored my finger.
I tilt my head and admit, “I punched your brother.” She looks at me with shock, and I ask, “How long have you known about my tattoo?”
She looks down for a moment before looking back up and admitting, “I saw it almost instantly when you showed me the R tattoo.” I chuckle lightly, looking down until she speaks up again, and our eyes connect, “It was the moment I knew you loved me, like truly loved me. I mean, I know you had said it before that, but they were just words, you know?”
I nod, understanding that action speaks louder than words, and rasp, “I still do love you, Rose. I never stopped; my music is proof of that, don’t you think?”
She winces and looks sheepish, causing me to raise my pierced brow at her. Then she admits, “I haven’t heard your new music, Noah, only ‘Rose’s Thorns’.”
I sigh, dropping my head in my hands and mumbling, “So you haven’t heard ‘Falling Petals’ or ‘Consumption’?” She clears her throat, and I look up, and she gives me a sheepish smile, and I groan. “Fuck’s sake, Rose, my whole album isn’t a heartbreak album like you probably think, yes there’s heartbreak in there because, newsflash, I was fucking heartbroken, still am, but there are several songs dedicated to how much I fucking love you, and wanted you in my arms again. Dammit, the album is calledRoses.”
Her mouth opens a little, and I sigh and stand up. Gently, I cup her cheeks, making her look up at me. A few tears fall down her cheeks, and I gently wipe them away with my thumbs, then whisper, “You are all I think about, Rose, and I don’t know if that’s unhealthy, but I also don’t give a fuck.” My eyes peer down into hers. “All I’m asking for is a chance. I need you to come to this concert; I need you to hear the words I’m singing, please. Because then, maybe, just maybe, you might understand better where I wasthenand where I amnow. Please, Petal.”
She squeezes her eyes shut tight, and I gently place my forehead against hers.
“One chance, that’s all I’m asking for, just one chance to prove to you how much I need you, and besides, I can’t think of anything better than having you there for my twenty-first….”
nineteen
Rose