Page 120 of Surfer's Paradise

Isaac’s mouth opened—then shut.

His silence shattered something in her.

Her vision blurred, but she kept going, pressing forward before she could lose her nerve.

“I’ve got Greg fucking Taylor—billionaire investor—offering me something real. Something that could actually change my life.”Her voice gained momentum, every word carrying years of frustration, years of longing, years of pain.

“I’ve got a gallery manager backing me. I’ve got collectors talking about me. This is the week that changes everything. And what the hell am I doing?”

Isaac said nothing.

She laughed, bitter and broken.

“I’m standing here arguing with a man who has never once said he wanted me.”

His breath hitched, his face going completely still.

She wasn’t done.

“The guy I’ve been in love with for twenty goddamn years, who suddenly decided he wanted to try me on for size.”

Isaac stared at her, his eyes dark, unreadable, like he was just now realizing it. “You… in love… with me.”

Rosie’s heart thudded violently. But there was no taking it back. She lifted her chin, eyes burning.

“Isaac,” she said, her voice firm, certain, final. “I appreciate you. And yes, I love you. Whatever, now you finally know. You’ve been too goddamn dense to figure it out so allow me to spell it out for you—I am in love with you. Always have been.”

Isaac exhaled sharply.

“But I’m not this girl. This fuck toy. This easy lay. This casual fling,” she continued, swallowing against the lump in her throat. “Not for you. Never.”

His hands twitched, his face darkening with something unreadable.

“Stop trying,” she said, softer now.

And then—

“If you can’t, then leave me the fuck alone.”

Isaac’s whole body locked up, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

Rosie swallowed hard, her hands shaking, her heart ripping apart inside her.

“That’s the kindest thing you can do for me,” she finished, voice barely above a whisper. “If you truly care about me.”

For the first time in their entire history together—

Isaac didn’t argue.

The silence between them wasn’t just silence.

It was final.

It was the line in the sand.

Rosie stepped back.

“Figure out what you want, Isaac,” she said, voice raw.

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