Page 90 of Unravel Me

“What a fucking dipshit,” I accidentally blurt.

“It’s my own fault for expecting more from people who’ve never given me reason to. He’s not even listed on Connor’s birth certificate, for God’s sake. I gave birth alone, because he couldn’t step up and support me in my most vulnerable moments.”

“Fuck that guy,” I bite out, blood thundering in my ears. “Rosie,fuck him, and fuck his worthless opinion. He doesn’t know what he has, how fuckingluckyhe is to have you as the mother of his child. You gave him the most beautiful gift in the world, and he’s done nothing but take it for granted. So fuck him.”

“That’s not all of it,” she whispers. “I lost my scholarship today.”

“What?”

“My teacher, she told me he—the donor—felt like taking a break for my maternity leave was my way of stating where my priorities lied. That I should’ve chosen school over staying home with Connor for the year.”

A dark, bitter chuckle leaves my throat. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. That’s the most misogynistic bullshit I’ve ever heard. He pulled your scholarship because you chose your son when he needed you?”

“It’s just…For years, nobody chose me. I had no one, and I so desperately wanted a family of my own again. Someone to love, someone to love me. And then Connor came, and by some miracle, I had it. I had the family I’d been dreaming of. I told myself I’d always choose him, so I did. I chose him, and honestly, I chose myself. Because nobody else ever did it, and I wasn’t going to begin my son’s life by not putting him first, not when I have this opportunity to take this time with him. But now, in doing so, I’ve lost the only thing I’ve been chosen for in years.” She shakes her head, a furrow between her brows. “I worked so hard for this, Adam. I poured my heart and soul into my education, and I’ve earned this scholarship year after year. And now…now even they don’t want me.”

“They don’t deserve you, Rosie. Nobody who treats you like this does.” I brush my thumb over her lower lip. “I’m so sorry that somebody overlooked you when you were growing up, that they didn’t take the time to know you, to see how beautiful your heart is. I’m sorry Brandon is a useless twat-waffle.”

Rosie snorts a laugh, music to my damn ears after a day without it. “What’s a twat-waffle?”

“I’m honestly not sure, but my friend calls her boyfriend and brother one every time they’re being dipshits, so it felt fitting.” She laughs again, and I smile, tasting it from her mouth. “I’m sorry you lost your scholarship. I know how hard you’ve worked for it, and it’s not right. We’re going to figure it out, okay? Together.”

“There’s no figuring it out, Adam. I don’t have the money to pay for it, bottom line. I’m going to have to take the year off again and work to save up for it.”

I shake my head. “Nope. What’s option two?”

She laughs again, quietly this time, a tired, resigned sound that I hate. “I don’t have another option. I had some money after my parents passed, but I used the last of it to support Connor and me on maternity leave. There’s no other way.”

“Then I’ll help.”

“You absolutely will not,” she says firmly. When I open my mouth, she raises her brows, and I snap it shut again. “You will not, Adam Lockwood, do you hear me?”

“I don’t want you to put your dreams on hold, Rosie.”

“What’s one more year?” she murmurs, and the words sound like they hurt to say just as much as they hurt to hear. She shifts off my lap to the seat beside me, pulling her knees into her chest. She looks so small, so vulnerable, I want to wrap her in Bubble Wrap so nothing can ever hurt her again. “Today’s been a stark reminder that I’ve never belonged to anyone or anything. That I’ve never been enough, never been just right to be anyone’s first choice.” She rests her chin on her knee, staring off at nothing. “Maybe it’s less about being someone’s first choice, and more about being loved, being loved enough tobesomeone’s first choice. She shrugs. “No one has ever loved me enough to make me their first choice.”

“Hey.” I take her hands in mine, pulling her back to me. “We’ll never be right for everyone, but we’ll be perfect for the right person. And when that person comes along, there is no choice. It just…is. We exist exactly the way we are, with exactly the right people, because there is no other way to be.”

I press my lips to hers, and she opens without hesitation, her fingers sliding tenderly through my hair as she sighs against my mouth.

“I want you, Rosie. I want all of you. And there is no other choice.”

CHAPTER20

SPLITTING HER IN HALF, BUT POLITELY

ADAM

I swearthis body was made for me. Warm and soft, curled around me tighter than it’s ever been, gentle fingers that drift along my arms, a tender gaze that doesn’t sway.

This body is perfect, every sweet inch of it, and I don’t want to let it go.

We sit for so long beneath the stars, tangled limbs huddled together under a cozy blanket, Bear sprawled out at our feet. Rosie’s different now than she was before. Freer, like she doesn’t need to hide anymore. She’s dropped her last wall, put it all out there, and now she can just…be.

She never needed to hide, but I understand the hesitancy to let someone all the way in. I’m just thankful I’m the lucky fool who gets all her pieces.

She tells me about the house she grew up in, big and beautiful, an old Victorian with stained glass windows framing the front door, and a sprawling wraparound porch with a swing. Her favorite places were the bay window in the living room where she curled up to read, and the garden of peonies she and her mom planted out front. She loved all the charm the house came with, and tells me that, despite the old wiring that led to the short-circuiting that caused the fire, she only looks back on her memories there with so much fondness.

“Adam?” Rosie rubs the spot between Bear’s eyes, smiling down at his head in her lap. She looks up at me, her eyes moving between mine. “I want to apologize for not telling you sooner that I was in the foster system too. I know the ideal time to tell you would’ve been when you shared the same with me, but when you told me about your time in the system, I felt a bit jealous. You found this beautiful family, and I found nothing. Your experience sounded so wonderful, and mine was so lonely. The jealousy didn’t last, but then I felt dirty and guilty for ever feeling that way, and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. My biggest insecurities were formed during my time there, and I’ve spent the years since trying to combat them, to hype myself up, love myself enough so that I didn’t have to rely on someone else to give it to me. But some days are harder than others when it comes to remembering all the strides I’ve made. So, I’m sorry, Adam.”

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