Chapter 25 #2
Worse than that, he did not trust Rose. Despite all that they had been through, he still thought he needed to keep this secret from her. That she would… I am not even sure. That I will judge him? That I will tell people his secret? Or that I will no longer care for him because of who he really is?
Rose did not know what to do. She did not know how she should feel.
A part of her wondered if this was for the best, as this was a marriage that she had never wanted in the first place.
But another part, the part that ached and made her feel sick at all hours of the day, knew things were nowhere near that simple.
She cared for Christopher. Dammit, with how she felt now, Rose might go so far as to say that she loved him. But he did not love her in return, because if he did, he would be here, he would trust her, and she would not feel as if the world was ending…
“Rose?” her father barked. “Rose? What is the matter with you?”
“Rose!” Marianne cried. “Tell him! Tell that I cannot marry Julian. Please, Rose. You must!”
“She must do no such thing.”
“But she promised –”
“I do not care what she promised. I am your father, not Rose. And the decision is with me.” Her father nodded once and looked at Rose. “Right, Rose? Tell Marianne that you are on my side with this.”
Rose said nothing as she tried to keep it together. But she was breaking… and she did not know how much longer she could hold on for.
“Rose?” her father barked. “Rose, what is the matter with –”
“Enough!” Rose cried suddenly, slamming her fists onto the table.
“Both of you, enough! Marianne, I am not your mother, and it is not my job to protect you. And Father, I am not your servant, and I do not work for you. You cannot treat me like a daughter with one hand, while expecting me to solve all your problems with the other!”
“Rose…” Her father took a step back. “What… what has gotten into you?”
“Everything!” she exclaimed, slamming her fists again. “You come here and ask for my help, not considering for one second that I have my own problems. Did you think to ask me if I need anything? That I might need help? Do you even care?”
“I care,” Marianne hurried. “Rose, you know I care.”
“Not nearly as much as you care about yourself,” Rose snapped, the anger finally getting the best of her. “I promised I would help you, but that you don’t trust me – that you cannot see that I need time, Marianne. You are my sister, but you treat me like a slave.”
Marianne gasped. “I do not.”
“Rose, that is no way to talk to your sister or me.”
“I don’t care!” Rose continued, her chin starting to wobble now.
The anger was fading, replaced by crushing sadness as the reality of her world crashed around her.
“I… I am just so tired. All I ever do… my entire life is sacrifice after sacrifice…” She sniffed back the tears, wiping them from her cheek.
“And the one time that I need something… the single instance where I might want some help…” She sniffed further.
“All you two can do is think about yourself. I… I… I am just so tired. And sick of everything. I just want… why can’t…
” The tears were falling heavily now. “Just one time, I want someone to help me, to tell me that they will be there for me. Is that too much?”
Her sister and her father gaped at her in shock.
Rose could probably count with a single hand the number of times that she had shown them such an emotional side of herself.
She rarely cried. She rarely broke down.
And she rarely presented anything but an air of confidence that suggested she could carry the world on her shoulders, if she needed to.
But she was sick of the act. She was sick of always being the one that others depend on. For once, she wanted someone else to help her. For once, she wanted to be vulnerable and not care how it looked. She wanted to be looked after—just once—was that so much to ask for?
“Oh, Rose…” Marianne swept around the desk and dropped to her knees, where she wrapped her arms around her sister. “I had no idea. What happened? What is wrong?”
“Is it the Duke?” Her father did not go to her, but the look he wore spoke of extreme worry. “Did he… did he hurt you?”
Rose sniffed. “In a fashion.”
“Tell me.” Her father’s voice turned cold. “Tell me what he did and I will… I will… I will make sure he lives to regret it.”
She laughed through the tears. “It is not so simple as that.”
“Tell us,” Marianne purred. “And we will decide how simple it is.”
“I don’t want to… There is nothing you can do.” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “I should not have said anything.”
“But you did,” Marianne said, squeezing her tight. It felt good to be held like that, the sense that she was safe and loved and looked after. “And you were right to.”
“She is right.” Slowly, her father walked around the table. Then, he dropped to one knee and rested his hand on his daughter’s leg. “I know you think that I do not care, Rose. That's the only thing I care about: how I can use you. But that is not true.”
“Me either,” Marianne added. “I love you, Rose, with all my heart. And that you thought differently…” She smiled and kissed Rose on the forehead. “That is my fault. I am so sorry.”
“Tell us what happened,” her father pressed. “Maybe we can help.”
“And even if we cannot, sometimes it is nice to have someone to speak to,” Marianne added. “I doubt that we are as good as you are when it comes to fixing things, but let us try.”
“We are here for you, Rose. We will always be here.”
Rose started to cry again, and this time it was not from sadness. She was twenty-five years old, and this was the first time in her life that she had felt truly looked after. While she had never doubted that her sister and father loved her, moments like this one did well to remind her.
She did not know everything about what Christopher was hiding.
Nor did she know if she should tell her sister and father what she suspected, because if she was right, it would have untold consequences. But she needed to speak to someone, and there was no one in this world she trusted more than her sister and her father.
It was time that someone helped Rose for a change. More than that, it was time that she trusted someone to help her.
“I… I should not say,” she started, sniffing back the tears, but making sure to smile so they could see that she was feeling better. “What I am about to tell you, you cannot tell anyone. I mean it.”
“We won’t,” her sister said.
“You can trust us, Rose,” her father added.
“I know that I can…” She smiled at them both. “I know I can trust you.”