12. Rosie
12
ROSIE
I burrow into my sweater, seeking even a modicum of warmth. Though even if the waiting room was warm, it probably wouldn’t matter. Ice has been coursing through my veins since the moment Daire’s dad dropped to the floor.
Across from me, Daire paces from one side of the room to the other. Asher and Hudson, the two eldest Hendricks brothers, are speaking in hushed voices in the corner. Asher’s wife, Veda, went to find coffee a while ago and hasn’t returned. Cash sits beside me, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair while Roman flirts with one of the nurses at the station to our left.
“This is all my fault,” I whisper.
Cash stops drumming and cocks his head. “Your fault?”
Blinking back tears, I peer up at him. “Daire told him we got married, and then he just collapsed. So yeah, this is my fault.”
He shakes his head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen his usually golden skin so pale. As I frantically called 911, the boys appeared, one by one. The house is enormous, but apparently my panicked scream carried far.
Cash shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Dad hasn’t been taking the greatest care of himself. He’s healthy enough, or so I thought, but he avoids going to the doctor like he thinks they’re going to lock him away. God only knows what’s going on inside his body.”
With my lip caught between my teeth, I wrap my arms tighter around myself. “I can’t help it. I feel guilty.”
“Rosie.” He says my name softly, pulling me into an awkward hug with the arms of the chairs between us.
There’s a growl nearby, like an annoyed dog. “Stop touching my wife, Cash.”
Huffing, I roll my eyes at my so-called husband. “Stop being a dick. How about that?”
Daire pinches the bridge of his nose. “Excuse me for not liking the way my brother is pawing all over you.”
“Territorial much?” I fire back, sitting up straight. “It was a hug.”
Every eye in the room is fixed on us. Shit. We’re in a hospital waiting room while his dad is being seen for a possible heart attack. Arguing is the last thing we should be doing. But I can’t seem to help it. He brings out the worst in me.
Veda returns then, wearing a cream-colored sweater. She’s pushed the sleeves up to her elbows, revealing the floral sleeve tattoo on her right arm.
She scans the room, bracelets jangling on her wrists. “I feel like I missed something.”
Asher doesn’t stop talking to Hudson, despite the way she’s focused on him.
“My little brother is feeling a bit… challenged, which I find extremely interesting. What do you have to be insecure about?” Cash taunts Daire. “You’re married.”
Veda’s eyes flash between me and the two brothers. Snickering, she raises the cup of coffee to her lips. “Oh, this is fun.”
Before I can delve into what she means by that, my parents and my sister step through the sliding doors at the front of the building.
I stand up, leaving both annoying brothers behind me. “Mom!” I rush into my mother’s arms. Though I called them soon after we arrived at the hospital to tell them what happened, I conveniently left out the part about being married.
She takes my face in her hands the way she used to when I was a child. “What happened?”
“He just collapsed,” I explain. “It happened out of nowhere.”
“Do you know anything yet?” my dad asks, scanning our surroundings like he’s ready to take charge.
“No, nothing yet.”
He disappears without another word, probably to go in search of hospital staff he can berate information out of.
“Hi, Rosie.” Grace waves. The sound of her voice and her proximity alone bring my anxiety down to a manageable place.
“Gracie!” I all but tackle her in a hug, unable to keep from smiling. I’ve missed her so much. I force her to FaceTime me at least once a week, and it’s still not enough.
“You’re squeezing me too tight,” she accuses.
I let her go, but not before planting a big, smacking kiss on her cheek.
“Ew.” She wipes it away with the back of her hand. “You’re gross.”
“I’m going to check on the boys,” my mom says, giving my hand a squeeze in passing.
She strides straight over to Daire and grasps his face, like she did mine, and then gives his cheek a pat. While she speaks to him, Daire locks eyes with me, like he could sense me watching.
“He’s staring at you,” Grace points out from my side.
I turn away first and sling my arm around my baby sister’s shoulders. “I’ve missed you, you know.”
She rolls her eyes. “Duh. I’m amazing. I’d miss me too.”
I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. Only Grace.
When I look back toward the waiting room, my mom’s moved on to Cash, and Daire is standing with his arms crossed, surveying the space.
“I need to talk to him,” I tell Grace.
She throws out an arm toward him. “Be my guest. I’m not holding you hostage.”
Now’s not the time to be laughing, but Grace has the most innate ability to lift my spirits. I can’t help but giggle. She’s so sarcastic, just like our dad.
As I approach Daire, I nod toward the hallway, silently asking him to follow me. I expect him to refuse, but he dips his chin in return. And with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shuffles out behind me.
I wait until we’re a good distance away and tucked safely behind a vending machine before I speak. “We’re going to have to tell my parents. Like now. Better for them to find out from us than your dad when he wakes up. Or your brothers.”
Daire blinks at me, crossing those massive arms over his chest. The guy really is like a brick wall. Completely impenetrable.
“If he wakes up.”
“Huh?” I voice, not catching up.
“If he wakes up,” he grits out, wearing a glower that almost masks the fear in his eyes. “He had a heart attack, Rosie. That’s not some minor thing?—”
“They said it was a mild heart attack,” I point out, but the assurance does nothing to ease the expression.
“I’ve already lost one parent,” he reminds me, toeing his shoe against the stark white linoleum floor. “Excuse me for being realistic. Not everything is about you.”
I lower my head and breathe through the ache in my chest. “I’m not trying to make this about me.” It’s like a knife to the heart that he’d even think that.
“Are you sure about that?” he retorts. “This is what your mother has always wanted for you, right? Marrying a Hendricks? I bet you can’t wait to tell her that you succeeded.”
His words hit me like bullets, one right after the other. I stagger back, shocked by the vitriol he’s spewing.
Instantly, he grimaces, the look one of regret. But it’s too late for that. The words, the accusation, it’s all out there now.
“I know you’re upset right now, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole.”
He looks away, jaw pulsing. I’m not expecting an apology. Hell would surely have to freeze over for that.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I look up and down the hall and sigh. “I’ll tell them myself.”
I shimmy out of the corner, doing my best not to brush up against him as he stands as still as a statue. I’m halfway down the hall when he wraps a hand around my elbow and spins me around.
“What?” I ask softly. I don’t have any fight left in me. Not with how today has gone.
“I…” He swallows, his throat working, and his eyes dart away for a moment before he forces them back to meet mine. “I’ll tell them with you. You’re not the one who got us into this.”
I give a tiny nod, holding his gaze. Maybe there is hope for us. Maybe it’s possible we can work as a team. “All right, come on, then.”
My parents are both seated in the waiting room when we return.
“No updates yet,” my dad says before either of us can speak. “I tried to get information, but…” He throws his hands up in annoyance. “Nothing.”
“Mom? Dad? Can we talk to you for a second?”
My mom hops up, instantly alert. Her hair is styled perfectly, as always. It’s the same dark, almost-black shade of hair as mine. Her eyes are identical to mine too. I get my height from her as well, though she comes in at a solid six-foot when she’s not wearing heels. Even though she no longer models, she’s still waifish. It hurts to see that she clings so firmly to the habits she created all those years ago. The modeling industry did a number on her.
My dad groans as he gets out of the chair, grumbling about his back.
With a deep breath in and a hand to my stomach, I start back down the hall, away from Daire’s snickering brothers. Clearly, based on the looks and whispers, they know what’s about to come.
“I’m coming too!” Gracie hollers, hurrying to catch up.
I stop in front of the vending machine we were just hiding behind and turn to face my parents. I’m still wearing my ring, and in the chaos of their arrival, they haven’t noticed it yet. I find my thumb absentmindedly spinning it around and around as I collect my thoughts.
“I want to preface this by saying I’m sorry, and it wasn’t planned.”
Both my mom and my dad narrow their eyes on me, then on Daire, and in unison, they go ashen.
“Oh my God.” My mother gasps and brings a shaky hand to her mouth. “You’re pregnant.”
My dad wags a finger in front of Daire’s face. “Did you knock up my daughter?”
“Why does everyone think I’m pregnant today? Jeesh,” I blurt out, throwing my hands in the air. “Daire and I got married.”
Boom.
Done.
It’s there.
Out in the open.
In the aftermath of my confession, my family goes silent. As they gape at us, muffled conversations from the waiting room float on the air amid the incessant beeping of machines.
Grace is the first to break the silence.
“You can’t be married.” She stomps her foot. “You always said I could be your flower girl, and your maid of honor, and?—”
“I know, Gracie.” I reach for my sister. The tears in her eyes are like a knife to the stomach. Holding back my own tears, I squeeze her tight. “That’s why we’re going to have a real wedding. I want you to be all the things you want to be.”
She sniffles, burying her face in my neck. “It won’t be the same.”
“I promise it’ll be better than you think.” I rub my hands up and down her arms, desperate to give her some sort of comfort.
“I don’t believe you.” Her bottom lip trembles as she steps back, cracking my heart right in two.
Beside me, Daire finally speaks. “It’s my fault, Grace. I…” He steps forward, putting his hand on the curve of my waist.
I shiver at his touch, hoping like hell he thinks it’s from the cold air pumping through the hospital.
“I just love your sister so much.” His eyes meet mine briefly before focusing back on my sister. “I couldn’t wait to be married to her. I begged her to do it now. But she’s right. We’re going to have a big wedding eventually. I promise.”
She sniffles. “You pinky promise like before?”
Like before? My stomach tumbles at those words.
He nods, holding out his pinky. “I pinky promise.”
“No takebacks.”
“None.”
Finally, she wraps her little finger around his.
When they let go, I elbow Daire in the side. “What does she mean by before?”
“We used to pinky promise all the time when I was little,” she informs me happily.
He shrugs. “Who wouldn’t pinky promise Grace? She’s the best.”
He has me there.
“How did this happen?” My mom asks, running her fingers through her hair. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled.” She gives Daire a bright smile. “I always hoped you’d be a part of our family. But I thought you weren’t on speaking terms anymore.”
Daire and I exchange a look as my stomach sinks.
“We reconnected at the beginning of the year.” The lie escapes me far too easily. “We started chatting and realized that maybe that hate was more like…” I clear my throat. “More like love.” I almost gag over the word. “We knew right away that we never wanted to be apart. And like Daire said, he just loves me so much.” I pinch his cheek a little harder than necessary. “I mean, who in their right mind could resist me?” I’m laying it on too thick, but I can’t help myself. “So he proposed, and I said yes, and we got married the next day. The end.”
My dad laughs, the sound far too loud for the quiet hospital, and there’s not one ounce of humor in it. “You didn’t think to ask her father for permission first? I’m an old-fashioned man.”
“Chandler—”
My father holds up a hand. “That’s Mr. Thomas to you.”
I have to cover my face with my hand to hide my amusement, trying to appear hurt instead. Daire’s always called my dad by his first name, so for him to suddenly demand the mister status, he must be pissed.
“You better not be snickering, Rosemary.”
I cringe.
Not the whole first name.
Sobering, I say, “Definitely not, Dad.”
“Liar,” Daire whispers in my ear.
I pinch his side.
“Oh my God,” my mom blanches, “is this why your dad had a heart attack?”
My face flames, and Daire lowers his head, kicking at the linoleum floor. “Unfortunately so, Mrs. Thomas.”
“Oh, dear.” She pats his cheek. “It’s Lydia. It always has been.”
My dad glowers at her for playing good cop.
“Remember, Dad,” I say, because apparently I have a death wish, “we’re adults. We made this decision together.”
“The wedding is going to be beautiful,” my mom says, clasping her hands in front of her chest and swooning. I have no doubt that she’s already designing the whole thing in her mind.
Now that she doesn’t think I’m pregnant, she’s thrilled.
“Lydia,” my dad snaps.
“I’m thinking white roses… or maybe peonies.”
She wanders away from us, tugging her phone out of her purse.
“She’s going to be calling you for your tux measurements soon,” I mutter to Daire.
One side of his mouth quirks up. “I’ll be waiting for the call.”
My dad shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. “I need you two to be serious for a moment.”
“Can I go now?” Gracie interrupts.
With a sigh, Dad points to the waiting area. “Yes, go sit down. I’ll be back in a minute, sweetie.”
“Bye.” She gives us a big smile and waves before all but skipping down the hall.
When she’s out of earshot, my dad inhales, then lets it out in one big rush. “Did you two even think to have a prenup drawn up?”
My blood freezes in my veins. My whole life, my parents have drilled into me the importance of a prenup. With the inheritance I stand to gain, it’s logical. Expected. The same is surely true of Daire with his father.
“Um… I know you don’t want to hear this,” I say, cringing, “but no.”
“Unbelievable.” Hands on his hips, he lowers his head and paces a few steps away. “I’m calling my lawyer. Maybe we can get this annulled.”
“Sir—” Daire’s voice is strained, laced with panic.
“But Daddy, I love him!” I pull my best Ariel impression, hoping to add some levity to the situation, to turn this conversation around. I hate conflict more than almost anything. Daire’s the only person who seems to bring out my combative side.
My dad blinks back at me.
Daire covers his mouth with his hand to hide a snicker.
“I’m not annulling the marriage,” I say, lifting my chin and pulling my shoulders back. “Daire is my husband. We love each other.” I look over at him, the lie thick on my tongue. “We’re adults, and we made this decision together. Surely you can respect that.”
Silently, I take a single step closer, begging him to understand. Hoping he sees that I’m just a girl in love and all the things he’s worried about are silly. We both come from money; a prenup would hardly make a difference.
If I give in to what he’s demanding and sign annulment papers—not that I think it could even be annulled—then all of this would have been for nothing, and despite myself, I want to help Daire with his custody situation. That probably makes me insanely stupid. I literally have the perfect out in front of me, and I’m turning it down.
“You’re being ridiculous,” my dad bites out. “The two of you clearly didn’t think this through.” He shakes his head. “I’m so disappointed in you, Rosie.”
It’s the worst thing he could’ve said to me. My whole life, I’ve gone out of my way to please my parents, and this feels like a sharp slap to the face.
Daire studies my face, his eyes wide with sympathy, like he can see just how much my dad’s words hurt me.
“Hey.” Daire jumps to my defense, putting his body in front of mine. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
My dad’s face turns such a garish shade of red, I worry we might have another heart attack on our hands.
“You were almost like a son to me at one point, but you are not family, and you can’t talk to me like that!” My dad’s voice echoes down the quiet hallway.
Wincing, I peek over my shoulder, hoping we haven’t garnered an audience. Unfortunately, all four of Daire’s brothers are watching from the waiting room.
“You two are too young for this. Smarter than it too. Marriage isn’t something you jump into on a whim.”
Daire clears his throat. “Technically, sir, I am family. I’m your son-in-law.” He speaks each word slowly, with inflection.
Fuck me, does the guy have a death wish?
I grip his arm. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
My dad shakes his head, and with a huff, he walks away, not toward the waiting room but in the direction of the exit.
His silence is worse than his anger.
A lump lodges thickly in my throat.
“Rosie—” Daire steps in close, holding his arms out in an offer of comfort.
I shake my head, shrugging him off.
This isn’t real.
He doesn’t actually want to touch me, and I can’t stomach the idea of accepting false affections from my fake-husband in a moment like this. I head back to the waiting room and park my butt in the seat beside Cash I claimed earlier.
“I’m sorry,” Cash says softly, tilting closer.
I give a tiny nod of acknowledgment. He shouldn’t have to worry about me. His dad is the one we should all be focused on.
While we wait for news about his dad, it’s pretty damn clear that mine just might hate me.