Chapter 29 #2
“Violet…” Rose sighed and shook her head sadly.
“When are you going to learn that it is not a weakness to ask for help? You are so determined to prove that you can do it all, while you fail to understand that you do not need to. I am here, Violet. I want to help—I have always wanted to. But where I used to ask for permission, I have chosen to simply do it.” She scoffed.
“Lest you refuse me, as I know you will.”
“I…” Violet looked away with shame. “I know you only mean to help, Rose. But you know how hard it is for me to accept help from anyone.”
Rose laughed. “Oh, I know it. But for one who preaches so ardently about showing love and doing things for others because you want to help them, might it be time to recognize that this is exactly what I am doing?” Rose’s smile was soft and loving.
“I love you, Violet. And I do this not for me, but for you.”
“And I love you too,” Violet said as she tried to ignore the ache in her chest. “And this past week…” She grimaced. “I have not been that bad.”
Rose scoffed again. “You have been worse than that. As a young girl, I ignored it. But as the fine woman that I have grown into, I can no longer sit by and watch you kill yourself.”
“I might ask whom you learned to be so stubborn from…”
“But you know the answer,” Rose laughed softly. “I learned from the best, just as I learned how to look after those who truly need it.”
Have I really been so awful this week? And so obvious…
Since her father had died Violet and Rose, there were well over a dozen weeks in her life that she could point to and nominate as the worst that she had lived.
That first week after he died… the first time that she had lost her job…
when the bank had first come to their home and told them they would need to vacate…
there truly were no shortages of awful weeks.
If Violet was being honest with herself, however, she would have said without fear of exaggeration that this past one left them all for dead.
A part of that was how much she missed Lucy.
The little girl’s smile. Her laughter. The joy on her face every morning when she woke and slowly accepted where she was and that this was her new life.
It had been a joy to see her grow, and that Violet was no longer there to see it broke her heart so that it might never be whole.
The larger part of what made this week such a tragedy was Rhys.
Despite all that had happened, Violet still cared deeply for her husband.
She missed him. She missed the way he would look at her when he thought she was not watching.
She missed the way he would fight against himself when he tried so desperately to deny his feelings.
She missed watching him with Lucy. She missed how he trusted her…
how he relied on her to help that relationship develop.
Most of all, she missed the way that she felt when she was with him.
It had been hard going at first, by no means easy, but she had fought for it, stayed determined, and committed to what she knew in her heart was right.
And when she lay awake at night, her thoughts would return to their walk in the garden, when he finally accepted how he felt for her, and told her as much.
And then, always, she would close her eyes and feel his lips as they kissed for the first time.
But it was not the kiss that she missed so much as what it had symbolized.
For a moment there, she had believed that her woes were behind her and all she had to look forward to was happiness and a life that she had earned.
It had been a long and hard week, and while Violet had done all that she could to ignore the pain in her heart, she was clearly not so good at hiding her feelings.
To make matters worse, more than once, she had questioned if she was wrong and if she ought to go to Rhys and tell him how she felt—to force him to say it too! But she was stubborn—the type who would rather die alone than admit that she was wrong.
Thank God she had Rose…
“How was he?” she asked hesitantly, almost scared to hear the answer. “And Lucy?”
Rose’s smile was her answer.
“That good?” Violet found herself smiling with relief.
“You ought to have seen them, Violet,” Rose said with a dreamy expression. “I found them in the morning room together, with Lucy sitting on His Grace’s lap as he read her a book.”
‘Truly?” Violet laughed at the image, for it was that unbelievable.
“And after I picked up Lucy to cuddle her, I put her back down, and she immediately returned to him.”
“She did?” Violet’s heart swelled with satisfaction. She thought that she might have been jealous to hear such things, but the opposite was true.
I knew he had it in him to be that man. I knew it…
It had been a bad week, and there was no denying that. But that single piece of information given did much to make it all worth it. Violet had done the right thing.
“He is doing as you believed he would,” Rose continued proudly. “I was wrong to have questioned you.”
Violet shook her head. “No, you were wrong to question Rhys.”
“Which is why I told him that he needs to come and see you.”
Violet went rigid. “Excuse me? You did what?”
Rose looked at her flatly. “It is time that he did, Violet—and before you say anything else, I am not suggesting that the two of you make things work. I did not say anything about you missing him, nor did I ask if he missed you.” She raised both eyebrows at Violet.
“He has done as you wanted, and it is time that you told him the truth. He needs to know.”
Violet winced, aware that her sister was right, while dreading just how much she was.
Violet wanted to see Rhys. After the week that she’d had… just to see him, to speak to him, to confirm that they did not hate one another… She needed it like she needed air to breathe. And it was not so that they might move past all of this and try again—truly, it was not!
All Violet wanted, the only thing, was to make sure that Rhys and Lucy were happy. If she saw them both and he confirmed as much, that would be enough.
But that was not what this was about.
Violet knew something about Lucy. It was a secret that Rhys deserved to be told. And while he was sure to be thrilled, she was not so sure how he would feel about having that secret kept from him.
“He is going to be furious,” Violet said in a frightened whisper.
“Maybe not,” Rose said. “He might be happy. He might—”
“Even if he is, the fact that I did not tell him…” She exhaled, and her shoulders dropped. “He will hate me for it, and he would be right to do so.”
It was ironic in that way. Violet had kept the secret about Lucy’s origin because she wanted Rhys and Lucy to grow close naturally. And now that they had, the secret would destroy any chance that Violet had at making things right with Rhys.
Once again, she had put somebody else before herself, and where she knew it was the right thing to do, she knew too that there would be no coming back from it.
It wasn’t easy doing the right thing, and nobody knew that more than Violet. She just hoped that Rhys would understand and that maybe… if it was possible… that he would forgive her.