Chapter 34
thirty-four
Cameron
It’s been several days since I woke up with Rosalie in my home.
Every morning, I walk past the guest bedroom on my way to the kitchen, and I get a flashback to waking her up that morning.
The way she stretched out, body taut, eyes screwed shut, while my shirt rode up exposing a sexy sliver of her stomach. And then she moaned. Fuck.
I know she wasn’t trying to tempt me, but the way the sound was so similar to her moans from the night before, I was feral for her in an instant. If it weren’t for the girls in the living room and the pancakes on the stove, I would have taken her right then and there.
I was so worked up I couldn’t even find words to speak, and my self-control was holding on by a thread. She probably thought I’d gone crazy with the way I bolted from the room, only to return and smash my mouth to hers, but it was the only thing I could do without snapping my very thin restraint.
Thankfully, she didn’t question my odd behavior when she came to the kitchen, and I was able to regain some semblance of normalcy. That is, until Addie dropped that bomb of a question. I’m not going to lie; I was internally sweating bullets.
The relief I felt from Paige and Addison’s reaction felt like a full body sigh. It’s been difficult holding back my affection for Rosalie when the four of us are together and having that conversation out of the way and their approval makes things a whole lot easier.
My desire to touch her, hold her, and kiss her is an intense physical need when she’s around. Keeping it under control has been almost unbearable lately, especially after that night.
It wasn’t just the sex—which was fucking phenomenal—it was the way the entire evening and morning after played out.
The nighttime swim party, the girls’ sleepover, and the four of us seated at my kitchen table for pancakes the next morning.
It just felt right, like Rosalie and Paige were supposed to be in our lives. It felt like we were a family.
That thought should make me panic, but it only makes me smile as I reach for my mouse, giving it a little shake to reawaken my computer screen.
Just as I’m about to pull up the Foxgrove account my phone rings.
I quickly reach for it and answer without checking to see who it is first. Most of our clients call our business phone during the work week, so if my cell rings during the workday, I assume it’s family or something to do with Addison.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Cam, are you busy?”
The voice sounds so harried I almost don’t recognize it. In fact, I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure, and yep, it’s Elodie.
I briefly wonder what she could want as I put the phone back up to my ear.
“So, can you come get her?”
She must have been talking a mile a minute while I had the phone pulled away because I don’t understand what she means.
“I’m sorry, Elodie, I didn’t quite catch all of that. Come get who?”
All the options are running through my head and my heart starts to race just before she says her name.
“Cam, it’s Rosalie.”
My stomach clenches so hard I think I might be sick, and I can almost feel my heart trying to pump out of my chest.
“Elodie, what happened? Is she hurt?” My voice is rising, and I can hear the panic as I frantically grab for my keys, fumbling them a few times before locking my grip around them.
I’ve caught the attention of Tom, and he’s looking at me with concern as I practically spring from my chair.
“Do you need help?” he asks quietly, and I quickly shake my head no.
I just need to get to Rosalie. All the worst-case scenarios start playing through my head. Did she get kicked? Trampled? Are her injuries life-threatening? Will I lose her?
“Cameron, CAMERON,” the voice in my ear calls loudly. “She’s physically fine. She’s not hurt.”
I must have voiced my concerns out loud. My breathing starts to even out with Elodie’s reassurance Rosalie’s not in life-threatening danger.
“Then what happened?”
I’m still moving quickly to my car because Elodie wouldn’t have called me to come get Rosalie if it were something she felt she could handle. My mind races with possibilities as Elodie continues.
“She had a case today with a pregnant mare. The owner brought her in with symptoms of colic, but when she arrived, there was significant swelling in her back legs and abdomen. The mare had a rare condition, and Rosalie ended up having to scrub in on an emergency C-section to get the foal out. The mare didn’t make it. ”
Elodie is basically speaking a foreign language at this point, so I redirect her to the reason she called.
“Did something happen to Rosalie during the surgery?”
“She was able to finish the surgery, but as soon as it was over, she bolted for the bathroom. She’s been locked in there for quite a while.
When I knocked to ask if she was okay, she said she was fine…
but that was fifteen minutes ago and she still hasn’t come out.
I didn’t know what to do so I called you. ”
“Okay, thanks for calling, Elodie. I’m on my way.”
“See you soon,” she says before hanging up.
As I drive the short distance to the Equine Center, I wonder what could have happened to elicit this reaction.
There’s an unsettling feeling in my chest it has to do with her mom’s death, and my heart, now settling from the panic I felt moments ago, aches for her.
Rosalie has powered through life since her mom passed away, but I know better than anyone it only takes one moment, a blip of too much stress, for all the pent-up anguish to come pouring out.
When I arrive, I park near the hospital entrance and jog up to the office door, where Elodie is already waiting to meet me.
“Hey, Cam, thanks for coming. I don’t think anything prepares you for losing your first patient so maybe it’s just hitting Rosalie really hard. I started to get worried when she didn’t come out right away.”
“Yeah, I’m glad you called,” I say as Elodie leads me to the bathroom where Rosalie’s currently hiding out.
“Here’s the key, just in case. I didn’t feel comfortable using it, but I figured she wouldn’t mind if you did.”
I take it from her with a quick thanks before turning to knock on the door.
“Rosalie, baby, can you open the door? Elodie called me, and we’re worried about you.”
When there’s no answer, my anxiety ratchets back up, and I don’t even think. I place the key in the lock and throw the door open. What I find is heartbreaking.
Rosalie’s on the floor, curled up in the fetal position, asleep.
Her face is red and swollen, tear tracks are dried down her face.
She must have passed out from emotional exhaustion, and that’s why she didn’t leave the bathroom when Elodie asked her if she was okay.
She clearly wasn’t, and I’m guessing she was too embarrassed to admit it.
I’m immediately on my knees in front of her, gently pushing the hair back from her face, trying to wake her without startling her.
“Rosie, baby, can you wake up for me?”
Her eyes flutter open.
“Cam?”
“Yeah, baby, I’m here,” I say, placing my hand on her tear-stained cheek.
Before I can blink, Rosalie’s wrapped her arms around my waist, her head is on my lap, and she’s hysterical. Her arms are desperately tight, and I can barely make out what she’s saying through the sobs.
“I-I-I lost the mare. The baby has no-no mom. She’s going to grow up with n-n-no mom. We couldn’t s-s-save her. I-I-I couldn’t save her.”
The words she’s saying register, and I immediately understand.
Elodie’s probably right, this is the first patient Rosalie’s lost since starting her job here, but it wasn’t just any patient.
It was a mom. Rosalie’s not focused on the life she helped save today; she’s only focused on the one that was lost.
I hold her tight, my heart breaking for her, wishing my earlier thoughts were wrong.
This is one of the most complex parts of the grief process.
You never quite know when the emotions will take over.
The most minute things can trigger a memory that sends a fresh wave of sadness over you, knocking you on your ass.
Even when you think things are going well, it just takes a small breeze to extinguish the light, casting you into darkness and reminding you of what you’ve lost.
“Shh, baby, I’m so sorry,” I say, bringing a hand to stroke her hair and trying to calm her enough to get her out of here.
Elodie already said Rosalie could go home, but I know she wouldn’t want me to take her out of here in this state.
She’ll likely be embarrassed after this anyway, so there’s no need to add fuel to the fire.
“I-I lost her, Cameron. I lost her.” It’s said so quietly I almost don’t hear it, and I know this second wave of emotion has done her in and she’s heading for another crash.
“Hey, I want to get you home. Do you think you can stand and walk with me out to my car?”
She nods against my lap and takes a shaky breath before lifting up her head and standing. She looks so lost and worn down. I can’t keep myself from wrapping her in my arms and kissing the top of her head, just holding her for a few more seconds before leading her out of the bathroom.
I turn her to the right and head toward the nearest exit, catching Elodie’s eye before leaving. I offer up a small smile of gratitude and mouth a quick “thank you” before leading Rosalie out the door.
Once I have her buckled in my car, I start toward my place since it’s closer, but Rosalie shakes her head and asks to go to hers.
She’s exhausted and already starting to fall back asleep so debating whose house is best isn’t really necessary right now.
I simply want to get her somewhere she can rest.
By the time we pull up to the house, Rosalie is asleep and wakes only briefly when I pick her up to take her inside. Her body feels like lead in my arms, almost as if I can physically feel the weight of all she’s experienced today.
I walk through the house to her bedroom and lay her down softly on top of her comforter.
She’s still in scrubs from work, and I’m sure she won’t want to wake up to the reminder of what happened today.
I go in search of something more comfortable for her to nap in, finding a pair of green joggers and matching shirt on the top of her dresser.
I walk back over to the bed and pull her up into my arms. “Hey, baby, I’m going to change you out of these scrubs, okay?”
A noise comes out of her mouth, and I take it as the go-ahead to help her change. Gently, I slip her scrub top over her head and replace it with the clean shirt, then do the same with her bottoms.
Once I have her changed, I lay her back down and pull the comforter over her shoulders. Needing to figure out how to get Addison and Paige home at the end of the day, I lean down to give her a kiss on the forehead before moving toward the bedroom door.
“Please don’t leave me.” Her voice is no more than a broken whisper, and my heart clenches.
I feel the depths of Rosalie’s pain deep within my soul. The raw despair I hear in her voice is so similar to mine after losing Julianne.
It buckles my knees as I collapse at the edge of the bed in front of her curled up figure and gently place my hands on each side of her face. I infuse every ounce of love I have for this woman into my next words.
“Never. I will never leave you.”
It’s not the words, but in my heart of hearts, I know exactly what I’m saying.
When I say the other words, I want Rosalie to be in a better place, one where she can fully comprehend the depths of my feelings for her.
Until then, I’ll continue to show up for her over and over again, giving her my love in every other way imaginable.
Leaning forward, I gently kiss her lips before standing to take off my shoes, setting an alarm to wake up in time to get the girls.
Walking to the other side of the bed, I crawl in behind Rosalie and pull her body toward mine, nuzzling my nose in her hair.
It smells faintly of her floral shampoo and hay, a scent that’s purely Rosalie.
I inhale deeply through my nose, breathing in this beautiful broken woman, as my arms tighten protectively around her waist.
She reaches down and lays her hand over mine, intertwining our fingers and pulling our hands up close to her chest. She tucks them over her heart and lets out a long breath, her whole body relaxing.
I feel her heartbeat under my palm and the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing levels out and she falls asleep. I lie there, relishing the privilege of this amazing woman trusting me today in her most vulnerable moments before I, too, fall asleep.