27. Noah
TWENTY-SEVEN
NOAH
Holding the box of muffins in one hand, I rap against her door with the other, hoping Rosy will answer.
Nothing.
Just as I’m about to knock again, the door opens and a red-eyed Rosy stands there blinking up at me.
“I wanted to come and see how you are, and Bry wanted me to give you the muffins he baked earlier. Lemon drizzle.” I hold the box up, and her focus drops to it. I take a step forward into the open doorway. I know she’s not okay, and she should be able to talk about it to someone.
I hope she lets me be that someone for her.
“Let’s go make a cup of tea and have a muffin, and you can talk to me about what’s going on in your mind.”
Dropping a kiss on her forehead, I take a moment to inhale her raspberry-infused scent, then wrap an arm around her shoulders and guide us over to her kitchen area. I place the box of muffins into her hands, flick on the kettle, and go about locating mugs and tea bags.
“I’ll make the tea if you can get us some plates for the muffins? What tea are you in the mood for today? Herbal or breakfast?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. I can do that,” she replies softly, the emotion sounding heavy in her voice. “Something cinnamon, please.”
Ah, we’re going for comfort today. Locating two orange-and-cinnamon spiced tea bags, I place them each into a mug and pour in the boiled water once it’s ready; then I place them on the kitchen island and take a seat on one of the stools.
Rosy places a small plate with a muffin in front of me, then takes one for herself and sits across from me. The scent of the lemon unfurls through the air, mixing in with the spiced orange and Rosy’s raspberry scent. It’s hard not to make it too obvious with a deep inhale.
Rosy picks up the muffin and keeps her gaze fixed on it as she breaks it apart into small pieces, only to set them down on her plate rather than eat them.
The silence lingers between us, and I consider how to approach talking to her about how she’s feeling. I don’t know fully what transpired between them, only the version Max gave us. But it’s clear something is hurting her, and I want her to feel in a place where she can confide in me.
“I…you didn’t have to come over to check in on me.” Her voice is thick and gravelly, as if all her emotions are trapped in her throat, threatening to spill out. She grabs the spiced tea, taking a small sip before placing it back down.
“But I wanted to.” Reaching out, I still the hand mutilating the poor muffin. “Talk to me, Rosy? Did he say something to hurt you?”
She exhales loudly, teeth nipping at her lip.
“It’s nothing, really. He just wanted to make it clear that he didn’t want anything romantic with me and just wanted to remain friends.
That he’s not interested in me like that, and it’s okay.
I’m interested in Nate, and he seems to reciprocate that.
I’m okay. This is probably me being overly tired. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Nate.”
The words tumble from her lips. As those last ones spill free, I see the quiver in them as she sucks her abused bottom lip in and clenches down on it with her teeth.
I love Max; I do. But I wish he would pull his head out of his arse and not stay stuck in his past hurt.
Rosy is perfect for him, for us, and she’s nothing like his ex.
The couple of occasions I had met her, she was…
cold. The devastation she’d caused Max…she was uncaring about any of it.
She was only interested in moving on and forgetting their life together.
“It’s okay to not feel okay. He might not have intentionally hurt you, but people’s words and actions can still hurt unintentionally too. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. If you talk to Nate, I’m sure he’ll tell you he’s not hurt at all.”
Her eyes clench shut, tears slipping free and trailing down her cheeks. Not able to hold myself back any longer, I round the island and swing her stool to face me. Stepping in between her thighs, I wrap my arms around her and pull her face to my chest, holding her tightly against me.
As I drop my face to the top of her head, her arms come up and wrap around my lower back, squeezing me just as tightly back.
“I’ve got you.”
I place soft kisses along the crown of her head; I hope I can be the safe space for her to not be okay with. To let all her hurt out and know that she’s not alone, that I’m here to help hold her up.
Whilst we all work well as a team, and I couldn’t imagine my life without the guys, we are each responsible for our own relationships with Rosy. I can’t force or change anything, but I can be here for her and for them too.
Fuck, even Max too.
The infuriating person he is.
But I’m also suddenly very aware that she wasn’t present for our conversation the other night, and it’s our fault that none of us have spoken to her about it.
We just assumed she wouldn’t be confused and feel guilt over any potential feelings she might have.
Our inaction might’ve contributed to some of how she’s currently feeling.
At the same time, seeing her so upset over Max has some relief easing through me, underneath the current of concern.
If she can feel things for Nate and Max, perhaps there’s a chance for Bry and me too.
“Why do you think you’ve hurt Nate?” I ask softly, my words caressing her hair. It’s hard to focus on the conversation when she feels so warm and perfect in my arms. Her body slots effortlessly into mine, no knocking of limbs, awkward sliding, or crouching to make us fit.
Tension removes some of her softness as her muscles lock. Feeling the urge to soothe, my hand rubs up and down her back, following along the curve of her spine through her dress.
“There’s no judgement here, Rosy.” I keep my voice low. “Whatever’s bottled up inside, I’m here to listen and it can be completely between us. I’m just here for you.”
She snuffles quietly into my chest, then exhales, long and low. I keep stroking her back, for my own selfishness, as much as hers.
“Because I’m confused about my feelings. Not for Nate, though, definitely not,” she rushes to explain, shaking her head quickly.
“No one expects you to have all the answers or know exactly how you feel or what you want,” I reply.
“But what if it’s maybe for…other people too?”
My hand twitches against her back; I have to force myself to breathe and continue my movement. I don’t want her to misread me and close herself off.
“Your feelings?” I clarify, needing her to be clear so I don’t jump the gun and assume something.
Her hands fist tighter in the fabric along my back. “Yes. I think I have some feelings for Max. Perhaps Brynn too.”
She buries her head into my chest, almost as if she’s trying to sink into me and disappear.
“Is there space for me too?” I croak, my throat heavy with need and a vulnerability I didn’t expect.
It’s not something I’ve felt in a long while.
Compared to the others, I’ve been lucky to have spent a large part of my life full of love and support, so my insecurities feel minimal when considering theirs.
Yet, it raises its head every so often, and there’s guilt over it. My parents loved me. Wholeheartedly.
However, seeing my mum so desperately craving more children to love played on my mind in those youthful times.
As a child, I wasn’t sure why I couldn’t be enough for her.
Why she couldn’t be happy with just me and my dad.
The pain twisted and dug in deep, that longing to be the light in someone’s life.
After each loss she lived through, I was there for her endless hugs. Felt her hidden tears fall into my hair as she held me tightly. In those moments, the guilt hit hard. How could something I wanted hurt her so much? I wanted to see her full of happiness and love.
So when Bry had confessed to me at school one day that he was being put into foster care, I’d known what I needed to do for both him and my mum. Bringing him into our family healed us all in a way.
When I hit adulthood, I’d even mentioned to Dad once about my childhood worry of not being enough for one person, and the thought Mum had needed someone else to love too.
The stricken expression on his face at my confession still lingers in my mind, and I’ll never forget his words either.
“It was never about her not loving you enough. Your mum is just one of the few selfless people born into this world who are blessed with an abundance of love, and she gives it unconditionally. When we had you, it didn’t make her love me any less.
Being loved by her is one of the best things to have ever happened to me, and I’d never deprive someone of experiencing that feeling.
I could spend my whole life loving her with my entire being, and it would still be a drop in the ocean compared to her love. ”
He was right too.
I still miss them every single day, but I’m grateful for every minute I did have them in my life.
His words remind me of Rosy; even if unconventional, I could see it working for us and our family. Her loving all of us, as we love her.
“You?” Rosy’s voice rises, and she pulls back to look up at me. Brows high in disbelief, and eyes almost comically wide.
Okay, perhaps I can see it in the far, far distant future. I may need to reevaluate things if our consistent messages, buddy reading, and lingering hugs haven’t come across as subtle flirting.
“I’d like to be considered too,” I say, trying for a more direct approach rather than risk slipping into the background.
Her mouth parts, rounding around words that don’t leave her lips.
“I can see this is something we should’ve talked about with you before now, but on the weekend, we all had a discussion about each of us having feelings for you…
” I trail off, wanting to gauge her reaction before I continue.
Will she be angry that we had a conversation about her without her being there?
“All of you?” Her eyes light up at that, and internally I scold myself at the words used.
“Yes, but Max obviously spoke to you directly about it, and I’m sorry, Rosy. He’s…been hurt badly in the past, and I’m not sure when he’ll be ready to move on from it.”
Her head tilts down, and she nods, staring at my chest. “I understand. He explained that to me.”
My finger crooks under her chin and lifts, so I can stare into her teary grey eyes.
“If I could save you from the hurt, I would. All of us would. But I can promise to be here for you any time you need to talk or hug. But I meant what I said, and if you feel like you have any feelings for us, then explore that. There are no expectations, but just maybe something for you to think about.”
The arm I have wrapped around her lower back squeezes at my words, tugging her closer into my warmth.
“You know, you’re like a walking, talking Care Bear. You make me feel better,” she whispers, her cinnamon-scented breath stroking across my lips.
But it’s her wobbly, growing smile that has the breath leaving my lungs.
Her opening up to me like this, trusting me with her words, her emotions, and her thoughts has me fighting the urge to kiss the tear-stained tracks on her cheeks.
I desperately want her to know I see her. I see every vulnerable piece of her.
And it is breathtaking.
Instead, I cup her damp cheeks and place a kiss on her pink nose.
“How about a film whilst we eat as many muffins as we can?” I offer, not wanting to drag myself away from her yet.
Her answering moan has my gaze fixing back on her mouth. “Yes, definitely muffins with a film.”