Chapter 24
Alex
The evening at the bar drags on, becoming increasingly unbearable as the hours pass. Rosie and Ethan seem to exist in a world of their own, laughing at private jokes and reminiscing about shared moments that none of us can comprehend. Every interaction between them is like a dagger to my heart.
"Remember that time in Malibu?" Ethan says, smiling at Rosie. "When we spent the whole night on the beach, watching the stars?"
Rosie laughs, a sound that once filled me with joy but now only brings pain. "How could I forget? It was one of the best nights of my life."
I can't take it anymore. I stand up abruptly, startling everyone at the table.
"Alex? Everything okay?" Chris asks, concerned.
"Just fine," I reply, my voice sharp. "I just need some fresh air."
I rush out of the bar, ignoring my friends' calls. The night air isn't exactly fresh, as we're in the middle of summer in southern Italy... so it's practically a sauna rather than a breath of fresh air, but at this moment I don't miss the bar's air conditioning one bit.
The anger, jealousy, and pain I've been trying to repress all evening explode within me.
Without thinking, I head towards my pickup. I need to get away, to drive until I can't feel anything anymore.
"Alex! Wait!"
I turn to see Rosie running towards me, her expression worried.
"What is it, princess?" I spit out, my voice laden with bitterness. "Shouldn't you be inside laughing with your Mr. Perfect?”
Rosie stops, struck by my words. "Alex, what are you saying?" She looks confused. Then I see a flash of realization, and she hastily adds, "No, wait, it's not what you think..."
"No?" I say, louder than normal, completely losing control. "Then what is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you and your city boy are planning your happy future together!"
Rosie looks at me, shocked, her eyes filling with tears. "Alex, please, let me explain..."
But I'm too hurt, too angry to listen. "There's nothing to explain, Rosie. I understand perfectly. Go back to your Ethan. You don't owe me an explanation, there's nothing between us and there never will be. I was just having fun."
Without giving her a chance to respond, I jump into my pickup and peel out. The last thing I see in the rearview mirror is Rosie standing in the parking lot, tears streaming down her face.
What was I thinking? Did I seriously believe that Rosie, with her refined little bottom, would have considered me?
Damn it!
I'm a poor fool.
I drive for hours, aimlessly, trying to escape the pain that's consuming me. But no matter how far I go, I can't rid myself of the image of Rosie and Ethan together, happy and perfect.
When I finally return to the ranch at dawn, I’m exhausted and hollow. I know I’ve ruined everything, destroyed any chance I ever had with Rosie. Maybe it’s better this way, I tell myself. Better to hurt now than keep deluding myself.
Did I ever have a chance? No. She wasn’t flirting with me—just joking around or being friendly, or something else I’ll never understand.
As I step into the house, ready to retreat to my room and lick my wounds, a voice stops me.
“Alex.”
I turn to see Rosie sitting on the stairs, her eyes red and puffy. She’s been up all night, waiting for me.
We stare at each other in silence, the weight of everything said and unsaid pressing between us. I look away, unable to face her. I don’t want her pity.
“Alex, wait!”
Her voice carries urgency, but I pretend not to hear, quickening my pace.
“Alex, damn it, stop!”
Her footsteps rush toward me, and she grabs my arm, forcing me to turn. Her eyes burn with anger and pain, and I can’t bear to meet them.
“What is it, Rosie? Haven’t you said enough?”
My voice drips with sarcasm, my usual defense. “Or did you forget some detail about your glamorous life in Los Angeles and come back to fix it?”
I know the words are cruel. I know they’ll hurt her. But right now, wounded and angry, I can’t stop myself. Sarcasm is the only thing keeping me from breaking in front of her.
Rosie flinches, her eyes shimmering with fresh tears. Guilt stabs through me, but I bury it beneath my pain.
“It’s not what you think, Alex,”
she says, her voice trembling. “If you’d just let me explain…”
“Explain what?”
I snap. “How you and your perfect Ethan are meant to be together? How your life in Los Angeles is so incredible you can’t wait to go back?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth!”
she yells, frustration breaking through her calm facade. “It’s not like that!”
“Oh no?”
I retort, crossing my arms. “Then enlighten me, princess.”
Her nickname comes out like a curse. I see the hurt in her eyes, but I don’t stop.
“Ethan is just a friend, Alex,”
she says, trying to steady her voice. “There’s nothing between us.”
I laugh bitterly. “Sure. And I’m an idiot. I saw you together, Rosie. I’m not blind.”
“What you saw isn’t what you think,”
she insists, stepping closer. “If you’d just listen—”
But I don’t want to listen. I can’t. If I do, I might believe her, and I can’t let myself hope again.
“You know what? It doesn’t matter,”
I say, stepping back. “Go back to Ethan. I have work to do.”
I turn to leave, but her next words stop me cold.
“You’re an idiot, Alessandro Ricci. A jealous, stubborn idiot who can’t see what’s right in front of him.”
Her words hit me like a slap. I stare at her, stunned. She knows my full name? And damn, it sounds so good coming from her lips.
Damn it, I’m doing it again.
“Ethan has been my best friend forever,”
she says, her voice rising with emotion. “There’s never been anything between us, and there never will be. He’s not my type, and I’m definitely not his. He’s gay, Alex. And he’s engaged. He came here to support me because he knows I’m going through a tough time.”
I stand there, silent, her words crashing over me. Relief seeps in, but shame and regret follow close behind.
“A tough time?”
I manage, my voice quiet. “Why didn’t you talk to me about it?”
Rosie looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Talk to you? Why would I? We’re not exactly best friends, Alex.”
Her words sting, but I know she’s right. What do I really know about her, besides her name and that she’s from Los Angeles? I never gave her the chance to open up. I thought about it—wanted to—but I always messed it up.
“Well, I...”
I start, but my words trail off. What can I even say?
Rosie crosses her arms. “I’ve explained the situation with Ethan. I don’t owe you anything else—especially after what you said outside the bar.”
I flinch, shame prickling at the memory of my words. “You’re right. I was an idiot.”
“At least we agree on that,”
she says, a faint smile breaking through her frustration.
I attempt a grin. “What do you say we start over? Hi, I’m Alex—the cowboy who can’t keep his mouth shut. Who are you?”
She rolls her eyes but, to my surprise, her expression softens. She studies me for a moment, as if deciding whether to indulge me. Then, with a sigh that’s half exasperation, half amusement, she plays along.
“Alright, cowboy,”
she says, a spark of mischief lighting her eyes. “I’m Rosie—the city girl who apparently doesn’t know how to pick her company.”