Chapter 30
Thirty
I survive an entire thirty-five minutes of eating and small talk with Robert Pattinson. I don’t even hit him. I’d very much like to hit him. There is a stabbing pain in my leg that reminds me that while he very much deserves to be hit, Rosalie wouldn’t like that.
I’m certain I’ll have to endure at the very least another thirty-five when Rosalie says, “It’s time to go. Zev has to get up early… To bank. Because he banks. And right after he banks, he… soccers. Busy. Busy.” She swallows. “Right, sweetheart?”
There’s no way I’m going to argue with getting out of here. “Right.” I glance over at Margo, who weaved her own unhappy marriage, and then to Robert, who never deserved my Rosalie. I nod. “Let’s never do this again.”
But Robert doesn’t seem to notice what I’ve said. He simply looks at my girl. “I’ll text you. I’m glad we could catch up,” he says to Rosalie—in front of me, in front of his wife. This guy.
I slap a hand to the table and stand, my leg killing me. “You will not text her. There will be no more catching up. Got it? You’ve got a wife, and by the grace of the Almighty, it isn’t Rose.”
Robert chuckles to himself. “One beer and Zev is entertaining.”
“Here,” I say, handing Rosalie my keys. “You drive.”
She wraps her fingers around my Audi fob, her eyes darting from me to Robert and back.
“One beer and Zev can’t drive home?” Another snicker spouts from Robert’s mouth. “Lightweight.”
My body tenses. I’ve made it an entire meal without pummeling Robert Pattinson. But I’m not sure I can make it a minute more.
Rosalie’s hand wraps around my forearm like she used to, like maybe she’s read my mind. “Let’s go, Zev. I want to go.”
I grind my teeth and nod, ready to escape.
She keeps her hand linked in mine all the way out to the car.
She unlocks the door with my fob, but I’ve followed her to the driver’s side.
I open the door, letting her in, and walk around to the passenger side.
For the record, I’m fine. But I rarely consume alcohol, and when it comes to Rosalie, I’m overly cautious.
I open the door and Rosalie’s talking. For a second, I think she’s taken a call.
“I didn’t know. I didn’t realize.” She shakes her head and mumbles.
I find her phone in the cupholder of my middle console. It’s black. She’s talking to herself. I settle into my seat and buckle up. “Are you okay? Do you need me to drive?”
“I’m okay. I’m—” She searches the dash of my car. “I’m fine. Where are we going?”
“Did you want to do something else?”
“No. Not really. That was exhausting. Maybe we could just talk.”
I nod, taking her in. She has no idea how good that sounds. It’s like a reward after the longest forty minutes of my life. “My apartment isn’t too far away. If you’re okay with that. You can leave whenever you want. We can meet up tomorrow so I can get my car back.”
I wait for her to reject the idea. But she simply nods. “Okay.”
“Do you remember where to go?” While she hasn’t been in my place since before the accident, we did spend time on the roof less than a week ago.
“Yeah.” She puts the car in reverse, and then her chatter starts up again. “He was flirting with me. He winked at me. He’s married.”
“Did you expect him to be different, Rose? He asked you out.”
“He asked us out. Double date. I…I don’t know what I expected. Maybe to see him with someone else. And maybe that would break my heart, but at least it would push me in the direction of moving on. He cheated on me. You know?”
I swallow. I do know. But I can’t say that. The way she says it sounds like she’s hearing it for the first time, though I know Fran’s told her. I don’t think her revelation in this moment needs me to contribute.
Her face is flushed and her breaths come quick. “I was in denial. I never thought Robert capable of being so…”
“Sleazy? Scummy? Dirt-baggish?” I provide, knowing I should just keep my mouth shut.
“Yes.” She turns right, smacking her hand on the steering wheel.
“All those things. I—I couldn’t see it before.
But he is all of those things.” She flattens one hand to her stomach, keeping the other on the wheel.
“He talked down about his wife’s career—my career.
” She throws a glance my way. “I am an elementary teacher, Zev. Did I ever tell you?”
“Ah, you mentioned teaching. But you said secondary.”
“Yeah, well, it’s a thing.” Her cheeks are rosy with her rant. “I just can’t believe that was Robert.” She pulls in a breath through her nose, long and deep. “He—” She blows the breath out. “He was awful.”
“He was,” I agree, deciding I’m allowed to say so now.
She pulls into the parking lot of my Red Tails apartment building. She parks and leans her head against the seat, a long sigh falling from her lips. “Maybe I should take up drinking.”
I breathe out a laugh. “Nah. Let’s go inside, talk a minute, and hopefully you’ll feel better.”
We pass Wade and Tru on our way inside. They both do a double take with Rosalie at my side, walking into our Red Tails apartment building. There’s a reason we took the stairwell on the Fourth. So many Red Tails.
Thankfully, she’s too worked up to notice their stares. “I don’t know how to feel better. He’s so much worse than I ever thought possible, Zev.”
“Is he? You said he cheated on you.”
She presses her lips together, thinking. “I know. I just—I hoped I was wrong. I was hoping he was the Robert I remembered from before.”
We step into an empty elevator, and I hit the second floor. “I think that says more about you than him. You’re a good person, Rose.”
“Or a really, really na?ve person.” She sighs, leaning against the wall of the elevator.
“Hoping for the best isn’t na?ve.” The sliding doors open and I peek out, scanning the hallway for Red Tails.
When it’s clear, I step out, Rosalie following after me.
My apartment, 201, is just to the left of the elevator doors.
“You’ve got my keys.” I point to her clenched fist. She hands them over and I unlock the door.
I push it open and hold it for her—in the clear. Whew. Rosalie moves by me, her sweet rosewater scent wafting past me. “Take a seat,” I say.
“Thanks.” Then the girl of my dreams wanders into my apartment with brand new eyes, as if she’s never seen it before. “Nice chair,” she says, which is exactly what she said the first time she walked into this room and saw my black-and-white cow-printed wingback chair.
Directly after she commented on my chair all those months ago, she also commented on—
“Zev. Your library.”
Ah. There it is. Same awe. Same sweet tone. It’s like I’m reliving a sweet, memorable moment of my life.
She crouches next to my low, long bookshelf that covers the entire length of the wall in my living room. It’s filled with books piled on top of the shelf, too.
“This is—”
“Extensive?” I say, using her word from so long ago.
“And impressive. Bronte, King, even—” She laughs. “You weren’t lying. You really have read Addison Adams.”
I lift one shoulder. “I told you.” I walk over to my small open kitchen. “Can I get you anything?”
“Ugh.” Rosalie plops into my wingback chair, or Bessie as I like to call her, one of my books in her lap. “Do you have any chocolate?”
I pull a bag of chocolate-covered cinnamon bears from my cupboard. I’ve kept them on hand since meeting Rosalie. They are her favorite. I set the giant-sized bag on the book in her lap, and she blinks her eyes open.
A small gasp escapes her lips. “More cinnamon bears? You have a problem. One that I completely approve of.”
I pause for a second before grabbing her a soda. And my girl doesn’t disappoint. She rips open the oversized bag with her teeth. I chuckle behind her, my eyes unexpectedly watering up.
“I know,” she says, her focus still on the bag. She’s in, and she’s ready to sacrifice her first bear. “It’s terrible for my teeth. But it’s the best way to open these big bags. You’re so smart to buy the family size.”
I sniff. “Yeah, well, you never know when a chocolate cinnamon bear will come in handy.”
“That’s what I always say. Every single time Fran would come home from a bad date, I’d bust out the cinnamon bears.” She bites off the first bear’s head, then glances back at me. “Fran and I have consumed a lot of cinnamon bears over the years.”
I smirk. “I bet. Your friend is married now, right?” Every time I ask her a question she knows the answer to, I feel dishonest. But I’m doing what she wants. I won’t disclose her past unless she brings it up first.
“She is.” Rosalie sighs. And I know that sigh. It’s sad.
I set a drink on the table in front of her and take a seat on the couch. “You don’t like him?”
“He’s fine. I guess. I don’t know him all that well. But get this. He’s the soccer guy. One of those Red Hawks.” Her brows narrow at the incorrect title of my team. “Red something—you know, the professional soccer team in town? The one I told Robert you played for.”
“Sure. The Red Tails—”
“That’s it!” she says, her fist plunging back into the bag for another bear. “He plays for that team. Isn’t that crazy?” She hums out a laugh before devouring another cinnamon bear.
“Yep. Crazy.” She rests her head against the back of my chair, a low hum escaping her lips. She chews and thinks, and I let her. It’s been an overwhelming night.
I sip from my drink, not at all bothered by the silence. Until—
“I feel like an idiot, Zev.”
I rest my hand on her knee, wishing I could wrap her up and hug her tight. I know my girl. She needs a tight, long hug about now. “You aren’t an idiot,” I say.
“You don’t even know Robert, and you knew he’d changed.” Her brows lower. “Or hadn’t changed. I’m not sure which. The point is, you knew he was bad news.”
This is so much more complicated. If she’d just tell me about her condition—but then that would bring in the questions and reality she’s trying so hard to avoid.
“He did some awful things. More than just the cheating,” she says, explaining to me what I’m pretty sure I know and understand better than her at the moment.
“But I couldn’t believe in my heart that that was really him.
” She peers at the bear pinched between her fingers, chocolate melting onto her thumb and pointer. “Not until tonight.”
“Now you believe?”
“How can I not? He literally flirted with me in front of his wife.”
“I noticed.”
“When you went to the bathroom, I’m pretty sure he spilled that salsa on you on purpose now—”
I grimace. “Oh, he definitely did.”
“He asked me out, Zev.” She shakes her head.
“He is a married man, and he asked me out while on a date with his wife. I made up excuses for him before. But this time, I can’t.
I’m just—” She huffs out a breath. “I’m disgusted.
And saddened. And—” She shakes her head.
"I think I am officially and irrevocably over Robert Pattinson. Fran was right. Grammy was right. You were right. I was missing someone who doesn’t exist.” Rosalie groans and slinks farther into my chair.
“I was so, so wrong. Well, me and Robert, of course. He was wrong, too—but for totally different reasons.” She slaps a hand over her eyes.
My skin itches to touch her again. “I wish the world were more like you, Rosalie. I wish they’d see and hope for the good and be willing to forgive.”
She drops her hand from over her eyes and gives me a crooked half smile. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
“That’s what the bears are for. I’m just telling my very good friend the truth.”
She nods. “You are a good friend, Zev. Thank you.” She sighs and her gaze drops to her lap. “I should go.”
But I don’t want her to go. I want her to stay. Forever. I want her to tell me one more time that she is irrevocably over Robert Pattinson.
“Do you work in the morning?” she asks. “When should I bring by your car?”
“Early. But I can get a ride with my neighbor. Keep it until the afternoon. Then pick me up for dinner?”
Her brows lift. “Greasy burgers with loads of French fries?”
“Whatever you want.”
She reaches out a hand, resting it on my forearm. “You are so accommodating, Zevulun Hayes.”
I smirk. “Happy to help.”
She stands but looks longingly at the family-sized bag of bears. “I need one more,” she says, reaching her hand into the bag.
“Take the bag.” I stand, too. If she’s ready to go, I won’t be able to talk her into staying.
“You sure?” She hugs it to her chest.
“Yeah,” I say through a breathy laugh. “You need it more than I do.”
I walk her to the door and watch her walk away, taking my heart with her.