“Is she with that guy now?”
“Nope,” Will shook his head very confidently. “We’ve been writin’, and she swears she wants nothing to do with him, but she’s pissed at me: pissed that I up and just left her. She says she misses me something awful, and she’s not sure she can ever forgive me. I got some fightin’ to do when I get back home, and I intend on doing so. A girl like Missy Anne is worth fighting for. And from what I’ve heard you say, I think your Rose is too.” He shrugged. “Just think about it before making any rash decisions.”
Vince had thought about it. He’d thought about it a lot, and while he did agree that Rose was worth fighting for, he and Will were real different when it came to a few things. If he found out Rose had spent an entire weekend with another dude…Vince fisted his hand just thinking about it. There would’ve been a lot more than just yelling and cursing. In this case, it wasn’t just some guy her family was trying to fix her up with who she wasn’t interested in, this was her f**king boyfriend. There’d be no way, no way in hell he’d be able to handle being around that. His mind was made up. Iraq would be a cakewalk in comparison.
PART 2
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rose
Now…
Staring at the sparkling silver bracelet around her wrist, Rose sat in the waiting room of the small clinic lost in thought. For the millionth time she thought of the events leading up to Vincent’s departure. For a long time she’d been angry at herself for having let Ben hug her, knowing how angry that would make Vincent. She was certain that had something to do with Vincent going to see Anita the night she told him. Maybe he was trying to get back at her—upset her the way she’d upset him, and then something went horribly wrong.
That infamous hug—she’d replayed it so many times in her head—had it really led to all this? It had been so quick and natural, and Ben had hugged everyone. It would’ve been awkward to be the only one to balk at it, so it just felt easier to do so quickly and get it over with. Of course he’d been his same flirtatious self, asking immediately even in front of Candace if Rose was free to make out or what? As usual he’d been playing, but she still made sure to explain she absolutely wasn’t and that she and Vincent were, in fact, still very much together.
Rose hadn’t even returned any of Ben’s texts or calls for over a month after Vince had left. She couldn’t bring herself to talk to him, blaming him and everyone else for her misery. But after running into him more and more at the university, his company and friendship had ironically come as sort of a comfort. Both Candace and Alison had gone upstate to school, returning only occasionally like they had the night of the bonfire. Rose didn’t see them often, and she had no desire to make new friends, so when Ben began to buddy up with her again, especially after finding out they had a few classes together that second semester, she didn’t protest.
Ben was still the same guy he’d always been. In between all the flirting and teasing, she was reminded why she’d always been fond of him in high school. It wasn’t just because he was so good looking and he’d done wonders to her ego by flirting so outrageously with her, but because he was actually a really sweet guy. As much as she’d tried to keep what she told him about Vincent to a minimum, she’d finally broken down and cried like a baby, telling him about the whole thing.
As obnoxious as he could be, sometimes he could also be very serious when she needed him to be. He’d been extremely sympathetic and encouraged her to read Vincent’s letters. She’d read the first few where he didn’t bother to explain what had compelled him to do such a thing: something so damning after he’d promised her time and time again that he’d changed his ways and that he’d done so for her. Only in one of the first letters had he even addressed the subject of Anita.
I need you to know there is NOTHING going on between me and Anita. You’ve always been and continue to be the only one for me. Please believe that.
She did believe that much. This wasn’t even about that. Even when Grace first mentioned that he’d been in her room and she’d called him her boyfriend, Rose knew it couldn’t be true. She couldn’t explain it, but something in her heart told her just like she’d never do that to him, he’d never do that to her either. But what really made her break down was when she read “four years.”
She knew it would be a while before he came back but four years? It was devastating. The second letter wasn’t any better. He was sorry, and he’d make it up to her—again no explanation as to why. More time passed, and with every letter she received that said nothing more than he was sorry again and again, she wanted to scream, “Why?” How could he be so stupid? And why didn’t he fight harder to try and stay? He’d just given into it. There must’ve been something he was very guilty of if he agreed to leave so easily. He knew how upsetting just being away from him for a month had been for her, and he did nothing to try to stop this from happening. All he said was that he couldn’t…because of Anita.
As the months passed, she stopped reading the letters. It actually hurt each time a new one came, opening up all the old wounds she wanted so desperately to heal. She didn’t even bother opening them, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw them away so she stashed them in her bottom drawer—still sealed. She’d never once considered writing back. What would she say? “Okay…you’re sorry. Now what? I’m supposed to just forgive, forget, and wait four impossibly long years to be with you again?” Even then, how would she have any guarantees that he wouldn’t fall into the temptation of his old self again? The very thought obliterated her heart and at the same time made her so angry she couldn’t bring herself to read even one more word from him.