Clearly, he wasn’t. Clearly this was nothing to him. He acted like she was the one who was just having a rebound and didn’t really care. But Owen was the one who’d come in like a wrecking ball, done his damage, and vanished. He’d left her completely alone.
“I’m so sorry,” Amanda said, squeezing her hand. Tears pricked Rose’s eyes. She’d tried so hard not to cry, to keep it together.
But being with her friends and seeing their sympathy made it all threaten to spill out. Once she started, she might never stop.
She blinked hard, pushing everything back down inside her where it belonged. Stay calm, Rosie, her mom used to ay. Like a boat gliding across the water. No one needs to see how hard you’re paddling.
“It’s okay,” she said with more conviction than she felt. “He wasn’t the one, and that’s fine. Fun, right?” She forced a laugh. “That’s what this was supposed to be about.”
“Sure,” Talia said, topping off her coffee. “But you know it’s okay to feel shitty. Right?”
Rose shook her head. This was not what she needed. She needed her friends to remind her this was no big deal. Unfurl a “Welcome to the Hot Fling Club” and congratulate her on moving on to the next. Set up those apps they’d threatened her with before she’d fallen into bed with Owen and lost sight of everything else.
Owen. Just thinking his name made everything in her tighten in some hot and cold, shivery and melting sort of way.
The problem wasn’t just that she’d fallen into bed with him. She’d fallen into everything.
And now she was paying the price.
She was supposed to put herself out there and have some hot fun without any of those pesky strings attached. Only this wasn’t like that at all. It felt like she was wearing her insides on her outsides. Everywhere she went, everything she did, everyone could see she was bruised and bloody and sore.
In a weird way, it was even worse than breaking off an engagement. Back when things ended with Jason, she’d been angry. But that anger was energizing. It kept her busy. She’d had to move her things, find an apartment, start a new life.
Now, she had all the time in the world to think and be with her feelings. And all she felt was sad.
She couldn’t tempt herself by imagining the new, future possibilities she had open to her. Because she’d actually started to think she’d found that future with Owen.
Only here she was, alone again and feeling like a fool. The New Rose wasn’t any better than the old.
“I shouldn’t have invited him in the first place,” she said. “It was so humiliating, I can’t even describe it. If I hadn’t made him come with me…”
Would we still be together?
“But you don’t want to feel like you can’t take your boyfriend out in public,” Jessie said with a frown. “I should know. Secret relationships are the worst.”
Talia laughed. Jessie did, too. Rose was glad the two of them could joke now about how Jessie had kept her relationship with Talia’s brother hidden until the whole thing exploded. Thankfully, it had worked out in the end, because Shawn and Jessie were perfect together. Anyone could see that. Especially Talia, who knew them both so well.
Talia had just moved in with her boyfriend, Reed, who seemed like this giant, brooding guy but was a total softy inside. He and Talia balanced each other in all the right ways. Rose loved seeing her friends happy.
She’d especially loved it when they were going to be her bridesmaids. Now that there was no wedding, no relationship, nothing for her—it was harder to remember that they, too, knew what it was like to fall asleep alone at night and how sometimes it seemed the heartache would never end.
But Rose would rather have no relationship than a bad one. Owen was wrong for her. She was better off letting him go.
Amanda was the only friend of hers still single. Maybe they should start a commune together. Adopt a dozen cats and say fuck it to everyone.
Rose sighed into her cinnamon roll. She was allergic to cats, anyway.
“It just seemed like I should have known not to mix Owen and CUBE,” she said. “I can’t have it both ways.”
“What—have a boyfriend and a job?” Talia screwed up her face. “If that’s what you’re saying, then pardon my French, but fuck no.”
“Seriously,” Jessie echoed. “You don’t have to choose.”
“I know,” Rose said. “But it’s not just any job. CUBE and a furniture maker was never going to work. I shouldn’t have tried.”
“Do you really think that has to be true?”
Rose opened her mouth. Of course it did.
But then she closed it again.
No. She couldn’t second guess herself or repaint the past in brighter colors. She and Owen had no chance.
“Were there any good parts, though?” Jessie asked. “Anything you liked? I just hate to see you so sad.”
Rose swallowed. She thought of his laughter. The way his eyes sparked and smoldered, depending on his mood. How right his hand had always felt in hers.
“Yeah,” she said hoarsely, still working on that not-crying thing. “It was perfect in so many ways.”
She expected her friends to agree that it sucked, but she had to let him go. But Talia and Jessie both shook their heads.
“Perfect is bullshit,” Talia said. “If that’s what you’re aiming for, I can save you the trouble. It’s never going to happen.”
“Yeah,” Jessie said. “You can’t expect you’re going to be perfect. So you can’t expect him to be, either. You have to figure out the parts you can live with. And the parts you can’t.”
Rose’s fingers twisted into knots in her lap. Yeah, she wasn’t perfect. Obviously.
But she couldn’t laugh Jessie away. Wasn’t there some truth to what she was saying? Rose always tried so hard to make everything right.
Which was why she couldn’t be with someone as hotheaded and uncompromising as Owen. He was too unpredictable, too unconcerned with what other people thought. Too set in his goddamn principles to lift his head and see what was going on in the real world, where everyone else had to live.
But being without him was unbearable.
She pictured the days ahead of her, extending on and on without him. Her promotion at CUBE. Moving from a cubicle into an office. Another promotion down the line. Putting out glossy, flawless ads for convenient household wares for the rest of her life. Selling that picture-perfect, catalogue existence.
And then some day, what felt like a million years from now, she’d retire. At her going away party, the advertising department at CUBE would eat sheet cake loaded with frosting and praise the work she’d done.
And then what? And then what would she want to do with whatever was left of her life?
Warm tears splashed her face. It was too late. She was crying.
It wasn’t just a life without Owen that broke her heart. It was the life she’d wind up with if she kept going down this path she was on, one day bleeding into the next until all of them were gone.
It might look good on the surface. But she knew how hollow it would feel inside.
“I’m sorry, you guys,” she said as Talia grabbed a box of tissues.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” Amanda insisted.
But she did. Not only because crying at besties brunch didn’t make for a very fun Sunday. But because she’d been so mad at Owen.
She couldn’t forget what he’d said and done. That awful feeling crawling up her insides as she’d watched everything go from bad, to worse, to the end.
But she felt terrible about it, anyway. She just felt terrible, period.
“You really liked him, didn’t you?” Jessie said, coming to sit beside her. Amanda rubbed her back as Jessie took her hand and Talia did the important work of refilling everyone’s glasses.
Rose nodded. “It fe
els so silly now.”
“It’s not silly,” Jessie said. “You’re not silly. You’re being so hard on yourself.”
“He messed up a really good thing,” Talia said. “But does this have to be the end?”
Rose wiped her eyes. She didn’t know. It had seemed so final at the time, like she didn’t have a choice. But now that her tears were flowing, all her defenses were washing away. What if it didn’t work like that?
What if nothing did?
“I’m really sorry he let you down,” Amanda said as she rubbed her back. “Talia’s right. It doesn’t have to be over. But even if it is, you get to live your life. If you want to work at CUBE, rock on. But if you don’t—you don’t have to. Get the promotion, but we’ll help you look for other jobs. Or not, I’m not pushing. I just don’t want you to feel like your choices are either Owen or Jason. Or CUBE or nothing. You’re so good at your job, and you make a great girlfriend. You have so many choices.”
“I wish that were true,” Rose said. “But it’s still not that simple.”
It wasn’t like there were a million options available to her, and if she didn’t like one, then no biggie, she’d pick another. Her friends had things they were passionate about. Jessie had always wanted to be in publishing. Talia had been dancing her whole life. Amanda was an incredible graphic designer. Sometimes, Rose felt like the deadbeat of her friend group. Everyone else was so talented and driven. They knew what they wanted, and they went for it.
Rose didn’t have anything like that. She couldn’t go after what she wanted, because she didn’t know what she wanted. CUBE was a job. She needed a job.
What she wanted wasn’t part of the equation. At this point, she just had to accept what she had.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jessie said. “You keep underestimating yourself—at work, with Owen, even in settling for Jason. But you can have more, Rose. You can have the things you want.”
“Like right now, I want more cinnamon rolls,” Amanda said, standing up to bring over the plate.
“You don’t have to make any decisions today,” Jessie said as she passed Rose another roll.
“Or ever,” Talia added, licking icing from her fingers.
“But you do have to drink Bloody Marys,” Amanda said. “Or I’ll be stuck drinking tomato juice all week, and that’s way too healthy.”
“You guys are the best,” Rose said. “Really, I mean it. You’ve put up with me through so much. First Jason, and now this. I don’t deserve it.”
“Don’t you get it?” Amanda said, shaking her head. “No one’s ‘putting up with you.’ We’re your friends. We know how amazing you are. CUBE knows it, too—that’s why they’re determined to keep you. Any guy who’s going to date you had better know it, too. We want you to be happy, Rose.”
“We’re not going to let you sell yourself short,” Talia said. “Whether you like it or not.”
Her friends all smiled. Rose tried to smile, too. She tried to at least stop crying. But their words kept echoing inside her.
We want you to be happy. You can have the things you want.
She wondered what happiness might look like for her. If there was a man out there she’d be able to share it with.
If she could ever fulfill all her dreams…once she finally figured out what they were.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Owen paced in his workshop. And paced. And paced.
He held a small wooden knob in his hands. It was for the sideboard he was working on, and he was finishing the final sanding. Sort of. It was hard to pay much attention to anything these days.
He’d finished his commission. And, even better, deposited the final check. Now he was almost done with the new commission, this time a living room set. It would come with another deposit. But no guarantees after that.
There wasn’t another commission in the works. He could keep looking on Craigslist for new furniture to fix up and sell—as long as he stayed away from beds, beautiful women, and messy breakups. But no matter what his dad said, he wondered if it would be enough. If there was one thing he’d learned from the gala—besides what an asshole he was—it was that his competition would only continue to grow.
But no matter how much pressure he was under, there was only one thing he could think about. Every waking minute, every time he closed his eyes, only one thing stayed on his mind. It wasn’t furniture or new designs.
It was long hair. Bright eyes. Leather against soft skin.
How could he have been so stupid? How could he have pushed her away? He’d felt so sure of himself at the gala. Only now, in the days and weeks that followed, as the steam cooled and lifted from his eyes, all he was left with was an emptiness inside him, a reminder of how much his stubbornness had cost.
Every time he sat on the roof and looked at the sun setting behind the Manhattan skyline, it was without Rose. When he hung out with his dad in the kitchen, it was without Rose. When he took the subway, it was never to her apartment. When he fell asleep, it was never with her in his arms.
The days felt endless. The nights were even longer. He wanted so badly to call her. Text her. Tell her he was sorry. Beg her for another chance.
He’d thought he was standing up for her. He’d wanted her to stand up for him. But how could he have put her in such an unfair position, forcing her to make an impossible choice?
He wasn’t about to start biting his tongue or turn into someone completely different. He didn’t want to be with someone who would ask that of him, either.
But he also didn’t want to be without her. It made him burn inside to think of himself as the kind of person Rose couldn’t stand to be around. Someone who let others down.
Yet every time he picked up his phone, he couldn’t follow through and call her. He didn’t know how to put any of this into words. It all felt too small, too meaningless. Any man could say he was wrong, if only the woman of his dreams would come back to him.
But who in their right mind would listen to that crap? Who would actually believe it? He couldn’t just have it be words. It had to have the actions behind it. He had to show Rose he could change.
Even if she didn’t want him anymore. Even if she didn’t say yes. She still had to know she was priceless, worth more than anything to him.
He stopped pacing and blew sawdust off the small knob in his hands. He checked it against the others, making sure it was exactly the same. Perfect. It amazed him that everything in his life could be falling apart, but his hands always knew what to do. They spoke in ways he couldn’t, saying what words couldn’t express.
He put down the knob. He had to finish the sideboard. He was so close, and the clients were expecting his call. Every second he pushed them to the back burner was time they could spend checking out other furniture. Or telling their friends that sure, the work from Crowley & Sons was nice. But it wasn’t worth the wait.
Not to mention the fact that he wouldn’t get paid until the commission was done, and he needed that check.
But the next thing he knew, he was tearing through his stacks of papers, looking for a clean sheet. Something had popped into his mind, and he needed to draw it before it slipped away. He needed to act and act fast.
Before he lost everything. For good.
…
Rose sat at a long glass table, facing a panel of suits. She folded her hands in her lap. Then rested them on the table. No, maybe they should be in her lap. She didn’t know. What was the right behavior for the first meeting announcing her official new role in the advertising department at CUBE?
No matter what she did, it felt wrong. Maybe the problem wasn’t her clothes or the uncomfortable chair. Maybe it was her. Maybe she was the one who didn’t fit in.
“Rose!” Jim walked into the room with his hand outstretched. She stood up, shook it, then felt guilty for how clammy her palm was.
“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, mortification creeping up her sternum. “Let me silence that. I didn’t realize it was on.”
She reached into her bag, crossing her fingers that she wasn’t in for a long string of texts from her friends blowing up her phone at the worst possible time. Thankfully, it didn’t make any more noise. Probably just her mom pestering her about the promotion.
She didn’t mean to look at the message. Whoever it was, she’d get back to them later.
But when she turned over her phone to switch off the ringer, she saw the bubble of text on her home screen. Her heart skidded to a stop. For a long minute, she forgot she still had to breathe. Shake more hands. Look people in the eye.
Her hands weren’t just sweating now. They were shaking. In her lap, then. Definitely in her lap to hide the tremor that had started.
People were talking. They seemed to be excited. Something about “new directions” in “advancing CUBE’s mission.”
She was supposed to smile and nod and be glad for this. For all of it. Wasn’t it, after all, what she’d chosen?
But right now, in the moment when she should have been more focused than ever, nothing but this opportunity filling her mind, all she could think about was the text she’d read. And what it might possibly mean.
Dear Rose, It’s not enough to say I’m sorry and that I miss you—even though all that is true. I know I don’t deserve another chance, but I have something for you. Can you swing by the shop after work?
She tried to harden her heart and focus on the information being thrown at her. It wasn’t like she could ask them to pause the meeting because she had exciting news. “Remember that guy who made an ass of himself and humiliated me at the company gala? He just texted!” Yeah, that would go over well.
Wrong Bed, Right Man (Accidental Love) Page 16
