115. Rosalyn

ONE HUNDRED FIFTEEN

ROSALYN

With the AC blasting, I triple-check that my van doors are locked, then I twist in my seat and face the carrier in the passenger seat.

"I'll let you out, but you have to promise to go back in when we get to your building," I tell Charles through the holes in the side of the box.

I don't know what the rules are regarding guests at Nathan's building, but probably best if I don't draw a whole bunch of attention to myself.

Such as rushing off the elevator this morning and almost barreling someone over while crying hysterically with a cat in my arms.

I drop my head back against the headrest, remembering that they called Nathan.

He's not going to be happy.

I picture his handsome face.

Hear his gentle voice in my mind.

And remind myself that he won't yell at me.

He's not the type to scream when he's mad.

He won't hit me. Or hurt me.

I fill my lungs.

He won't do any of those awful things. But he'll still be upset .

I could've killed Charles.

Charles meows.

"Sorry, little man." I wipe the back of my hand across my cheek, then unlatch the top of the box and pull the sides apart.

Charles pops his head out of the box but doesn't jump out.

"Do you want to stay in there?" I reach out tentatively. Slowly.

Charles looks at me out of the corner of his eye, but when my fingers brush the top of his head, he leans into my touch.

His purr is so loud. So content. I break out into tears all over again.

Part of me expected him to hate me. But Charles is too good for that. Too magnanimous.

I reach into the box and haul him out and onto my lap.

"You're such a good boy." I hiccup into his fur. "The best boy. I love you so much."

He just keeps purring.

And I hug him tighter.

Then my phone vibrates with an incoming call.

"What if we run away?" I whisper against Charles, knowing who must be calling.

He meows again.

He gets it.

Resigned, I pull my phone out of my pocket.

I slide my tongue across my lower lip, my mouth feeling suddenly dry.

It's a video call.

I don't want to answer.

But I've spent so much of my existence doing things I don't want to do that I'm used to it.

I take another breath, then accept the call.

As it connects, I angle the camera so it's on Charles, showing he's okay.

"Aw, hey, bud." Nathan greets his cat with a kind tone.

Charles stretches his neck, releasing an extra loud purr.

Nathan chuckles. "Did you enjoy your field trip today?"

I keep my face out of view.

"You gave our Rosie quite the scare, huh? "

Our Rosie.

I sniff.

"My poor baby."

I peek over Charles's head at the phone and see Nathan's handsome face filling the screen.

But he's not looking at Charles; he's looking at me.

"I'm so sorry." I nearly choke on the words.

"Rosie—"

"I wasn't thinking. And I endangered Charles. And I-I." I suck in a jagged breath. "I'm so sorry, Nathan." I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face into Charles's back.

"Rosie." Nathan's voice is so soothing that it makes the tears come faster.

I know how much he loves this cat.

And I know he'll be nice about it if he asks me to leave.

But nice is somehow making it all worse.

I lift my head and force myself to face the consequences.

"Are you okay?" Nathan's question is quiet.

And I… I don't understand it.

"Me?" I mostly mouth the word.

He nods. "I should've warned you that he sometimes scarfs his food too fast and… does what he did. I'm sorry he scared you. And even if he got into the chicken, he'll be fine."

I stare at him. This boyfriend of mine. I don't deserve him.

"You're not—You don't want me to leave?"

Nathan's brows furrow. "What?"

I curl my fingers into Charles's fur. "I'd understand if?—"

"No." He shakes his head. "No, Rosie, I don't want you to…" Nathan presses his lips together.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, not sure what I'm apologizing for this time but feeling the need to do it.

"Rosie. Listen to me. Okay?"

I bite my lip and nod.

Nathan takes a big breath. "I need you to really hear me when I tell you that I don't want you to leave. Charles doesn't want you to leave. You've done nothing wrong. The chicken was an accident, and it sounds like he didn't even have any. But even if he did, it was an accident. And you…" He shakes his head again. "You carried my cat in your damn arms straight to the emergency clinic."

On cue, Charles stretches his neck up and licks my cheek.

Nathan's smile is so soft. "Neither one of us wants you to leave, Rosie. And if we have our way, you'll never go."

I watch his features. He seems serious.

"You're not mad?" I have to ask. Need to make sure.

He shakes his head slowly this time. "I'm not mad, Rosie. Not a bit. Not at all. I'm grateful for how you handled it."

I watch him. Watch for clues that he's lying. But he doesn't seem to be.

"How's your ankle?" He looks at me knowingly. "I know there's no way you'd be able to carry him and use your crutches. So tell me, Pretty Rosie, how is your ankle?"

This man.

This fucking man is better than any hope I've ever had.

I rub my palm over my cheeks and answer him honestly. "It hurts."

"My poor girl." He gives me a sad smile.

Before he can say more, a loud, unmistakable rumble sounds through the phone.

My eyes widen.

My mouth opens.

And a laugh comes out.