140. Rosalyn

ONE HUNDRED FORTY

ROSALYN

I switch tabs on my laptop, looking between my bank account, a list of rental apartments outside of Chicago, and another list of places in northern Minnesota.

If I stay in Minnesota, I'll be able to keep my business licensing stuff the same. But if I stay in Minnesota, I'm easy to find.

Different state. Different business name. That's the smarter choice.

I click on the other tab I have open for Hawaii.

Maybe I should put an ocean between Nathan and me. If he decides to look for me, he would never look there.

I glance at the Wi-Fi symbol at the top of my screen and wonder if Nathan can track my laptop somehow.

I turned my phone off yesterday.

I should've done it the second I left his condo, but I needed the GPS to get to this hotel. And after I checked in, I cried myself to sleep and didn't wake up until noon, which is when I turned my phone off.

I need to email Presley.

Need to figure out what to do with the rest of the events I've booked this year.

I put my elbows on the little desk and drop my head into my hands .

I worked so hard to have independence. But it was just that. Hard.

And I don't really want life to be hard anymore.

Maybe I should just let Rosalyn's Restaurant go.

I can get a job at someone else's restaurant. I can work to survive until this heartbreak passes. Then I can?—

The sound of something sliding across the rough carpet has my head jerking up.

I look at the door.

It's still closed.

But my breath catches.

Because lying on the floor, two feet from the door, is a folded piece of paper.

A letter.

I stare at it.

Then at the door.

He found me.

He came for me.

Fear and hope collide inside my chest.

I brace my hands on the desk and push myself up to stand.

My legs tremble with each step.

He wrote me a letter.

I pick it up.

The fear that he's on the other side of the door with an officer and an arrest warrant is outweighed by the hope that he isn't.

I open the letter.

Dear Rosie,

It took me longer than it should have, but I got your letters.

I wish I'd gotten them sooner.

I wish I'd found you sooner.

And more than anything, I wish it was me who killed him.

I would have done it for you.

Over and over, I'd have done that for you .

You deserve so much more than you've been given. And you did what you had to do.

I'm so proud of you.

You're not broken or bad or any of the other things you might think.

You're the someone special I've always wanted.

You're my person.

And your secrets are mine to keep and protect.

Just like you, my Pretty Rosie. Because I'm going to keep and protect you too.

And my feelings have never been pretend.

My love for you is real.

Now open the door.

Letting hope win, I open the door.