83. Nate

EIGHTY-THREE

NATE

I never wanted to make you feel like this.

I close my eyes and lean into her soft touch.

"Rosie." Her name comes out gruff.

"I didn't want to tell you because it's all done." Her hand slips away, and she sets it in her lap. "And even if you'd never moved away, my home life wouldn't have changed. None of that was your fault."

"It would have changed!" I say it like I believe it. "I would've… Rosie, if I'd known he…" I have to swallow. "I would've done something. If I'd have known he was hurting you, I would have done something."

Her breath hitches at my words, and tears trail down her cheeks. "I was never your problem. Please don't take this on."

I was never your problem.

And it hits me.

The truth of it.

Rosie's never had anyone to trust.

Her mom might have treated her okay, but she died when Rosie was young.

Died and left her with a monster .

Then I left. And from the letters she wrote, that left her with no one.

That thick taste of guilt coats my tongue.

I came back.

I found her again.

But I've been acting like nothing changed between us. Except everything changed.

I'm not a kid anymore. And Rosie stopped being a kid long before me.

She never had a chance.

"Is this why you're always looking at me like it'll be the last time you see me?" I finally ask the question out loud. Because I finally understand what I've seen in her eyes.

Acceptance in the defeat.

Her hands move to press against her stomach. "You were never supposed to know."

"I'm glad I know." I pull her hands away from her body and hold them in mine. "You're not alone anymore, Rosie. I'm not leaving."