Rose went home later that afternoon, feigning a headache and apologising to Abby for ruining their plans, but she just needed to be alone to think. Everything she had learned about Morag was swirling in her head, and her heart was breaking into a thousand pieces with all of it.
It tainted everything she did for the next few hours. Took all enjoyment from her life. Her mind, a swirling mass of conflicting thoughts and emotions, robbing her of her sanity, and as much as she tried to put on a brave face, even Muffin was sensing something was wrong. Following her around needily and whining up at her every time she sat still.
She pushed her phone into her bag on silent and ignored his texts, ignored when he called her later that night, unable to bear the sound of his voice. Unable to look at his name on the screen. Her heart was prickling and heavy with the realisation that it would never work that seeing Morag that way, the extent of what he was dealing with, just put an end to everything.
She couldn’t do this anymore, and it would be the hardest thing she had ever done; she needed to break things off for her sanity and his too. This relationship was on a one-way road to destruction; if they kept going this way, she would end up hating him or vice versa. Morag was always going to come between them, and Rose deserved more. She wanted normal love, a relationship and happy endings. Kids, marriage, a life. None of that was possible if things were always going to be this way.
She tried to resist the temptation to read his texts, but weakness got the better of her. She missed him more than she could bear, and she knew she was only delaying the moment that would cut her heart out. Mostly they were just updates on his trip and that he missed her. That he would catch her when she was not busy. He would assume she was with Abby and couldn’t answer or was in her studio, where she never took her phone, so she had peace.
The normal tone of his messages ripped her heart out. She sat staring at it numbly, tears pouring down her face as her phone vibrated again. She felt like she was dying inside. He had no clue about the change in her and what was coming, and the thought of hurting him only made her ache more.
Another text asked if she was upset with him as she was not responding. It had been a couple of hours, and he knew she usually responded eventually when it came to him. Even if she was with Abby, she never usually just blanked him completely. She stifled a sob as another text hit her screen.
‘I think I get it, Rose... I spoke to Abby. Talk to me, baby. xxx’
He was already making this so much harder, and she had not even told him. She was losing the resolve to stay strong and wait for his return to do this face-to-face. She couldn’t keep ignoring him. It wasn’t fair. He had done nothing to deserve this.
‘Is there nothing I can say?’ He barely left a minute between texts, sensing somehow, he would get no response. She bit her lip, holding back the tears inside, hurting so much more now that he knew what she was thinking. He knew her well enough to be able to piece it together.
He would have known from a brief conversation in which Abby told him about Morag’s visit. She would have told him about the fight and the following discussion. What Abby had told her about Morag and their past. Abby told Rob everything. She had no secrets. Part of why she loved the girl was because she was honest and open with everyone. He would have guessed what she was thinking, maybe even coming to the same conclusion a million times before himself. The fact that this situation had no end. That their future was as bleak as the last few weeks had been. That sneaking around would always be part of the relationship, and Morag would always be in the way. That it was not about needing more time, Morag was never going to be ready.
She picked up her phone. Her will was breaking, and the need to reply to him overwhelmed her.
’I can’t do this anymore.’ She had no idea how else to say this. Even typing those few words broke her heart into a million pieces; she needed to say more, but she had no idea how to tell him that she needed to walk away for her own sake. She typed another text immediately, feeling the need to try, afraid to let him respond when she had so much more she wanted him to hear first.
‘I have thought about this all afternoon, and it keeps coming around in circles. It’s ripping my heart out, but I need to end this, Rob, before it destroys us. I love you so much, but this is killing us, and it’s not working.’
There was a long pause, her hands trembling. Reminiscent of the first time she ever texted him weeks ago about being her slave for a day, but this time it was far more devastating. Far more real. She knew that his response was going to tear her apart. Her mind was made up, and even though she was dying inside, she knew it was the only way.
She sat with her phone in hand for over ten minutes waiting. Barely breathing, unable to look at anything else. Tense at his lack of response, she knew she could not keep sending messages into the emptiness and crying silently as her body was filled with pain.
Finally, her phone vibrated, and she turned it over with trembling hands.
‘I know! I have known for a while; I said it would destroy us. I have felt us falling apart more and more the longer we go on. I won’t try, Rose. I love you too much to make this harder for you. I don’t want to get to the stage where you hate or resent me for it, just know I’m always there if you need me. No matter what. Xxx, I love you, Penelope. Always.’
It was the worst goodbye she had ever had in her life; this was not how she had wanted it; she wanted to feel him against her one more time. To feel his arms pull tight around her and push away the world for one last moment. To have their one last time, so she could cling to him and burnish those memories into her brain for eternity.
She slid down onto the couch, dropping her phone silently. She had nothing she could say to him that would make any difference now, and her mind was so overwrought that typing would have been impossible. She rested her head against the arm and let the gut-wrenching pain and heartfelt sobs wrack her body. She had no more fight left in her anymore. She had just ripped out her heart and stamped it to absolute death.
She lay on that couch and let the despair take over for the longest time until the sun disappeared, and she was left in only a moonlit room.
When she finally had the strength to pull herself up from the couch, the rage within her caused her to lash out and swipe the mantle clear of frames, crashing and smashing to the ground in an emotional release.
He hadn’t even fought for her. Just let her go, just like that. Just a couple of texts, and it was all over.
Had she ever really been anything more than a distraction for him?
Crumbling back into a sodden sobbing heap, she stayed cradling her legs as Muffin tried to click the tears from her hot cheeks until the sun was long gone.
* * *
Rose was always good at hiding her feelings when life called upon her too, despite feeling dead inside. Walking around like a lifeless zombie, yet still functioning among the living. Managing smiles for the postman, managing idle chit-chat when she popped into the grocery shop for milk and the bakery for bread. Looking like she was rested and healthy under her amazing makeup skills.
Even Abby could not really tell that her world had come crashing down, breaking into a million sharp pieces on the floor, and her shell was nothing more than a robotic presence. Her dark circles from lack of sleep and shadows from lack of appetite were well and truly concealed, thanks to Estee Lauder.
While Rose was trying to breathe, life carried on around her as before; people still shone and smiled, and the sun held high in the sky. Even the news reported that this had been their longest hottest summer in recent years and that the country was enjoying the gorgeous weather. Everyone was happy and bright and moving on in life...
Her parents had finally twisted her arm and arranged a visit, despite all her protests and excuses to put them off. She was caught in her weakened state, so she couldn’t argue as effectively as she would normally. Didn’t want to. She didn’t need to anymore. It was not like she had a reason for them to meet Rob Munro. No secret romances or lies, just Rose and Muffin and the same old. Same old.
* * *
Abby came by in a super hyper state after Rose came off the phone with her mother that afternoon. She had rung three times in two days, overexcited with the plans for their visit. The Manor was hosting the annual summer fete, which meant a lot of great family fun through the day, stalls, games and pony rides; then, at night, a glitzy drink and dance. Abby was bouncing and excited and trying to describe the excellence to be had as it was the year's highlight, and she was looking forward to it.
Rose wanted to refuse. Abby staring at her with open-eyed enthusiasm only made her feel more pressured into an agreement; she groaned when she realised it was the same weekend her parents visited, and they would not let her bypass a night at the manor. It was all her mum had gushed about on the phone when she found out Abby and Rose were such good friends.
Her mum had somewhat of a star-struck condition concerning the Munro family and their huge house; Olivia’s stories always being a favourite of hers. That was all she needed. Her arm, well and truly twisted, she could not find a good enough excuse to bypass the event altogether without making it obvious to Abby that something was off.
That something being Rob!
Rose ensured she never brought Rob up in conversation, but sometimes Abby did. It was only natural, seeing as he was the centre of her world. Her big brother and protector, he made sure everything in Abby’s life went smoothly and happily along, always checking in. Thanks to Abby’s idle chit-chat, Rose learned that he had extended his trip by a week or two in Glasgow, telling Abby he had some things he needed to deal with.
Rose had wondered if he was taking time out to let things simmer away between them. Distance to let it all drift away in the breeze.
Was he giving her time to get over it, or was he simply avoiding her?
Shrugging it away and ignoring the emptiness, she was getting better at locking down her brain whenever he surfaced to avoid unnecessary breakdowns. Somehow even apart, it still felt worse knowing he was so far away even still. Hundreds of miles between them. She threw herself head first into trying to forget him.
It helped being dragged around by Abby that week to take a break from her workroom after many a night doing nothing else but drawing. They headed for short trips almost every day, enjoying the glorious sunshine and pretending to be tourists while Abby had a break from college.
They had visited every beauty spot in a sixty-mile radius that week, as though Abby sensed that her friend needed to be saved from her thoughts. Abby was intuitive, and although she had sussed something was going on, she never pried. Knowing when Rose needed to talk, she would, so she was doing what she could on a lack of information and trying to keep her friend busy.
They had hit the beach, castles, the zoo, petting farms and museums. It had been eventful and tiring and had helped keep her mind occupied just enough to get through the days. She was thankful for that anyway.
Even though she knew he wouldn’t contact her, she checked her phone more than she should, every time that ache of disappointment followed by anger at her own pathetic-ness. She tried to bury it deep in her bag and ignore it, but her fingers would creep down anxiously and check regardless; she would scold herself at the wave of hurt when she saw nothing but her familiar screen saver.
Rose just needed to forget him, put her head down and work hard in the hopes it would get easier in time. She had enough work to ensure she could be distracted for several months.
Her agent had already overnighted new forms to sign and notes to go over for her next book. All she had to do was pack and send these final pieces in cardboard rolls ready for the printing company to turn them into luscious glossy children’s books. Her heart had no longer been in it, but you could not tell by looking at them. Still vibrant, fun and whimsical and very much in her trademark style. She envied the young and their ability to look at her pictures in awe and bewilderment, lost in the fairy stories and characters. She could sure use being lost in a fairy tale about now.
* * *
Muffin whined by the door, indicating he needed to go out for a toilet break. She checked her watch, realising it had gone after eleven pm and was pitch black outside. Knowing he wouldn’t do his business out in the garden, she had no alternative but to walk the little fur ball. She needed a break, her back and neck aching from scooping over her technical desk when she put the final details on her last piece. A walk was maybe not a bad idea. Some air and a little stroll would make her feel ready for bed. Lately, sleeping had been near impossible, so her nights had gotten later and later, working until fatigue took over.
She rummaged in the kitchen for a torch, headed out in a woolly cardigan, and slipped on shoes with her normally light summer dress, Muffin on the leash in hand. The night air was thick and dark. A little too humid and stuffy, but the moon was up and full in the cloudless sky, casting a lot more light than normal. She held the torch before her, illuminating the ground, avoiding large stones and tree roots as they made their way towards the main road. A slight breeze in the air made the trees rustle, the faint sound of the river nearby adding to the mysterious atmosphere.
Muffin sniffed at the overgrown bushes at the sides but seemed intent on holding in his business until he had been a good walk. Straining to pull her towards the main entrance, he was restless and whiny. She cursed him under her breath, tucking the doggy bags into her pocket again. Sometimes he was just a stubborn miniature mule. He did not even seem like he wanted to go potty anymore as she headed out of the gravel road, expecting to take a turn to the left and use the grass verge out of town, but stopped in alarm at the dark car parked just off the entranceway. Muffin began excitedly yapping, his tail flying wildly and spinning around in circles pulling the leash tightly. It looked abandoned. Two wheels up on the grass verge just at the start of the turning into the cottage. She recognised it at once and felt her heartbeat start to quicken, and her nerves take over. That sinking feeling of dread overcame her.
She heard him before she saw him.
Rob!
‘Down here.’
Jumping out of her skin, she slid around the car cautiously, realising he was at the back wheel changing a flat tyre. His jacket was off, his white shirt sleeves rolled up, and he was expertly using a tyre iron to tighten wheel nuts back on the new wheel, the flat one lying on the grass beside the car. Muffin lunged forward at him, covering his hands and wrists with fevered licks as he ruffled his tiny head. Rob took a second to pick him up for a belly rub before letting him back down and keeping his gaze averted.
‘Hey,’ She sounded as awkward as she felt and physically sick to her stomach, looking at him longingly. She knew the first time seeing him again would be hard, but she had not counted on it being this much agony. She pulled Muffin's leash back as he again tried to climb onto Rob’s lap, and he sat obediently on the grass verge, wide-eyed, that wild little face alert and happy at the sight of his master. Traitorous little beast.
Rob glanced up. His normally clean-shaven, tanned face was stubbled and tired, and he smiled quickly. It didn’t reach his eyes, and he didn’t stray on her face for more than a mere second. It had the same effect as poking something sharp in her heart.
‘Hey... I’m done, so I will be out of your way in a sec.’ He stood up, using a rag to clean his filthy hands, effortlessly scooped up the ruined tyre and popped it in the boot. She was struggling for words, trying to find something to say and desperate to drag out this brief encounter now that she was faced with him. Seeing him only highlighted just how much she missed him, just how much she loved him.
‘I thought you were still in Glasgow?’ She said shyly, her voice a little fragile and low. He just seemed normal and distant.
‘My flight got in an hour ago. This is me just getting home.’ He still didn’t look her way, concentrating on putting tools back into a little compartment on the boot floor. He sounded emotionless, with no warmth in his voice, no anger, just indifference. It was sheer agony, being this close and unable to throw herself into his strong arms when he looked as handsome as always, and it only pained her more that he was acting like she didn’t mean anything to him.
‘Right! of course... Did you get things sorted out, then? On your trip?’ She sounded odd even to herself, trying too hard not to react to him. He shut the boot
‘All that I could sort, yeah.’ The disinterest and coldness were causing Rose to well up inside. The urge to cry grew stronger and stronger, and she felt stupid. She had chosen this; this was her doing, not his, and he was only acting like she should have been. Keeping his distance. It shouldn’t be ripping her open like this, he was being civil and not being an asshole, but it hurt like crazy.
He stopped as he got to the driver's door, looked down at Muffin for a moment’s pause, and then finally at Rose.
‘Don’t go too far. It’s late, and although rural, you never know who is out here, Penny.’
It was too much, that little piece of concern, even if he did use that awful pet name. Still, the protector and she was rendered unable to talk. Afraid that trying to answer would cause a breakdown in front of him, she faked a quick smile and nodded, turning away quickly with an awkward wave.
Without looking back, she headed away from the car. Fighting the urge to turn around with all her might, she pushed on, tears streaming down her face and trying to block out the hum of his car behind her.
Rob watched her walk off in his rear-view mirror for a few seconds, adjusting his mirror to watch her out of sight before heading off and going home.
Rose felt her strength going with the car as it faded away.
Muffin refused to do anything more than scent every bush they passed in the twenty minutes she dragged him around. He kept pausing and straining to look down the road to the way he had driven off, which only angered her. She grew agitated and huffily pulled him back towards the cottage. The tears finally dry, and, instead, the return of numbness and misery.
He had looked every bit as good as her memories. Smelled his familiar scent in the air, and the sight of his bare arms and tanned skin flexing as he tightened the wheel nuts had made her long painfully to reach out and touch him. The detailed memories of how his hands had felt on her body and that deep caressing voice. She could not shake the cold blank expression on his beautiful face or the lack of love in his steady voice, knowing fine well that she was torturing herself! She pushed open the cottage door and turned on the lights angrily.
Maybe this is what she needed!
To see him again.
To get over the first shock and see that he was happy to move on, to feel that it was over and see with her own eyes his disinterest in her, some closure.
He was behaving as she expected he would, back to being strangers who occasionally nodded in passing. All back to business as though she had never been more to him than his sister's friend. One thing is for sure. He wasn’t suffering the way Rose was at having ended things. He seemed like he always seemed.
Absolutely fucking normal.
She threw herself down in bed after settling Muffin into his and stared at the ceiling, pushing thoughts of him aside and tossing them around. She could not get comfy. Every part of this room reminded her of him, even if he didn’t deserve her obsessing over him. Her sheets, although fresh, still held his scent faintly. Maybe it was not the bed. Perhaps it was the air around her and the way her ceiling danced with moonlit shadows, even reminding her of lying awake and listening to him breathe in his sleep so many times during stolen moments together.
‘Argggh!’
Frustrated, she threw off the sheets and got back up, pacing and hating everything around her.
Was this how it was? In books and movies and life? Is this what getting over someone was like? Someone who you thought was yours forever?
It was horrible and cruel. Like some mental torture! She picked up the phone by her bed, seeing its blank screen staring back at her mockingly and throwing it at the wall.
‘I hate you!!!... I hate you!!... I HATE YOUUU... I Hate...’ She broke into sobs, falling back onto the bed and curling into the fetal position. Talking aloud through a flood of tears, full of self-pity and despair.
‘I’m losing my mind...I’m going insane... Is this how she feels? Is this how you make her feel, knowing she isn’t wanted?’
Slow, painful agony and torture.
‘Like she can’t breathe! Like she’s having her insides twisted and pulled apart slowly. She’s seeping away into non-existence...That she cannot function or go on... Or live?’
She closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears change course and trickle down her cheeks towards her ears as she lay flat on her back. Somehow soothing. Morag came into her mind’s eye clear as day.
The first time she laid eyes on her was when she was the hot seductive picture of perfect manicure and control. With that alluring demeanour, she seemed like a woman who got everything she wanted with little effort. Domineering and confident. It was all a facade. A lie. She showed the world a face when, inside, she was broken and aching and drowning in her despair. She was a first-class actress and the world her stage.
Rose felt compassion for the woman for the first time instead of hatred and resentment. She could relate to the despair of dangling on a precipice, not knowing how to feel or act when the man you were devoted to was indifferent. To have your heart trodden down until it resembled nothing more than ground meat.
She felt ashamed.
She felt lost.