Page 129 of Wait for Him

Bennet's eyes cut to me, and all I can do is hunch my shoulders because what the fuck am I supposed to give him? Rose is answering like a recording of herself. The woman who once threatened to drown him in the lobby fountain is sitting there with nothing in her face and barely anything in her voice.

"Okay." He tries again, gentler this time, the way you approach something wounded. "Are you going to another firm?"

"No. I'm just leaving. I don't know when I'll be back." She pauses, and it costs her nothing while taking years off my life. "If I'll be back."

"Leaving?"

"Yes."

"Rose, you're scaring me."

"Sorry."

Not don't be scared. Not I'll be fine. Just sorry.

An apology issued with the same flat courtesy you'd use after bumping a stranger's shopping cart, and I watch it land in Bennet's breath. Watch him look at his sister and realize he doesn't recognize the woman wearing her face.

Where is she? The thought is a visceral scream in my head.

Where the fuck is she, because this isn't Rose. This is the vacancy she left behind, and somebody in this room has to say something before she walks out and takes the last visible piece of herself with her.

"When are you leaving?" I manage.

It's the first thing I've said since the meeting started. My voice comes out rusted, and every head at the table turns toward me except the only one that matters.

Rose doesn't look up. She doesn't pause while sliding her portfolio into her bag. For one suspended second I think she's simply going to pretend I never spoke.

Then...

"Now."

One word, delivered to the room at large. Not to me. Not to Bennet. To the fucking air, I guess.

She shoulders her bag, turns on her heel and walks out of the conference room without a backward glance at her brother, the company she built, or me.

Rose

"Rose."

Please don't follow me. Just let me go.

"Rosalie."

Footsteps gather behind me as I head for the elevators. Michael and Jackson reach me before the doors even open, and they follow me inside. The car fills up with their concern, their questions, their need for me to be okay. To say more than I can muster. To smile, take charge, fix the tone of the room and become the version of me they've both spent years relying on.

I have nothing left.

"What is going on, Rose? I get that you couldn't legally tell me about the board seat, but when has that ever stopped us?"

"Rose. Please, talk to us. Don't leave."

The doors open on my floor and I walk out. They follow.

"I need time away from everything. I couldn't leave the board seat vacant without knowing how long I'd be gone. I'm done here. You both need to accept that."

"So you've been planning this for weeks and not saying a thing?"

That does it.