Rosie's Obsession

Chapter 43 — A Tug of War

Henry's POV

I glanced up from my book, staring at her sleeping form in my bed.

A small smile graced my lips, though it never reached my eyes.

I tapped my fingers against the desk, staring at her thoughtfully.

(Well, I'm not f*****g you, am I?)

I groaned, closing my eyes in exasperation.

What are you doing, Henry?

You're not f*****g her, but you're touching her already….

Scratch that—

At the rate things were going, it wouldn't be long before I found myself buried deep inside her.

My fingers rapped against the table steadily.

I was digging a hole that'd end up dragging us both down when everything came to light.

She mewled softly, drawing my attention back to her.

Like a moth to a flame, my feet carried me from the desk to the bed.

The cold from the air conditioner caused her to shiver and curl further into the sheets.

I moved closer, pulling the surrounding duvet before tucking it securely around her body.

She let out a small sigh of relief, before settling in peacefully.

I took a seat on the edge of the bed, hands reaching for her…

Then I stopped.

A sad smile framed my face as I gazed upon my very own forbidden fantasy in the form of Rosie Alphonse.

God knows she'd always intrigued me.

I used to find it strange—why I'd always stare at that one student who spent most of her time gazing out the window, only to focus on me whenever she thought I wasn't looking.

It was always amusing pretending not to notice her checking me out, but what was always surprising was how she managed to pass her classes even though she never listened to a word.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting back a smile at the memory.

Whatever was happening between us was a disaster waiting to unfold, and as the most practical person—I had to think of a solution fast, but to do that…

I had to start by laying all my options before me and weighing the consequences carefully.

Option one.

Deciding to cut the engagement with Denise so I could be with Rosie—

I shook my head immediately, dismissing the thought before it could take root.

Denise would hate me forever.

But the question remained—could I live with Denise's hatred if it meant having Rosie?

You're forty-two, Henry.

Do you really think Rosie loves you?

You're merely an older man she's fantasized about.

It's all a fantasy, nothing else.

Once the remnants of your youth disappear, do you really think she'll stay?

Of course not.

She'd run into the arms of the next young d**k waiting for her.

I rubbed my palm over my face, sighing tiredly.

God knows I wasn't truly afraid of leaving Denise.

I was afraid of sacrificing everything for Rosie, only for her to eventually leave me for someone else.

I was old enough to recognize that what I felt for her was… different.

Real.

But I wasn't sure if what she felt for me was real either.

Or was it just a phase?

Option two.

Would rushing the wedding and officially becoming her stepfather stop me from wanting her?

I scoffed bitterly.

That isn't even an option, Henry.

You have already crossed that boundary.

I highly doubt an official title would stop me from crossing even more boundaries.

I exhaled heavily, staring at nothing in particular.

That remained my final option.

Leave.

The rejection would hurt her, not because she loved me…

Oh, I knew for a fact Denise didn't love me, and she probably never would.

We were just two people clinging to each other because it was the easiest thing to do.

In the end, we were stuck at a point where neither of us could reach the people we actually wanted to be with.

Whether oceans away…

My gaze dropped to Rosie.

Or sleeping a few feet from us.

I could call off the engagement and leave everything behind.

Leave Denise.

Rosie…

I sighed, my shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

Would leaving really stop me from coming back to her?

I already did it once, only to find myself back here…

With her.

Was this some kind of curse?

An eternal loop.

Made up of Rosie and I—circling, running and fighting these feelings over and over again.

Funny how every option dragged me back to the same place—having no idea what to do.

“f*****g great.” I muttered bitterly.

“Henry…”

A soft voice mumbled as fingers blindly reached for me.

Just as her fingers brushed mine…

I pulled away.

Her lips turned downward in displeasure, brows furrowing tightly as soft mumbles left her lips.

I reached for her again—

Stop, Henry.

I pulled my hands back, clenching them into fists.

Then I stood up.

I had barely taken a few steps when a small whimper stopped me.

“Hate you…” she muttered.

I turned around, my heart constricting painfully as tears rolled down her face.

She was crying.

And the reason behind those tears could do nothing but watch.

I ached to reach for her.

To hold her.

To comfort her.

Tell her everything would be alright.

But instead—

I stayed back, doing nothing.

I was never a man who lied.

Neither was I a man intimidated by difficulties.

I always had a solution to everything.

Why?

Because I was a man who thought things three steps ahead.

But that was also because I could tell a storm even if it was days away.

Rosie, however, was the kind of disaster that struck without warning and left me unprepared.

Leaving me with nothing to do but run.

And yet—

Even running was never a solution.

For the first time in my life, the only solution I could come up with was leaving everything in the hands of fate.

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

To think Henry Gareth—

A man known for his intellect—would one day sit back and leave his life in the hands of fate.

And although rare, I was also a man who knew when to accept defeat.

So perhaps, I'd leave things in the hands of fate while Rosie and I continued this endless tug of—

Would I continue holding back?

Or would Rosie make me break?

And finally,

How long could I keep pretending I still had control?