დ Rosalie დ
By the next morning, I had gone past tired. I felt thin. Worn through in places I couldn’t patch. The motel room had started to feel stale, but going home still felt impossible. I showered, dressed, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time with my phone in my hand, staring at Declan’s number. I should have left it alone. I knew that. I should have taken the day, stayed hidden, let things settle. Instead, I called him. He answered almost immediately.
“Rosalie?” I closed my eyes briefly.
“Are you home?”
“Yes,”
“I’m coming over,” I said before I hung up. I didn’t want to waste another second. The drive to his house felt longer this time. Maybe because I knew exactly what I was doing and hated myself for it in advance. Maybe because I could still feel the shape of yeste
