جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 40

Rosa's PovThe prenatal class was held in a room painted the color of warm sand. Soft chairs arranged in a circle, a dozens of other couples already seated when we walked in.Daniel looked at the circle of chairs like he was being asked to defuse a bomb."You don't have to sit in the circle," I said."I'm sitting in the circle.""You look like you'd rather be in Singapore.""Singapore I understand." He gestured at a poster on the wall showing a cartoon baby in various developmental stages. "This is less familiar territory."I almost laughed. I didn't, because he was here, actually here, which was more than I'd expected when I'd casually mentioned the class at breakfast and he'd asked what time without looking up from his coffee.The instructor introduced herself as Melanie. Warm smile. Practiced patience. The kind of woman who'd explained the same breathing techniques to frightened couples a thousand times without letting it show."We'll start with introductions," she said brightly. "

Rosa's PovHe was gone when I woke up.I sat up slowly, wrapped the throw blanket around my shoulders, stared at the empty space beside me where he'd been and decided I wasn't going to let this morning become another wound I had to carry quietly through the apartment.He sat at the kitchen island when I walked in, fully dressed, coffee in hand, laptop open."Morning," I said."Morning." He didn't look up from the screen."You left.""I had calls starting at six.""You could have woken me.""You needed sleep." He scrolled something on the laptop. "Prenatal rest is important.""So is having a conversation the morning after sleeping together.""We can talk later." He clicked through something on screen. "I have a full day."I stood in the kitchen doorway in last night's clothes and looked at him, this man who'd pressed his face into my hair and whispered words that broke me open in the best possible way, now sitting two feet away with the warmth of twelve hours ago completely erased from

  Rosa's Pov I stood at his desk for a long time after he stopped talking. The folder sat closed between us, all those sketches inside it, my face drawn from memory day after day while he maintained the careful fiction of not caring. "How long have you been doing this?" I asked. "Since Vegas." "Every day?" "Most days." He stayed by the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. "It's how I process things I can't say out loud." "So your sketchbook is basically your emotional vocabulary." "If you want to put it that way." "I do want to put it that way." I turned to face him fully. "Because you'll put my face on paper every single night but you can barely say my name like it matters during daylight hours." "Rosa." "Tell me why." I crossed the

Rosa's PovRichard Gosling sat in a chair positioned like a throne, thin and pale but still radiating the particular menace of a man used to being obeyed."So." His eyes moved over me slowly. "This is what my son married.""Rosa Park." I extended my hand.He didn't take it."I know your name." His voice came out thin, rasping, deliberate. "I'm more interested in what you are.""Father." Daniel started."Let her answer." Richard's eyes stayed on me. "What are you, exactly? Beyond a translator with no family and no prospects who happened to be in the right bar at the right time.""I'm the mother of your grandchildren.""Grandchildren." He said the word like it tasted bad. "Plural, I understand.""Twins.""How fortunate for you." His mouth curved into something that wasn't a smile. "Two chances instead of one to secure your position.""I'm not trying to secure anything.""Everyone is always trying to secure something." He leaned back slightly. "You simply haven't admitted yours yet.""Fa

Rosa's PovI left the office. Left him standing there with the folder still open on his desk, my name typed across pages he'd never intended me to see.I didn't sleep much that night.Around midnight, thirst or restlessness or something else entirely pulled me toward the kitchen. I found him already there, standing at the counter in the dark, a glass of water untouched in front of him."Couldn't sleep either," I said."No."Neither of us moved for a long moment."I keep thinking about what you asked me," he said finally."And?""I don't have an answer that isn't complicated.""Complicated is fine." I crossed the kitchen toward him. "I'm not asking for simple. I'm asking for honest."He turned to face me fully. In the dim light his eyes looked darker than usual, something raw sitting just beneath the surface control he usually maintained."I don't know how to love someone without documenting it first," he said. "Without turning it into something I can analyze from a safe distance. That