Let You Go to Set Me Free
At the party, friends teased us, asking when Rosalie Diaz and I would finally get married.
I looked at her, smiling.
She said nothing, and stiffly changed the subject.
The friend who'd started the teasing glanced at me awkwardly, apology in his eyes.
My smile didn't waver. I took a sip of my drink.
I've always been a bit of a procrastinator, though not a hopeless one.
So I decided to let Rosalie go. And to let myself go, too.