The sob which lodged itself in the back of her throat was suffocating her. Rosalie refused — refused — to break in front of him. Rosalie could manage through the dance they were to have in the next minute. She would step far enough to the side to allow him through, he would leave without another word. It would take her a few minutes to compose herself enough for this foray into the closet to remain unnoticed. Her skirts would need to be uncreased, her makeup reapplied. A difficult task to manage in the dark, but she'd have to somehow. Just as she would have to manage the rest of the party.

It was only when she returned home — when her door could lock behind her and the room could be soundproofed — that Rosalie would allow herself to break.

She was already inching over to the side when he spoke, and her heart shattered in her chest all over again. He was right — they should have had this. Except, he omitted the singular truth that would make her run for the better part of a year, choosing only to reveal it when it suited him most.

"You should have told me sooner." Rosalie whispered in response, her throat tight with the force of the sobs she held back. "And maybe we could have."

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