Rosalie was suddenly nauseous. Nothing Ezra had told her that night even alluded to him relying on her to survive anything. Of course — of course if she had known she never would have ran from him that night. And to think she had slapped him! He'd been trying to say he needed her, so why had she heard differently? Why had she heard him insist their son would die? Why had she heard him spew vile insults and question her love for him? Rosalie sank further into her chair, her disappointment evident in the way her shoulders sagged. Ezra had never done anything but love her, and she had crushed him every way possible.

She couldn't have helped her reaction then, though. Not when all she heard were lies and he thought her irritational. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to Ezra. "I'm - I never would have - I'm sorry."

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