Scythe & Sparrow (The Ruinous Love Trilogy, #3)(98)
“The last card of the deck,” I say as I withdraw only the card and hold it out for her to take, the envelope and a folded letter clutched in my other hand. There’s a question in her furrowed brow, but she takes the card and looks at the image. She knows tarot. She knew this would be the last one left. “The Lovers.”
She doesn’t say anything, just looks down at the card, letting her hair obscure as much of her face as it can. I unfold the letter.
“Dear Rose,” I say. “It’s so good to be able to finally use your name. Because that means I’m home now.”
Rose’s nose twitches and she sniffs but still doesn’t look up from the card.
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I couldn’t tell you where I was or what I was doing because it was just too dangerous. I couldn’t bear the thought of someone finding their way to you. Even writing you these notes was a risk. I’ve never written letters to anyone before, but there were days when it felt like knowing you might be holding the same paper and reading the same words kept me alive.”
When I glance up from the letter, she’s watching me, a shine in her eyes. My fingers tremble as adrenaline floods my veins, my gaze lingering for a moment on the end of the line of a tattoo that runs the length of my left forearm, one of her heart’s rhythms, traced with precision from a photo I took of her EKG as she slept in the hospital.
“The Lovers card represents choices in relationships. And the choices I made nine months ago were the hardest ones I’ve ever had to make. I had to break your heart to save you. I had to leave to love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life making up for the time we lost. I’m asking you to choose us, Rose Evans. I promise to spend every day doing everything I can to make you happy. There’s no one else I’ll ever love but you. So no matter what you choose, I’m not letting you go. I never will.”
I lower my hand to my side. A tear breaches Rose’s dark lashes and slides down her cheek. She’s staring down at the card again as though it might tell her the future all on its own. Her lip trembles. I would give anything to touch her. To kiss her. But I’m just not sure if too much damage has been done and too much time has passed.
Rose wipes the tears away, but more follow. “I liked your letters,” she whispers. “That one was my favorite.”
Hope soars in my chest, so big it chokes me, yet so fragile I think a single breath could break it. “Mine too.”
“I … I’ve been …” Rose’s voice cracks. I take one small step closer, but she shakes her head and clears her throat. “You hurt me.”
“I know. I’m so sorry.”
“But I know it’s my fault too. I was the one who antagonized Matt Cranwell in the first place. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t done that.”
“No, Rose. I’m glad you did.” She meets my eyes, finally, and it feels like a relief when she does. “I never would have met you otherwise. I’d still be stuck trying to live in a box that I was never meant to be in. That’s one thing that being away has confirmed—that the idea of the life I thought I wanted was just that. An idea. And despite testing it out for a long time, it never fit. The only time anything started to feel right was when you came along.”
Though her expression is still troubled, Rose nods. She keeps nodding, as though it’s hard to stop, until finally she tilts her head and shrugs. She shuffles on her feet. Ruffles her hair. It takes her a minute to even glance at me, her damp lashes shining in the dim light.
“So, like … what does choosing you … what does that entail, exactly?”
I can’t help the stupid grin that erupts on my face, though I try my best to subdue it. “I think it’s whatever you want it to be.”
“Well … but …” She shakes her head and looks out to the sea, a crease notched between her brows. “I like cuddling. We’d have to permanently dissolve that rule.”
I take another step closer. She’s nearly within reach. My hand aches with the need to touch her, but I stop myself from moving closer. “I like cuddling.”
“I like PDA. Holding hands and shit.”
“I want to hold your hand.”
“Dorothy only has one bed. I’m not unfolding the sleeper sofa. It’s a pain in the ass.”
“Perfect. I don’t want separate beds.”
“And you can’t keep telling Barbara she has rabies. She doesn’t like that.”
“You have Barbara?” I ask, and she gives me a faint nod. “I thought she was performing with the poodles.”
“There were some …” Rose pauses, her gaze lifting to the sky as she considers her words. “… incidents. With churros. And maybe one or two with the hot dog stand.”
I sigh dramatically, but only to test out her reaction. Sure enough, her eyes slice to mine and narrow. “I won’t tell her she’s rabid,” I say, laying a palm across my heart. “I promise.”
Rose’s arms fold tight across her middle, the card still clutched in one hand. She juts her chin out and blows a puff of air into her fringe. I’ve imagined that exact quirk so many times over the last few months that it feels like a punch to the chest to see it happen right in front of me. “Dani and Renegade totally deserved to win Surviving Love.”