Page 50 of Reckoning

“I’m fine.” She says before she starts laughing.

The waitress who stayed with us glances at her and then me, and it’s obvious she’s as confused by Rose’s reaction as I am.

“Why is it funny?” I ask.

Rose shakes her head. “After all this time I’ve realised I truly don’t care what this city thinks of me. It’s very liberating.”

“I wish I could reach that point.” I mutter.

“You did just slap Valentina for everyone to see.”

“I was sticking up for you. After what she insinuated…”

“Oh, come on,” Rose laughs. “Like you didn’t want to punch her from the moment she sat down?”

Yeah, I’ll admit I was considering it but I doubt it would have looked as good if I’d just launched right into her like some feral beast.

“It’ll probably be all over social media within the hour.” I state.

Rose smirks more. “Good. Now everyone will realise what a bitch she is.”

The waitress makes us fresh coffee. Though they try to protest, we make a point of paying for it. Afterall, it wasn’t like they were responsible for Valentina’s bad manners.

When we go back to our table it feels like everyone is whispering. I guess I can’t really blame them, I’d probably be discussing it if I’d just witnessed that little scene play out.

Rose orders cake, and she sits there, eating it like this whole thing is now a performance. Like she’s making a point. I’ll admit I admire the way she can still keep it all together, the way she has that perfect mask still in place despite everything she went through.

“How are you feeling about the case?” Rose asks.

I shrug. “It is what it is. I don’t have a choice in being there but I’m not going to push anything either. And I meant what I said, if I do get any money then I’ll donate it all. I want some good to have come from all of this. I want some positivity.”

She smiles, nodding, and I know she gets it. I know she donated all of Paris’s wealth after he died, and that it was pretty much for the same reasons. It felt like blood money. It felt tainted.

“Do you have any updates on the…?” I pause, glancing down to make a point of what I’m actually asking.

If Roman and Rose are trying to keep this pregnancy hush hush then me saying it in a packed room won’t exactly help with the plan.

“It’s good.” She smiles. “We had a scan.” She pauses, picking her phone up and types. Seconds later I get a message.

- ‘The baby is good. I’m on some meds to control my blood pressure. Hopefully now everything will be smooth sailing’.

I look up and grin at her. “That’s great.” I say.

She forks another mouthful of cake into her mouth grinning.

We’ve never spoken about that night, about the Cuckoo Club, about what she witnessed, about any of it. I guess somethings don’t need to be discussed but I like the fact Rose has never treated me like a child, she’s never tried to wrap me in cotton wool the way my brother and Ben have.

Maybe because she’s been through hell too, she understands that sometimes gentle hands do not help.

Sometimes tiptoeing around doesn’t benefit anyone.

Koen

Ishould stay away. I know I should.

But like an addict I just can’t.

The way she felt, the sound of her gasp – it lingers in my head, it clings to me and I have to have more. I need more.

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