Page 42 of Where the Roses Bloom
I caught her chin between my fingers, gentle but firm. “Hey,” I said. “You okay?”
She bit her lip. “I don’t regret anything, Rhett. Not one second. I just…I don’t want to scare you off.”
“Scare me off?” I echoed. “Baby, last night was the first time I’ve felt found in years. You didn’t scare me off—you brought me home.”
Her eyes filled, lips trembling. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
“Then cry,” I said, wrapping her up again. “I’ve got you.”
We laid like that for a long time—just breathing, holding, letting the morning seep through the curtains.
Eventually, she pulled back enough to look at me. “Do you remember what I said last night?”
I nodded. “Every word.”
“And…you’re not freaking out?”
I searched her eyes for any possible cue on how to respond. “Is it…wrong that I'm not?”
She let out an awkward laugh. “It's a little weird, I guess. Not wrong.”
“Willow…” I paused, searching for the words. “Ever since you showed up in my driveway, it's been more like you're comin’ home than anything else. I don't…I don't know what it means, exactly, but I have this feelin’ fate has a hand in this.”
Her brow furrowed. She lifted her hand to my chest, fingers splayed.
“The curse,” she murmured. “Rhett…do you think it’s real?”
I hesitated.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it. Hell, I’dlivedunder the weight of it my whole damn life. Watching my parents be so in love only to die in that crash. Watching Silas lose the only woman he’d ever truly let in. Watching Hazel warn us, year after year, that love didn’t last for a Ward—not real love. Not the kind that stayed.
But then Willow landed in my life, and I hadn’t had a single damn moment of doubt since.
“I used to,” I said finally. “I mean…how could I not? After everything that happened to this family?”
She nodded. “I get it. I do.”
“But now?” I traced a slow circle on her back, watching the way her lashes swept down. “Now I’m startin’ to wonder if the curse only had power because we believed it did.”
She looked back up at me. “So you think wecanbreak it?”
I nodded. “I think maybe we already started to.”
Her smile was tentative, but blooming. “Then maybe we should finish the job.”
I arched a brow. “How d’you mean?”
“I mean—what if itisreal, Rhett? What if it’s somethingdeeper than old grief and bad luck? What if there’s something we’re supposed to do? Some way to end it for good.”
Willow sat up against the headboard, pulling the sheet with her. “I want to know everything,” she said. “About the curse. About what you’ve heard. What Hazel believed.”
I let out a long breath.
“Alright,” I said. “You sure you want the whole story?”
She nodded. “Yeah. I want to understand what we’re up against.”
I shifted, propping myself up beside her and taking her hand, my thumb drawing little circles on her knuckles as I told the story.
