Page 87 of Resisting You
I ran a hand through my hair as the elevator creaked past floor five.
What if shewasn’tjust cooling off? What if she thought this whole thing—our marriage— was a mistake again? What if Morgan’s poison had done more than ruin our evening—what if it had convinced Rosa I was the poison too?
The idea made my chest tighten until it was almost impossible to breathe.
I kept replaying the way she looked at me when I told Morgan to leave. That flicker of... something. Surprise? Hope? It was like she saw me clearly for the first time.
Like she finally realized how much I loved her. How much I had always loved her. I would always choose her. Over fame. Over fortune. Over any stupid movie or show or part I was offered. Rosa was it for me.
But then she vanished.
The elevator dinged and the doors crawled open. I stepped into the hallway, nearly jogging now. Our suite was halfway down the corridor and I had the key card out in my hand before I even reached the door.
Rosa had to be in here. Shehadto be.
I wasn’t ready for a fight. Or a breakup. Or tears. I just wanted to find her. To hold her. To tell her that no matter what Morgan threw at us, we were going to be okay.
Because wewereokay. Weren’t we?
I loved her. Even if she didn’t quite believe me yet, I would spend every minute of every day proving to her how much. And I knew she loved me, too. The feeling was there, rooted in my chest like it had always belonged.
I swiped the card.
As soon as the green light clicked, I ran inside, skidding to a stop at the sight of her. Standing in the middle of the hotel room suite.Packing.
It shouldn’t have surprised me. After the blind item detonated in the middle of our rehearsal dinner, after she disappeared without a word while the room buzzed with whispers and sideways glances, I should have expected this. But I didn’t.
Rosa wouldn’t run, would she? Not when we’d come so far. Not when she looked at me the way she had just a few nights ago, wrapped in the bedsheets, her fingers brushing through my hair like she never wanted to leave.
But I couldn’t deny what I saw. Her, standing in the middle of our room with her back to me, folding clothes like she was preparing for a long trip away from us. Fromme.
"Rosa."
She didn’t turn around.
I stepped inside. The soft click of the door felt louder than it should have. She paused, her hand hovering over a pair of heels, then she picked up linen pants and continued folding.
"I’ve been looking everywhere for you," I said. My voice came out rougher than I intended. "You just left."
"I needed to clear my head."
My eyes fell once more to her suitcase, mostly packed. "By packing your life into a roller bag?"
That got her. She flinched, just a little. Enough for me to see she wasn’t made of ice, even if she was pretending to be.
"It’s better this way," she said, her voice low.
“What’s better this way?” If she was going to leave me, then I needed her to say it. Blunt. Rip the Band-Aid off.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she crossed the room, picked up a folder from the desk, and handed it to me without meeting my eyes.
My heart thudded as I opened it. Annulment papers. A different set than the others she had tried to hand me a week ago. And these were already signed by her. Dated. Official.
Where the hell did she get these?
My face burned at the thought. At the realization that while I was all in, she had her exit strategy ready to go.
My eyes fell to the notary’s signature at the bottom…Kristen. I stared at the pages like they were in another language. "You’re serious."
