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“Rosebud, where were you? We were worried sick,” Cole said, reaching for her.

“I-I can’t do this. I need to be alone.” She tried to move past us, but Cole blocked her.

“Rosalie, you’re scaring me,” he said, way calmer than I expected him to be, but Cole was hurting. He was terrified we were losing her.

He wasn’t wrong.

I knew I needed to let her go, but I couldn’t help myself. I fucking wanted her more than I wanted my next breath.

I wanted her to be my wife. To marry me. To have kids with me. To lie in bed with me and laugh about silly things and tell one another our secrets.

Me. Fuck. Us. I wanted us.

But I didn’t say that because I had to finish what I started. I had to fulfill my promise.

Instead, I watched my best friend fall to his knees in front of her, tears soaking his cheeks.

“Rosebud. I’m fucking scared, baby. I’m so scared. Please. Talk to me. I’m begging you.”

“I’ve spent the last few weeks alone,” she whispered. “So scared. So confused. So worried. I know things were hard. I fucking know they were because I lived through them too. The people I needed most left me to fight alone. It hurt me. It still hurts me. I-I need to think. I have to think. This isn’t right. You need to think about what you want, too, because this is killing me. I-I can’t live like this. I don’t want to.”

And that was it. She stepped around Cole without another word and went upstairs, her soft cries echoing around us.

Cole stood and stared at me while wiping his eyes.

“What do we do?” he asked. “Enzo…”

“Let her decide,” I said. “She had a bad night. She needs to think about things.”

“What if she leaves?” His eyes widened.

“What if she stays?” I countered. “Her dreams, Cole. She needs to go.”

“No,” he whimpered. “No.”

I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was sure she spent the night with another guy. I had no fucking idea who it was either, but I knew it wasn’t Anson because I had men watching his place, and he’d been there all night, and Rosalie was never seen.

I’d given it the old college effort, though, and asked anyway in the hopes she’d tell me anything to make this pain go away.

“Was…” his voice trailed off. “Enzo?”

“What?” I walked back to the couch and sank onto it, my head a fucked up mess.

He followed and sat beside me.

“Was she with another guy?”

I swallowed and looked to see the turmoil on his face.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

“I don’t know. I think so.” I watched his hands clench and unclench into fists repeatedly. “It wasn’t Anson, but that’s all I know.”

“Do you think she’s cheating on us?” his voice cracked.

Fuck, I didn’t want him to hurt. He loved Rosalie so much. He had all these damn plans for kids, for a future. Cole Scott was a fucking terrible monster, but for Rosalie, he was a saint. He loved her endlessly. Without question, he was a man who would do anything for her when it came down to it.

So was I. I just operated differently.