Chapter 44
THIRD PERSON
43%
The clock read 7:10 PM, and Rosalie stood in the kitchen, her hands trembling slightly as she diced vegetables. The aroma of roasted chicken filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of fresh herbs she had sprinkled over the potatoes. Dinner was nearly ready, and she wanted everything to be perfect. Tonight wasn’t just any night; it was an opportunity to fix things, to apologize for what happened at the party.
Rosalie exhaled deeply, trying to calm her racing thoughts. She placed the vegetables into a pan and set them on the stove to sauté. Would Damien like this? She bit her lip, glancing at the clock again. He would be home at 8, like always. Damien was a man of habits, strict and predictable, even when everything else in their lives seemed chaotic.
The past few days had been tense, his anger simmering just beneath the surface every time they spoke. Rosalie couldn’t blame him entirely. Her behavior at the party–getting drunk and causing a scene–had been irresponsible. She knew better. but the wine, the music, and the pressure to feel something other than the constant weight of their strained relationship had pushed her over the edge. Now, she had to make it right.
As the timer on the oven beeped, Rosalie pulled out the chicken, its golden skin glistening under the light. She arranged the food on plates with precision, hoping the effort would show Damien how much she was sorry over the drunken photos of her surfacing the internet.
Her phone buzzed on the counter, pulling her from her thoughts. She hesitated before picking it up, surprised to see the name “Uncle George” flashing on the screen. He wasn’t her real uncle but an old family friend who had always treated her like a daughter.
“Uncle George,” she said warmly as she answered. “It’s been a while.”
“Rosalie, my dear, how are you holding up?” His voice was kind, the same gentle tone that had comforted her through so many tough times in the past.
“I’m managing,” she replied cautiously, unsure where the conversation was heading
“You know earlier today I happen to come across photos of you surfacing the internet, Rosalie,” he said softly, his words laced with concern. “They had mean captions, ridiculous ones, mocking you and your husband. You don’t deserve that ridicule nor your husband.”
Her heart sank. Of course, he had seen them. The photos from the party had spread like wildfire on social media. She had tried to avoid looking at them, but the cruel captions and comments were impossible to escape. They painted her as reckless, unworthy, and every word felt like a knife to the chest.
“It’s a long story,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“I know you didn’t,” Uncle George said firmly. “You’re a good person, Rosalie. Don’t let anyone make you believe otherwise. Sometimes, life throws us into situations we can’t control. But you’re strong, stronger than you realize.”
Tears pricked her eyes, and she leaned against the counter, gripping the phone tightly. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Not even her own parents had called to offer her words of consolation
“Are you all right, though? Really?” he pressed.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “It’s been hard. Everything feels so complicated, and I don’t know how to
fix it.
14:29 Tue, 18 Feb OM.
Chapter 14
Unknown to Rosalie, Damien had arrived home earlier than expected. He stepped through the front door quietly, his briefcase in hand, and paused in the hallway. The faint sound of Rosalie’s voice carried through the air, and he frowned, setting his briefcase down as he moved closer to the kitchen.
“Complicated? How so?” Uncle George asked gently.
Rosalie sighed, her free hand rubbing her temple. “It’s just Damien, my husband. Things haven’t been easy between us. I feel like I’m constantly walking on eggshells, and no matter what I do, it’s never enough. I want to make things better, but I don’t know if I can.”
Damien’s steps faltered as he reached the doorway. His eyes narrowed, his body stiffening as he caught fragments of the conversation. What the hell was this?
“I know it’s not my place to say,” Uncle George continued, “but you don’t deserve to be in a situation where you’re not valued, Rosalie. You’re young, smart, and kind. You have choices.”
Damien’s jaw clenched, anger flaring in his chest, Choices? Was Rosalie considering leaving? And she was confiding in another man about it?
His thoughts were in disarray, drowning out Rosalie’s and uncle George’s voices.
“You can either leave or stay but I’ll advise you stay and try make it work. Talk to your husband, you both need to confide and voice your emotions and concerns, stay strong and try your best to fix any strains. Marriage isn’t easy my dear but you are a strong woman. You can make it pull through”
“I know,” Rosalie replied, her voice quieter now. “I’m not ready to give up yet. I just… I need to find a way to fix this.”
Damien didn’t hear the rest. His mind was already spiraling, the pieces coming together in the worst possible way. He turned sharply on his heel, his footsteps heavy as he stormed back toward the front door.
Rosalie, still engrossed in her conversation, didn’t hear him leave. “Thank you for listening, Uncle George,” she said, her voice softer now. “I really needed that.”
“Anytime, my dear. Remember, you’re never alone. If you need anything, you can always call me,” he reassured her.
“Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon,” she said before hanging up. She set the phone down and turned back to the table, smiling faintly at the sight of the dinner she had prepared. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. She glanced at the clock. 7:45. Just fifteen
more minutes.
But as the minutes ticked by, Rosalie’s excitement slowly turned to unease. By 8:30, Damien still hadn’t come to the table. She checked the living room, the hallway, and even the garage, but there was no sign of him.
The clock ticked till it was close to midnight and Damien’s number was unreachable.
Her heart sank as realization dawned. He wasn’t going to come home. And he hadn’t told her where he was going.
The carefully prepared dinner sat untouched on the table, the candles flickering in the quiet room. Rosalie sank into a chair. staring at the plates, her chest tightening with a mix of disappointment and worry. She had been so hopeful, so sure that tonight would be the night they started to mend things.
But now, all she could do was wait and wonder what had gone wrong.
