And Yet. . .

Chapter 4

"Do you just carry these around with you?" Rose asked, amusement lacing her tone as she grinned at her nearly eight-month pregnant best friend, Sidney.

Who, in turn, didn't at all take Rose's teasing to heart. "Yes, I do. I try to get everyone's opinions." She gestured to the swatches in front of her. "So, which one?"

Rose laughed softly, biting into her pasta as she eyed the swatches. They were all varying shades of yellow, a neutral color, despite Sidney knowing that the baby was a girl. But yellow was not only Sidney's, but Rose's, favorite color too, so that's the color the nursey of the baby was going to be. "This one. Fresh Lemonade. It's, like, pastel and not that bright."

Sidney grinned widely, seemingly proud of Rose's choice. "That's the one I said, too! Great, thanks, babe," she giggled, taking the swatches and shoving them back in her purse.

Rose merely returned the grin as she sipped at her wine, admiring her best friend's glow, listening to her chatter about how she couldn't wait until Elijah, her boyfriend of four years, brought back the paint so they could work on the nursery. It was beautiful to see Sidney so excited about this baby that Rose couldn't wait to spoil, to see her and Elijah be so impatient to meet their child, to watch the two of them become closer than ever.

Their relationship was one Rose had always admired; Sidney and Elijah always seemed to be on the same page, perfectly balancing one another. One look at them and you knew they were in love, committed to one another, and now that bond was going to be strengthened by the arrival of their first child. Rose pushed back thoughts of wanting something like that for herself, focusing instead on the joy of her best friend's expanding family.

Except now Sidney was turning the conversation back to her. "Are you sure you're gonna be okay this weekend? With the wedding and all?"

Rose inhaled deeply, leaning back in the leathered cushion of the small booth they were seated in. "I don't know," she answered truthfully with a slight laugh. She shrugged, offering a close-mouthed smile to Sidney. "It might sound selfish, but I just want this weekend to be over already."

Sidney shot her a look. "You have a right to feel selfish about this. Your sister's marrying your ex."

"Yeah, but like," Rose sighed once more, sitting up, as if she couldn't get comfortable. "We broke up literally years ago. I should be over it by now. I don't still have feelings for him, but—"

"But he broke up with you and then started dating your sister. And now he's gonna be your brother-in-law. It's messed up, Rose."

Yeah, she didn't need to be told that. Rose could never forget the hurt and betrayal she had felt after finding out that Jamie was dating Rich. And then to find out—by mistake—that they had started dating only two months after Rich had broken up with Rose and they'd agreed to tell her it was later than it was had been another kick to the gut. Rose had dated Rich during the last two years of high school, and a couple of months into her freshman year of college. But Rich was a year old than her, had ended up transferring from community college to Jamie's university, which only further distanced him from Rose. Eventually, their relationship had ended.

And Rose could argue and say that the break up had been completely mutual, but that would be a bit of a lie. Because he'd wanted to end things more than she did; her initial reaction had been to try and make things work, push through the issue of distance, but when she realized she would be putting more effort into it than Rich, she let it go. She would later understand why, exactly, Rich was so keen on ending things for good.

Rose would be lying if she said that she didn't wonder if Rich cheated on her with Jamie during the last few months of their relationship. But she never voiced that thought. It was too painful to even think about. Not if she was brave enough to face the resentment that burned through her veins whenever she thought of it. Rose was more inclined to let her emotions—at least about this—nestle deep in the crevices of her heart, all too aware that one day they might explode through.