Just Rosalie

Lake Brie

ELIZABETH AND ROSALIE headed to the garage, where Rosalie's motorbike was. It hadn't been used in years. But she was going to drive Elizabeth to her client's house with it. They placed on helmets and headed onto the road. The drive took about an hour, and a stop for gas, but they finally reached their destination with all of their limbs intact.
The guard allowed them through the estate gates, and if Rosalie could say so herself, the house was beautiful. She couldn't believe that Elizabeth was doing the remodeling for it. She'd never seen Elizabeth in action, and couldn't wait to.
When they entered the house, Rosalie found herself staring at a few of her mother's art pieces. Whoever owned the house was certainly a Kaitlyn Watson fan. A woman, seemingly in her early twenties, and dressed in skimpy clothing came rushing down the staircase. The smile on her face could brighten a sunny day, and she was ecstatic.
"You're here!"
She squealed and pulled Elizabeth into a hug. Her eyes then fell upon Rosalie and she placed her hand over her chest.
"You're Rosalie Watson. Oh my god, my mama's gonna flip when she hears about this. I can't believe I'm standing in front of the one and only Roses!"
Rosalie quirked a brow. The woman in front of her believed the rumors. But it wasn't as though some of it wasn't true.
"It's not..."
"Oh shush. Don't lie to me. Of course, you are. The mother and daughter duo, it's the juiciest piece of gossip I've been hearing all week."
Elizabeth gave Rosalie sympathetic eyes and shrugged. Rosalie was planning to reveal herself to the public regardless. So there was no harm in confirming to a fan, was there?
"I... uh..."
"I'm Macey Colt. You're my mama's absolute favorite artist. She's always wondered your identity. Oh my, can I get a picture?"
Macey quickly snapped a photo with her phone before Rosalie could even refuse. Rosalie was still hesitant about responding to the rumors. There were definitely going to be a few setbacks. She'd discussed it with her art dealer, and her sexuality would have taken a toll on her brand. For god's sake, it was the twenty-first century. Yet, the closet's still packed, or had to be. Rosalie didn't plan on lying or trying to cover up her sexuality. She'd rather deny the rumors than to deny her sexual orientation. Hell, she'd give up her career if it came down to it. She'd made millions over the years. Early retirement would have been lovely. She wouldn't have to worry about being hounded on the streets by fans, or criticized for the way her heels didn't quite suit her outfit. She wouldn't have had to set deadlines, or fear the spotlight ever again.
But was that really what she wanted?
Rosalie loved her career. She loved making money. Who didn't? Her spending habits definitely weren't excess, and if she ever did have kids, she wanted to leave them a fortune for a stable and happy life. She wanted to continue donating to charities, and contributing to orphanages. She wanted to be able to buy herself a goddamn sexy car, not that she didn't already have one. And it wasn't even about the money, it was about her pride. She was still yet to surpass her mother. But would she ever? Could she ever be that great?
Maybe, it was time to put her ego to rest. She'd never be as great as Kaitlyn Watson. And why did that bother her? Why did she want to be greater than her mother? Did she feel threatened? Or did she just want to be that prissy?
Her head began to pound, and Macey's constant rattling wasn't helping at all. Macey had a Texan accent, for sure. Was Macey from Texas? Was she an American? Why was Rosalie thinking about that?
Elizabeth placed her hand in her Rosalie's as Macey guided them around the house, telling Elizabeth about the things that she wanted to change, the materials that she thought would suit the layouts and the overall result. And Elizabeth guided her on the more appropriate ways to go about the ideas, and costs and estimations.
Rosalie's head was spinning by the end of the meeting. She didn't know if she could manage taking Elizabeth to see Romario after-his grave, of course. That would make her day into an even more nauseous one. She felt sick to her stomach, as though she'd throw up at any given moment. She wanted to tell Elizabeth to take her home. She tried to tell Elizabeth with her eyes, but was disappointed with no response.
They were sitting in the backyard sipping on iced tea, when Rosalie noticed Lake Brie on the outskirt of the estate grounds. She'd recognize that lake from anywhere. Her gag reflex gave up on her, and she rushed over to the edge of the railing and puked right into her most hated lake in the entire world. Oh, how she hated that lake with a vengeance.
Elizabeth rushed over to Rosalie's side, and rubbed her back with the palm of her hand. Rosalie disposed of her breakfast, and about everything she'd ate the previous day. Why was she so sick? Why was she puking into that godforsaken lake? She didn't want to be anywhere near it.
"Take me home, please."
Elizabeth nodded hastily. She'd need to head back the next day. Renovations were starting in a week. She needed to contact her suppliers, set an accurate estimate. There was so much to do. And all Elizabeth wanted to do was be with Rosalie-comfort her, take care of her, love her.
"Of course, bunny."
Elizabeth knew that they couldn't drive home on that bike. Rosalie wasn't well enough to handle it, and Elizabeth surely didn't know how to operate the thing without crashing into the lake herself. And Rosalie definitely couldn't handle another crash, and in the same lake? That would have been a permanent, mental breakdown if she did survive the second time round. Elizabeth called Kaitlyn to pick them up. They took a walk through the vineyard beside the house, since Rosalie had to get away from the view of the lake.
"I hate this place."
Rosalie's arms were wrapped around her torso, and she was leaning her head against Elizabeth's chest as they walked.
"It's so beautiful though."
Elizabeth whispered. She'd loved the scenery, and the lake. The lake was gorgeous.
"My brother drowned in that lake." Did I really just confess that?
Elizabeth's eyes widened and she stopped in place. Did she hear correctly?
"Bunny, I'm so sorry for bringing you here... I..."
Rosalie could see the regret written all over Elizabeth's face. She needed to tell Elizabeth the truth. It was time to tell the story. What better place than any? The lake was right there. Out of eye sight, but still there. And she wanted to tell Elizabeth. She wanted to share her grief. That's a good thing, right? Maybe, it was just her vulnerability, or the fact that Elizabeth's comfort deserved a reward-the truth.
"We were both in the crash." Rosalie whispered and Elizabeth held her closer. Her heart stung from that piece of information. Rosalie had been in so much pain, and Elizabeth wanted to take it all away. But she couldn't, as much as she wanted to. Elizabeth placed a kiss on Rosalie's forehead and inhaled the scent of her shampoo. "I want to tell you the..."
"Don't say anything that's too hard. Don't force it out." But, I want to.
Rosalie stepped back and smiled. She plopped herself onto the dusty ground that overlooked the vineyard and inhaled a deep breath. Elizabeth did the same and placed her hand on Rosalie's thigh. Rosalie appreciated the contact. Elizabeth's touch always seemed to calm her down.
"We'd been cooped up at home all weekend. Mum had grounded us for smoking pot in the backyard. So, we sneaked out, headed to a bar, and spent a few hours." Rosalie gulped. She'd never spoken out the events leading up to his death in years.
Elizabeth could see the tears building up in Rosalie's eyes. She placed her hands in Rosalie's firmly, justifying protection. She'd protect Rosalie with everything that she could, even if it meant jumping into that very lake to save her.
"You really don't..."
"Please let me continue. Let me do this. I need to do this. Not only for you, for me too." Elizabeth nodded and looked intently into Rosalie's eyes. She tried to blink as least as possible. It seemed to help-the intensity of her touch, her looks, and her breaths against Rosalie's cheeks. "He was drunk. It was raining. Pouring, actually. And he was driving. I told him not to drive, but he was too stubborn to listen. I wanted to call mum. I should've called mum to come for us. To come for him. If I'd done things differently, if I'd follow my gut, he would still be alive."
The tears were pouring down Rosalie's cheeks, but she had to continue. She needed to finish.
"Bunny, please..."
"So, he drove. It was so dark. So, so dark. The rain was pouring. Thunder was roaring so loudly. He was driving so speed. I begged him to slow down. He still wouldn't listen. We skated off the road, crashed into the railing and into the lake." Rosalie gulped. Continue. Say it. Be done with it. "His seatbelt was stuck. I couldn't breathe, water was filling my lungs, and it was so much darker down there. I couldn't see. I didn't know what to do. We would have both died... but I somehow got out. My seatbelt wasn't stuck, the window was broken. I had a chance to escape... I almost didn't make it. I coughed and screamed when my face hit the air, and I could breathe again. I swam to shore as quickly as I could, but it was isolated. I'd managed to reach the opposite side from where we slid off. So, I ran for help. I got a stranger's phone. I called the ambulance. I called the police station. I called my mother. But nothing was enough. Because it was already too late. When they got him out, he'd died five to ten minutes already. He died around the same time I'd survived, when I hit the shore... it should have been me. I wish it was me."
Rosalie face was hot red by then. Her sobs were loud and uncontrolled. Her head fell onto Elizabeth's lap, and her body lost strength. She'd finally told the story-the story of the worst night of her life.