salvation sequel [rafe x barry]

trailer park & country club

"Ma, I swear I'm fine
but when evening comes around
I swear to God"

Rose was one of those girls that perceived themselves as different—meaning better—from all the others, while simultaneously being terrified that these very others might think she was different—meaning worse.

Within her sorority, between golfclub wifes, moms at tennis matches, she always found herself trying to fit in, while looking down on those women that didn't play, were actually just that.

She'd never wanted kids, lose control over her body and beauty for a random person that would grow to hate her anyways—the Cameron kids proved so much. Never wanted to be a mom, servant to the wishes of her husband, or God forbid, not being able to work, dependent on a man's feeding hand.

It was no doubt Ward who provided for her and the family, her salary making almost no difference to the kind of money he brought in; to the point she could've chose to not work, Ward understanding her well enough to never even suggest, but if she needed to, she could've left, would've been fine on her own.

It was Rose who had suggested the prenup. Had insisted on separate bank accounts even, to make it crystal clear: She didn't want Ward for his money. "I know that", Ward had chuckled with affectionate confusion when she told him, but it wasn't him she needed to prove it to, needed to prove anything to, in fact.

More so 12-year old Rafe who had asked if he had to attend the wedding or could just stay home, playing GTA. More so to rub it into coworkers faces, she wasn't a gold digger, she didn't even take his money...although no prenup changed the value of the diamond on her hand, or the pin to his black amex in her phone.

But it was entirely true: she didn't want Ward for the money. And not even for his appearance, that of a respectable man, important figure in town, well known, beloved, awarded Knight of the Rhododendron, one she liked the look of herself standing next to, just like any other pretty trophy wife, just like all the others.

She didn't want him for the great man everyone saw he was, she wanted him for what they didn't see, what made her different, for loving it. Making her more than just that empty rich kook cliché —pretty, blonde and alcoholic—that seemed so terrifying the thought of ending up like her had pushed Sarah to the other side of the goddamn island, making her special.

The way her life had slowed down since they arrived at Guadeloupe, none of her fake yet entertaining girlfriends to talk to, no clients to tend to, no houses to put on the market (they had plenty of money anyways), had taken a toll on her mental health.

She tried cooking, even, tried being that women, anxious to let strangers into the house to do work yet anyways, without discussing it with her unconscious husband first. Rafe and Wheezie had complained plenty about the food, and other chores a maid should've handled. Rose provided nice drinks to wash it down with tho. If she knew one thing it was how to make a cocktail and it had soon turned into silent routine, setting down a drink for dinner at Rafes place and hers, something no word was lost about, not even thanks.

If Ward was just awake, this would be bearable, instead, she was left alone on an island with two kids that hated her, and now, a goddamn trailer trash druggie on top of it.

Rose had expected the worst and was met with..a surprising sense of calmness settling in the house.

Most times, they spent locked in the office anyways, doing god knows what. Rafe had claimed it the day they got there, splitting tasks even between him and Rose. He'd take care of the Cameron and finance side of things. Rose could take care of the no-name new family things like...buying new furniture or getting Wheez into school, equally important stuff. She hadn't fought him about it, assuming anyways, Ward would wake up after a day or two, and Rafe had thought so too, when he all too eagerly claimed the responsibility. Hadn't planned to carry it for longer than a week.