𝐁𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 || Milo Manheim

thirtyeight

Rosalie never imagined it would get to this point. She thought he was the one—the one who would stop making her suffer, the one who would finally make her feel whole again. But here she was, sitting on the edge of a lake, wondering if it was all just a mistake.

Her thoughts faded into silence when she heard footsteps behind her. She didn't turn, didn't react, she just let him sit next to her. She knew it was him. They sat together in silence, the weight of their history heavy between them. After a while, Rosalie broke the stillness.

She turned to look at him, her eyes tracing his profile. He looked just as beautiful as she remembered, everything about him seemed so perfect, yet everything about him had also hurt her.

"You know why I made this trip?" Rosalie began, her voice steady but laced with pain.

"Hm?" he responded quietly, eyes not meeting hers, as if waiting for the storm to come.

"To move on from you," she answered simply, the truth hanging in the air like a bitter confession.

Milo swallowed hard. He loved her so much that he would do anything just to see her happy. If he had to let her go, he would. He just needed to make her understand.

"You know why I came?" Milo asked after a long pause, his voice shaky but sincere.

Rosalie looked at him, confused. "Why?"

"To tell you that I love you," Milo said, his words full of a rawness that she hadn't expected.

"No." Rosalie got to her feet, the words burning in her chest. "You tell me you love me, and then what? You don't keep your promise, and you do the same shit over again?"

Tears rolled down her face, but this time, they weren't the quiet tears of a broken heart. They were angry tears tears that had been held back for so long, they finally exploded. Her head felt like it was on fire with emotion. She felt like Milo was just playing with her heart again, not taking her seriously, not valuing her.

"It's not like that, Rose," Milo replied, his voice pleading.

He stood up and walked toward her, his frame towering over hers. She looked up at him, anger and hurt fighting for control.

"Then how is it?" she demanded, her voice breaking. "Tell me how it is."

Milo's heart broke as he looked at her. "I'll tell you this every day, Rose: I don't deserve you, but I can't leave you alone. I need you," he begged, his eyes desperate.

Rosalie shook her head, still angry and hurt, unsure of what to believe. "How can I believe you?" she whispered, tears still streaking her face.

"You don't have to believe me right away," Milo said softly. "We can start over. I won't rush you. I'll do things right this time, I promise."

"No, Milo, it's not that easy," Rosalie responded, her voice shaking with emotion. "I lost my trust in you. I don't want to feel like I'm doing the wrong thing."

Rosalie was in pain, and so was Milo. He knew it wasn't going to be easy for her to forgive him, but he wasn't going to give up—not on her, not on them.

"You aren't doing the wrong thing," Milo said gently, his voice full of conviction. "I can promise you that."

"I can't do this." Rosalie's voice was firm now, despite the emotions swirling inside her. "You can stay in the guest room for the weekend, but I just need time to think."

Rosalie turned and walked inside, leaving Milo standing on the edge of the platform, his heart heavy with regret. He knew she needed space, but he also knew that he wasn't going to give up on her. Not yet.

When she entered the house, no one said a word. It was clear to everyone that this trip was for Rosalie, she needed it to be about her, and they knew better than to intrude.

Milo entered the house quietly, closing the door behind him. As he stepped into the living room, Sebastian stood up, his eyes narrowing with an angry glare.

"What'd you tell her?" Sebastian demanded, his voice sharp.

"I couldn't tell her much. She started crying," Milo replied, frustration seeping into his tone.

"Crying? Why was she crying?" Leah asked, her voice concerned.

"I told her I love her, but she doesn't trust me anymore. She just started freaking out," Milo explained, his voice filled with guilt.

"I don't blame her," Jimena said softly. "All this pressure on her is just too much."

"You see why I didn't want you to come?" Sebastian said, his voice rising. "All you do is mess with people's lives. You should've just stayed away."

Milo had heard enough. He wasn't going to stand there and be lectured by Sebastian. He had a point, but Milo wasn't anyone's fool.

"Dude, just shut the fuck up," Milo blurted out, his anger flaring. "I get it, I messed up. But that's why I'm here, to fix it. Just let me do what I have to do. If she doesn't want me here, fine. You won't ever see me again. At least not after her."

Without waiting for a response, Milo stormed out of the room, heading upstairs to find Rosalie. He knew Sebastian would have more to say, but that wasn't his problem right now.

⸻

Milo reached the top of the stairs and saw the many doors that lined the hallway. He'd never been here before, but Rosalie had always described the house to him. He remembered what she had said: Third door to the right.

He walked down the hall, his heart racing, and knocked lightly on the door before trying the handle. The door creaked open, and he stepped inside. To his surprise, she wasn't in the bedroom. The sound of sniffles reached his ears, and he quietly closed the door behind him. She was in the bathroom. He walked to the door and sat down on the floor next to it in a crisscross position, his back against the wall. He didn't know if she'd hear him, but he hoped she would.

"I don't want to be the bad guy and keep making you cry, Rose," Milo said softly, his voice low and vulnerable. "I'm sorry. I know I wasn't myself before, but I broke your trust. And I can't change the past. But I'm willing to start over. We can become friends again, and then... we'll see where life takes us."

He stayed there for hours, speaking from the heart, telling her everything he felt—things he'd never said to anyone before.

Rosalie didn't respond, but she didn't stop listening either. She didn't know what else to say, so she just let him talk, hearing the words she never thought she'd hear from him.

⸻

After hours of communication, Rosalie found herself asking: Was it worth it to forgive him? Would she be able to trust him again? Would it be different this time?

The answers weren't clear, but one thing was certain: She wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

.