ROSE

65. Tears

R O S A B E L L A
♡

When the door knocked, my heart skipped a beat, as if it knew already that whoever is going to be behind it is the person that it's been craving. I looked at Rita that gave me a small smile and nodded.

I got up and walked to the door, took a deep breath and finally opened. It was him. My heart dropped as I place my two lips inside of my mouth and crossed my arms. I saw I tried, as hard as I could, to act unfazed but I sure wanted to jump in his arms and tell him how I miss him and how thankful I am for taking care of me when I was sick. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for making him leave that day and picking Noah instead of him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was for pushing him away. But I didn't. I stood there and stared at him as he tells me that he brought me the bags that I left in Noah's car.

"How did you get them?" I asked. He shook his head and broke his gaze from me.

"That's all that mattered?" He was talking more to himself than to me.

"Thank you," I finally said, refusing to look up at him. I approached and dragged the suitcases inside as he stood in the same place and watched me. "Come on in." When he heard what I said, he raised his eyebrows, not sure if he heard me right. I walked in and shut the door behind him.

"Look who's here!" Rita's voice roared from the living room as I took a moment for myself by using the suitcases an excuse. I heard a conversation building between them which made me feel just a little better. We aren't alone so it won't be so awkward.

Anthony and I, yesterday, had the most honest conversation we've ever had. And it hurt me. He said that his pride was more important than me and I don't know if I can forgive that. I sighed and walked out. He was sitting on the couch, beside Rita. My heart leaps when I saw his lips form into a small smile. He sat more comfortably and placed his arm behind Rita on the couch. He doesn't look like he had much sleep last night, just like me.

"Why are you standing there like that?" Rita slapped me with her words, bringing me back to reality. I realized that I've been standing, staring at him for awhile. I cleared my throat and approached them and took a seat in front of them on the other couch.

"Thank you for bringing my stuff, I didn't know how I will get them seriously." I tried to fill the conversation with anything.

"You didn't think I would just leave you behind right?" He said.

Why does he take everything I say as an insult towards him? I looked away. He makes me feel like I was the one wrong when he was the one that just left me behind. Okay, yes I am wrong too but he sees that he isn't and everything that happened is my fault.

"Alright then, I'll go make myself a coffee and leave you guys to talk for a bit," Rita said, got up and left. He got up and took a seat next to me.

"Can I ask you a question and you answer me truly?" He started.

I looked at him, waiting for his mysterious question but deep down, I knew that since he told me that, I will lie.

"How have you been...you know...since that day."

"Fine." I lied.

"Are you sure?" Knowing that he reads my eyes without even talking, I looked away from his and down on my hands. "Why are you lying?" He asked. "Rose, you know that I was lying when I said I was with Lindsay and you know that the day of the party was a setup. What else have I done for you to leave me?"

"Anthony, it's not only about the party." I finally spoke up. "I am tired. You are full of things that no one knows. All the secrets, all the grudges, all the people that you hurt before, and so on. I can't live with you knowing that you hurt people badly and they are waiting for you to have a weakness to hurt you back. I don't want to be that weakness. I don't want to be a target for other people to take revenge. I keep discovering things from people about what you've done before and I am done with it." I explained. I love him, I do and I said all of this before, I love him but I can't live like this.

"These all are things we can get through together." He tried again. Our argument, for the first time, was very calm with no yelling. For the first time, I felt like we can talk maturly like two adults that have problems without yelling at each other. But I wish I was able to fix what happened and even if I passed it this time, will I be able to do it over and over again?

"I can't, Anthony. I won't be able to fight for someone that puts his pride over me."

"I said that because I was angry." He lied.

"No, you didn't."

"I did-"

"You didn't," I interrupted him, "you meant everything you've said, Anthony, yesterday and I meant everything I said too." Our eyes met and my heart started to race, as if it was telling me to take back what I said, to hug him and tell him that I don't want him to leave, that I don't want to lose him, "I loved you so freely, blinded from all the problems you had in your life and the more they multiplied, I kept telling myself that it was fine, that I can handle it," I felt so numb, so unemotional, "but my relationship with you has consequenses that I can't handle."

For a couple of seconds, the vibrant silence was above us, only our eyes were communicating. I could see the goodbye in his eyes, knowing that he won't fight for me anymore and I won't accept it anymore. He nodded and looked down at his hands. "Alright." He looked up at me with his long lashes and the sad smile on his lips. "I'm sorry." He shrugged and got up.

I kept my eyes on him, on every step he took away from me and towards the door. He walked without turning back once, opened the door and disappeared from my gaze. Right when the door shut, my heart startled.

He left.

"Did he leave?" Rita asked. I looked up at her and just nodded. I wasn't sure if what I did was the right thing but I knew that it was what I needed to do to protect myself from getting hurt again. I got up and walked to my room. I sat on my bed, waiting for any tear to fall down, but there was none. I didn't cry, I couldn't shed any tear. I was very surprised. I was never that sad to the point that I couldn't even let it out. I just stayed in my bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Bella," Rita called. I looked up and saw her standing at the door. I got up and sat down and told her to come in. "How are you?"

"I don't know." My voice was very weak. He took every effort I had left in me. "You know," I looked up at her, "I can't even cry. I don't know why I am not crying, sobbing even."

She smiled sadly at me, approached me and hugged me.