To Be Obscure

| CH. 16

I'm sorry.

How many times had I said it at her bedside? I was prepared to watch her die, to hold her as her life slipped away, and all I could say was, "I'm sorry."

I remembered when she stirred awake and the fever finally broke, she smiled at me. She touched my cheek and said, "Now, didn't I say to come home, or we'd catch a fever?"

She blamed the rain, not me. It took her ten years to learn that it was my fault, and even then, she wasn't angry. That anger took over a hundred years to settle in, and when it did, it exploded into an uncontrolled emotion. Could we have controlled it had I stayed?

If I'd been the man she wanted all along?

A doting husband and father.

"Monty?"

I rolled over, reached for my pillow, and found it with ease. I was awake, aware, but didn't open my eyes. For once, my head didn't ache. There weren't screams or reaching hands. I felt at peace, calm, and normal.

"Monty?" I felt hands on my legs, shaking me gently.

I grumbled under my breath, "What?"

Rosie sighed and made room for herself beside my feet. A sniff followed. "Nathan left," she said.

I opened one eye. Oddly, she wasn't dressed in her clothes. She wore mine: a white shirt—too large on her—with her own black tights. Her hair was brushed neatly and clipped to one side. She didn't look at me, but down at her hands where she held my journal. I could tell she'd been crying.

"Rosie?" I sat up straight without a second thought, motioning her to come to me. "What is it, love? Why are you crying?"

She shook her head as she looked at my fingers. "I'm sorry," she said.

I blinked. Had I said something in my sleep? Had she heard me? "Sorry for what?" I asked.

Rosie's fingers traced a page of the journal. "For just barging into your life, taking shit over. I didn't mean to, it's just without mom, I'm alone. You're all I have to get her back."

When she blinked, a tear fell from her blue eyes. Still, she smiled. The way her cheeks rose when she did mirror Charlotte, only with porcelain skin and bright freckles.

I touched her cheek. She wanted Charlotte back just as much as I did. And she apologized for everything, just like me. Perhaps, that dream was a reminder of what I wanted to be. To live simple, normal, at her side, with a family; to live Charlotte's dreams.

I had that chance. I only needed to save her.

"Hey." I shook her shoulder playfully to brighten her smile. "You aren't barging into my life at all. I want you in it."

She blinked at me as if she hadn't expected me to say it.

"You, and your mother. We could be the family we're supposed to be. We will be."

Rosie laughed and scratched her ear around the small pink stud she wore. "You're something else, Monty," she said as she wiped her eyes. "I can see why mom loved you."

"Well, I'm a loveable guy, what can I say?" I said with a smirk.

"You can probably say a lot." Smiling at me, she placed the journal between us and shifted her hands under the collar of the shirt she wore. Underneath it, she had a necklace—a thin, silver chain that carried a tiny cross. Rosie held it up to me before pulling it over her head. "This is yours," she said, "Mom always wanted you to have it."

The chain was warm when she placed it in my palm. I stared at it longer than I should have.

"A necklace?"