I scribble my signature at the bottom of the paperwork and groan. None of this shit would have happened if we’d been more careful. The three of us could still be camping and relaxing. I lean back in my chair and rub the side of my temples. This last week has been a disaster.

After all the media attention, Blake and I have were reprimanded. Nothing severe. I’ve been given double shift for the next year. No amount of arguing was going to stop that, that much was made clear.

I don’t mind it. Being cooped up at home is worse than being here. At least here I can dive into my work and it’ll get her out of my mind for a couple hours. Before I take a good look around my office and remember the last time the two of us were here alone.

It’s an endless, brutal cycle.

At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now. The whole city of New York is looking at her and talking about it. The pictures that have been put on the internet have made me mad more times than I can count.

I haven’t seen her since the trip. Since I pulled up to the curb of the apartment building and she ran inside. The whole drive from camping was in silence.

I’ve tried to talk to her. To be there for her and console her through this time. I know that I should probably be the last person knocking on her door, but I can’t help myself. I can’t just turn off my heart and forget like my feelings for her don’t exist.

Every time I knock on her door, there’s no answer. I know that she’s in there. I guess that she doesn’t want to see me. And that doesn’t make this any easier.

I close the folder in front of me and swear under my breath. I should have been more careful. We could have easily gone into the tent and been out of anyone’s sight.

I press my thumb down on my pencil until it snaps in half. I toss the broken pieces into the trashcan. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for that man. If I’d just been a little rougher with him the night of the charity, he might not have been so keen to follow us when we left the apartment building.

Richard Lawler.

That’s the name that’s been ingrained into the back of my head. It had to be him who released the photos.

I close my eyes and sigh. All I can see is the pictures from the tabloids. The names that they all call Rose. The images of us out there in the forest, naked on the ground. I curl my hand into a fist and slam it on my desk.

No one should be treated like. Especially not someone like Rose. They don’t know her. And she certainly doesn’t deserve to be called the names that she is.

“Did you hear?” Blake pops his head into the room and closes the door behind him. He leans against the side of the door and throws a newspaper out in front of me.

I unfurl it and read the headline ‘Rose Collins admitted for psychiatric help.’ Underneath there is a picture of Rose leaving the apartment building in the middle of the night, a slew of bodyguards around her.

“What is this shit?” I mutter and can feel the anger inside of me. I tear the newspaper in half, crumple it into a ball, and throw it across the room. Enough of all this garbage.

“According to her stepmother Rose is going to get admitted for help. She’s going to the best hospital New York has to offer.” He drops down into the chair defeated.

“Admitted for what?” I shout and get up. I can’t sit still anymore. Everything is making me angry. “All she did was spend time with us.”

“That won’t matter to them. Not after the pictures.” Blake’s voice drops low and he plays with his fingers, plucking at his skin. “We probably won’t ever see her again.”

The words hit me like a sledgehammer against my chest. I take a breath, but nothing comes. I prop myself against the side of the cabinet and feel the world spinning around me.

I won’t take that as the final answer. I refuse to just give up and let her go. That’s not who I am.

* * *

When I get home from my double shift, I see a couple of movers walk out of Rose’s apartment. I make my way to her room, only to be greeted by an older woman standing at the door with a phone in her hand.

“Where is she going?” I lean over and try to get a look inside the apartment. My eyes scouring for her.

“She’s not here,” the woman mutters and looks at me with disgust in her eyes. “I’d advise you to stay the hell away from her.” She pulls up the purse on her shoulder and moves around me. Trying to avoid me like I’m infected by the bubonic plague.

“And who are you?” I shout.

“I’m Meredith Collins,” she shoots back and stops before she rounds the corner. “If I even see you or your friend around Rose, I’ll make sure that you two are fired and arrested. That’s my only warning to you.”

“But we love her!” I shout.

She stops in her tracks and puts her phone into her pocket. For the first time, she looks up at me. She takes me in and takes a step toward me. “If you love her then you’ll leave her alone. The damage that the two of you have done to this family is unimaginable.” She walks up to me and pokes her finger into my chest. I clench my hands and fight the urge to hit a woman for the first time in my life.

“I want to see her,” I breathe out.

She tilts her head and smirks at me. “Well, she doesn’t want to see you. She’s done living out her fantasies. She wants to get help and get away from you two.” She turns on her heels and waves goodbye. “And I’d advise you to stay away from her.” Her heels clack down the hallway and I hear the ping of the elevator.

And that’s the final nail in the coffin. I slam my fist into the wall so hard that it rips through the drywall. Dust flies into the air and I clench and unclench my hand.

How can I just walk away from this? How can I just say bye to Rose without ever seeing her again?