Chapter Nineteen

Rose

I haven’t seen Finlay since the moment I so foolishly pressed my lips to his. It was a huge mistake, and I haven’t had the courage to face him. Six hours from now, I have no choice but to do just this. The clock reads 9:00 a.m., and I have a 3:00 p.m. deadline to come good on our bet. Why did I make this silly agreement with him in the first place?

Lying on my bed, I stare at the patterned ceiling. There are decorative plastered cornices curled into hearts, and like their perfect design, I try to picture my own heart looking so beautiful, well-structured, and stable—my heart isn’t faring well. In fact, it has taken more than it can handle this past week. I’m more than confused.

My phone chimes, alerting me to a message, and as much as I want to stare in a trance and admire these perfect lines for the next six hours, I turn my eyes away and reach out across the comforter in retrieval of my phone.

Slade – Tonight. 8 p.m. I’m so glad you came to your senses, Roselette.

Came to my senses? More like I wasn’t given a choice. As my father said to me yesterday, “We all make mistakes, Bubula, and Slade made a mistake he is indeed sorry for. He’s a broken man without you. I know this for a fact, because I’ve sat with him. Look around your bedroom, Roselette—so many gifts and flowers he’s sent to you in apology. You need to go back to him … you need to do this for all of us.”

Oversized bouquets, teddy bears, and jewellery are apologies in my world. I hate it. I also hate that I made my own mistake with Finlay. Deciding not to reply to Slade for the moment, I open the thread of messages I’ve now saved under his name.

Finlay – Rose are you, okay?

Finlay – Don’t be upset. You didn’t do anything wrong.

Finlay – I know you’re reading these.

Finlay – I’ll see you on Saturday. Come to my place. 3 p.m.

Finlay – Rose, are you coming on Saturday?

Finlay – I’ll see you Saturday. I hope you’re okay.

I couldn’t reply. I really shouldn’t even stand at Finlay’s door today. After all, I’m an engaged woman, and he’s a playboy. Although, is he a playboy? I’m not sure if this statement is the truth. I’ve never seen him with a woman, but then again, I haven’t seen much of him to make an evaluation. Arrrgghhhh! I need to shut down my mind. I can’t take this.

Pulling the knitted throw over my head, I try to calm my rapid breathing and turn off my thoughts. It seems to be working, that is, until my message tone alerts me once more.

Staring at the gold sparkle case covering the back of the phone, I take one deep breath before turning the screen to face me.

Slade – Roselette, wear an emerald dress and the chandelier earrings I sent you this week. Also, I’d like you to wear a sweet-smelling perfume over a simple washed-smelling one. This is an important event—I need you to be looking your best.

Each teardrop skims my cheeks. Is this the release of my despair and disconnection to my own soul? When did my life become such a mess?

“Roselette, why are you crying?” Maranda’s voice is controlled and sweet.

Sitting upright, I dab my face with my fingertips and will my tears to halt. They don’t.

“Why are you crying?” Maranda climbs onto my bed. She doesn’t reach out and offer me any physical comfort. She only stares at me from a distance with curiosity.

“I’m tired,” I breathe.

“Tired.” She hitches her thin eyebrows high on her forehead.

“Yes. I’m being a silly woman.”

Her light pink lips stretch in a smile. “I was a silly woman myself this morning. You’re not alone.”

“You were?” I’m surprised.

“Sure. I was upset over a boy from the country club.”

“What did he do?”

“He doesn’t notice me, Roselette.” She fiddles with the collar of a white tennis shirt. My sister is fiddling with something … and we are not the fiddling type. Something is really bothering her.

“Who is it?” I position myself into a perfectly postured upright position.

“Bentley McKenzie. Daddy wants me to get close to him. Hard to do when I’m not even someone he sees.” She drops her chin, causing me to sigh.

The McKenzies are the latest freshly crisp bills in our community. I should be surprised, but I’m not. “Do you like him, though?”

She gasps. “What do you mean?”

“Like, are you attracted to him?”

Maranda’s eyes narrow, and she stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads and both are wearing crowns of dancing snakes.

“Do you like him?” I repeat with a softer tone.

“He’s good-looking. I don’t really know him. I’m sure I will, though. Daddy really wants—”

“Daddy. Daddy has a way of pushing you into the arms of certain bachelors. Maranda, you’ve not long turned twenty. There’s no hurry.”

“What are you talking about? Mumma needs to take you to the doctor, Roselette. I think you’ve gone and bumped your head. We’re only young for a short period … I’m running out of time. You’re twenty-two and have optimised your prime time to capture Slade.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to use me and Slade as anything to aspire to.”

Watching Maranda run her hands along the white pleated tennis skirt she’s wearing, I think back to my first instructions on claiming the eye of an appropriate man. I fear I looked just like Maranda does now. The person picked for me was Slade, and Maranda’s is clearly Bentley. It dawns on me we don’t get to choose our love—our love is chosen for us. Will Gabriella face the same fate in two years when she turns twenty?

“Roselette, can you please tell me Bentley will notice me and I’m good enough to be his date?” The lost puppy-dog look she displays screams her dissatisfaction.

“You are.” I slump, defeated.

Maranda smiles broadly. Her perfectly straight and whitened teeth sparkle and a gleam is present in her bright green eyes. “Tell me what you did to get Slade to notice you.”

Straightening my posture once more, I tip my chin upwards and morph back into the Roselette I was trained to be. “I’d love to, and I will, but for now I must find Mumma and have my outfit for tonight pressed.”

“Where are you going?”

“An event in Mainbridge, I thought, but I believe it was relocated to the country club last night. I overheard Daddy talking about the change. I don’t even know what this function is for, but I do know it’s important I look my best.”

Placing her hands over her heart, Maranda falls until her back rests against the mattress. “I envy you. Fancy events where everyone is all dressed up. I can’t wait until this is me.”

I force a strained giggle whilst rubbing away the last of my fallen tears. “They are dreamy.” I try desperately to contain my sarcasm. I believe I did well enough to conceal it.

“Maranda, you have a tennis lesson to be getting to. Hurry now, sweetheart.” Our mother graces us with her presence.

“Yes, Mumma.” It’s a knowing smile Maranda gifts me before practically skipping from my bedroom.

“Roselette, your father tells me—”

“Mumma. Sorry for the interruption. I’ve much to do today, and I’m running behind schedule.” I can’t stand to be around my parents right now. Any excuse is a good one. “Can you please have the staff steam one of my emerald green satin gowns for this evening? Slade has requested I wear this colour.”

“Of course.” A flash of worry crosses her face, but it’s quickly replaced with elation. Why did Mumma look at me in such a way?

My day starts with a piano lesson, followed by horse riding. Lunch is seabass and eggplant and once finished, I brush up on my Greek, since Slade and I will be travelling there at the end of the year. A quick change of clothing and I’m ready for yoga class, which takes place on the lawn. My sessions conclude here for the day, and I’m left after to freshen up and take the dreaded walk to meet Finlay. I’m not sure I can even go.