Rose leaves most nights to “have dinner” with Taras. I knew all along what it meant. I knew where she was going and what she was doing. I knew why she didn’t come back until late at night or, some nights, not at all.
But I allowed myself not to think about it. I allowed myself to be numb to it.
Now that it’s my turn, I’m a mess.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, rolling over and burying my face in my pillow. “I’m so f*****g sorry.”
“For what, babe?” Rose croons.
“For…” I don’t know how to say it without it coming out wrong. “For not being more sympathetic the last six weeks. You just always left this room so confident, your head held high. I guess I didn’t let myself see how much he was hurting you.”
I look up at her in confusion. Her eyes blaze.
“I don’t want anyone to see how much I’m hurtin
