A/N: Okay, here's chapter 2. I apologize for the delay my beta ha some things going on. Here's a bit of their history and just why they're not together now. This chapter contains a bit of discussion on some sensitive material. Nothing is terribly graphic, but I wanted you to be forewarned.
She sat at the table drumming her fingers on the table. The wedding had gone off without a hitch. She'd spent all her time fixing little problems that she was sure were someone else's job, but it kept her behind the scenes; which meant kept her from having to deal with all of the people she had been more than happy to leave behind when she left Forks years ago.
Her eyes strayed to the dance floor, she'd been helping in the kitchen when Sue had finally declared everything finished. She shooed everyone out into the reception, declaring that it was time to party; she wrapped her arm around Rose while forbidding her from doing anything else, pointed her at Jake's table and told her to have a good time. However, she had pushed around her lukewarm wedding meal and she was now watching him do his version of the mating dance with some unsuspecting friend of Rachel's from college.
He had asked her to dance, but the fact of the matter was she had made that mistake once and only once. Jake thought he had moves that could rival the crews on America's Best Dance Crew, but in reality he looked like he was having a grand mal seizure anytime he started moving against the beat rather than with it.
She sighed, deciding the scene was too pathetic for her to watch any more, and letting her eyes wander. Rachel and Paul looked happy as they danced in the middle of the floor completely oblivious to the rest of the world. She really was glad she had been able to be here for that moment. To see that it was possible for love to survive. As her eyes wandered further, they landed on the back of a head.
Her breath caught in her throat as she studied it, shaking her head quickly. There was no way he was here, because she knew she would have noticed it long before now. Despite her own inner protest against his presence, she knew
"Dance with me, mon petite Rose."
The voice sent chills down her spine as she swallowed hard and turned in her chair stiffly as if she was unaffected by it. She faced the chilling eyes of the man she had been avoiding all day. "Royce, no."
"Oh come on, for old time's sake at least you owe me one?"
"I owe you one?" She snorted in an unladylike manner as her eyes narrowed and turned to ice as she leveled him with a stare. "More like you owe me one. A big one like my life back. You know, the one you ruined."
"Oh come on. tell me you're not still caught up on that old stuff? He wasn't good for you, Rose. You needed a real man someone who could take you out and show you how to have fun, and break you in right."
The champagne she'd been using as a crutch to get through the night was in his face before he had the last word was out of his mouth. She no longer cared if she drew attention to herself as she stood up and looked at him in his eyes.
"Let me make one thing clear, Royce. I don't ever want you to speak to me again. If you see me coming down the street, cross and walk on the other side. If we end up on the same plane together, tell the flight attendant you need to catch a later flight. If I could find a way to have you deported from the country I would, and even that wouldn't be enough distance. So we're clear you are the scum between my toes."
Rose had her back to him and was storming off with her head held high, as if nothing could stop her now. She had the keys to Jake's stupid Rabbit in her purse and she was going to use them to escape. She opened her purse to retrieve them, not realizing she was walking into someone until it was too late. She started to mumble apologies when she froze again under his touch.
"Did you just quote Little Rascals while you were telling him off?"
She swallowed hard, hoping if she just side stepped a little to the left she could walk around him and pretend that this encounter had never happened.
He anticipated the move before she made it and stepped in sync with her and put his hands on her arms, forcing her to look up at him. The electricity that flowed between the two of them nearly made him jump. He had been sure he'd imagined how strong his draw was to her was, but here with her in front of him again he realized he had in fact underestimated it.
The anguish in her voice sliced through him in an instant. Emmett found himself wishing he could undo all that was between them. Take her back to a place where he had made her happy.
Hell, the way he figured it, if they were back in that happy place she'd have jumped him after a separation like this. Her long legs would be around his waist. he remembered how that felt-
"Shit." He interrupted his own thoughts as he realized she was getting away. Again.
He took off after her, she may have legs that go on for days, but her ridiculously high heels that made them look even more shapely hindered her escape enough for him to catch up for her.
"Rosie, baby, you have to talk to me."
She shook him away, the betrayal in her eyes was enough to make him step back from her, but the problem was he couldn't place why she felt so betrayed.
"No, we don't."
The sound that came out of her mouth couldn't have been human of that he was sure, it sounded almost feral and he took one more step back.
"Stop calling me that."
"Okay, okay, I'm not going to call you that. Rosalie, talk to me."
She kept her trek through the grass until she arrived at one of the smallest and ugliest cars I had ever seen, it didn't seem her type at all, but apparently a lot had changed in her life.
"No, you moved on. You don't get to talk to me."
"Moved on? Rosie, it's been five years since I've seen you."
"Four years, Nine months, and twelve days, but who's counting?"
He didn't dare point out that obviously she was, but he stepped forward his hand on the door effectively stopping her from ripping it open and causing her to turn her icy stare on him.
"What do you mean I moved on." He held his left hand up which was noticeably bare of even a hint of a tan line from wearing a wedding ring.
She snorted and he had to duck to miss being hit by her handheld purse being flung in the direction of his head, luckily she'd always thrown like a girl.
"Is that suppose to mean something to me in a day in age where men regularly don't wear a ring at all and especially not when they're out trolling for chicks."
"Trolling for chicks? Is that what you think I was doing here?"
"I don't give a shit what you were doing here, Emmett, we're finished. We have been for a long time."
"Maybe we weren't done the last time we said good-bye," he brazenly suggests as he narrows his eyes challenging her with his words.
"It doesn't matter, Emmett. You have a daughter. A life. I'm not a part of it and you are not a part of mine. Now get your hands off my boyfriends car."
She knew it wasn't fair to play that card at him, but at the moment she would grasp at any straws she needed to in order to escape him.
"I don't care if it's the pope's car. We need to talk, Rosie."
Unfortunately for him, her aim with her too high heels was much better than her flying purse and when he felt her grinding her foot into his, it was the last of it he could take. He scooped Rose up and put her over her shoulder, he kept his arm just under her butt to keep her dress from flying up and flashing the rest of the world her panties.
"Emmett Dale! Put me down! You can't get away with this. We're not kids anymore, and I don't think this caveman act is attractive."
He holds his tongue from telling her she used to find it extremely attractive as he stalks towards the woods with her. "Doesn't matter if it's not attractive, funny, or anything else; we are going to talk this out."
"No we're not. The minute you put me down I'm going to run."
"Good note, walk further than Rose can run in those heels or just don't put her down. You know, I think you weigh the same as in high school and we know from experience I can do this for hours on end, so you might as well just give in and talk to me."
"Talk about what? There's nothing to talk about. You didn't want to talk four years ago, why should I want to talk now?"
"If I recall you weren't really forthcoming with the details four years ago. You can't lay all the blame for what happened on me."
Emmett cut her off with a look as he glared over his shoulder at her, shaking his head "You slept with Royce, yes, I do recall that much of the details."
She balled her hand, let ting out a small shriek as her fist connected with his back repeatedly. She suspected it was still so solid that he would never feel it, but she could careless because she wanted to hurt him the way his words hurt her.
"I didn't sleep with Royce. He ripped my dress, forced me into the back of his truck. He was going to..."
He could feel that her body as it trembled in his hands and he immediately set her on the ground in front of him.
"He was going to what? Rose, he forced himself on you?"
He could see it all over again as if it were yesterday, walking to the clearing and finding Rose laid out in the back of his truck, her dress askew and Royce's pants down. He'd been so furious that he'd taken the fear in Rose's eyes as being fearful because she had been caught, not that she was terrified of Royce.
He wanted to die a thousand deaths for making a mistake like this. For walking away and leaving her at his mercy.
"Rosie, please?" The setting sun caused the moisture on her cheeks to glisten and he wanted to hit the rewind button and go back and undo what he had allowed to happen to his girl. He had betrayed her in the worst way possible. He had been so blinded by his own rage that he had left her with a monster willingly. He was responsible for the brokenness he saw in her.
"I'm so sorry, Rosie. I-I-there are no words."
"It was a long time ago, Emmett. I'm over it. I hate what he cost me. I hate that he felt like he could take something like that from me. He said I was asking for it. He said-He said-"
Her words seemed to get stuck in her throat and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against him. He expected her to struggle against his hold, but he felt her melting into him. "I don't blame you, Emmett."
"I do. My word, Rosie, I'm such a fool. Such an idiot. How could I?"
"I should have spoken up. When you got so mad in the clearing, I've replayed that night a million times in my head, thinking about how to fix it, but you're not to blame Emmett. It took me a long time to realize that, but you're not. Royce made the decision to do what he did. I made a decision to refuse treatment. I told my parents that nothing happened, that I was fine."
"I should have let you explain. I should have ripped him off of you and beat his face in the way I wanted to for touching my girl. I was such a damned idiot and let my pride get in the way, Rosie."
He studied her as they stood there, he wanted to believe that she didn't blame him, but how was he supposed to believe such a thing when he couldn't even believe it himself. He was to blame for what had happened. He had loved her with everything in him, and he had let her go willingly. What a fool he had been.
She held up her hand stopping him before he progressed. "Emmett, I didn't tell you all of that to make you feel guilty or to try to get something out of you. I'm trying to provide you with some truth, since Royce brought everything up to the surface. We're grown ups now. You have your life and I have mine. It was good to see you; I'm glad things in your life are going well. Best of luck with your wife and daughter."
She had turned on her heel and stalked away as he stood there dumbfounded, attempting to figure out what the hell she was talking about. He glanced at his left hand again. She was still caught up in this senseless thought that he was shitting her earlier about not being married. He had never been married, hell, he'd given up that dream the night he'd seen Royce on top of Rose.
Suddenly, the light bulb above his head clicked on as he realized she'd mentioned his Crissy. She must have thought he was still with Irina, as if that hadn't been the biggest sham of a relationship ever. Honestly, if it wasn't for Crissy in his life, it would have left a bitter taste in his mouth, but when the end result was his little princess, he couldn't find it in himself to feel that way.
He just had to figure out how to get to Rosie again and prove that he wasn't what she thought either. He knew they couldn't go back to those carefree days in high school, but he wanted his second chance at happily ever after. He laughed at the obscurity of his own thoughts; clearly he had spent one too many evenings curled up with his little girl and her princess obsession. He needed a plan and a drink, not necessarily in that order. Maybe he needed to do a little investigation to see who the owner of the small, ugly car Rose was trying to escape was. He was after all her boyfriend and sure to be a fount of knowledge on how to find his Rosie again.
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