More Than You Know (h.s)

Chapter Nineteen.

ROSALIE'S POV ❁

"Can I admit something kinda cheesy?" Carson asks softly from across from me, grinning as he glances down at the ground below him.

"Sure?" I giggle back.

We went from the party, to having a drink at some tavern down the street from the apartment building, to me ending up at his apartment in East Manhattan. I know exactly what me going to his place meant, but I've promised myself I wouldn't allow anything to happen.

Even though I want desperately to do something to catch Harry's attention and make him focus on me for once-- I want to keep the respect I have for myself still.

"I saw you walk in to the room tonight and you... You're breathtaking." His voice is soft as he admits the words and I grin over at him while shaking my head. He passes off his cigarette to me and I take a quick breath of the toxic smoke, then pass it back to him. I went through a smoking phase for two months when I was twenty and Harry was the one that got me to stop; he'd be so disappointed if he saw me right now.

"Breathtaking? That's a strong word." I laugh a bit as I respond to him and he's the one shaking his head now.

"It's an effective word, Rosie. I think it really gets my point across." He looks down at the loud city below us, then back over at me. His bright eyes sparkle under the dim lights surrounding us and I find myself captivated by his handsome features.

"I don't like to be called Rosie." I speak up again, feeling guilty right after for correcting the attractive man.

"Why not? I think it's cute." He pulls his lips between his teeth while looking at me and I do the same, unsure of how to respond. The only people I really let call me Rosie are family members and Harry.

I don't think 'it reminds me of my husband too much when you call me that' would be a good thing to blurt out to him right now.

"I just don't like it. It makes me feel like a six year old." I shrug my shoulders and he chuckles softly.

"Okay, so, Rosalie then?"

"Yeah, Rosalie." I glance down at my hand where my wedding ring usually glimmers in any lighting and find myself disappointed when seeing the bare skin of my ring finger. I removed the ring earlier only hours after meeting Carson-- deciding that if I really was going to try and make a good impression on this guy, a wedding ring would probably cause a few complications.

My mind has been repeatedly wandering to the expensive and meaningful piece of jewelry sitting in my purse, but I don't allow myself to put it back on, even though I feel naked without it. In the last four years I've made it a habit to do everything with it on besides showering. I even sleep with the ring on just so that I have the reassurance that if Harry isn't always there with me, at least some reminder of him is.

"Well, Rosalie, should we head back inside? I don't want you to freeze out here." Carson asks from across the balcony, still smiling at me. He's always smiling. It's refreshing, but almost too much at this point.

"Sure." I stand up from the chair I've been sat in and smooth my dress out on my body. Carson offered me some clothes to change into so I wouldn't have to sit around in my dress, but I figured wearing his clothes around on the first night I met him would make this too real. I was trying to make Harry jealous, but I wasn't trying to end up in bed with someone.

As we step back into his warm apartment and head over to the couch instead, I stop by my purse on the table and pull out my phone. A message and a missed call from Harry light up on the screen, making me feel even more guilty. I assumed he found someone to go home with too and that he wouldn't be checking up on me.