Chapter Thirty Eight

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Shane must have suspected I was outside, he found me alone, my flimsy dressing gown barely wrapped around my naked body, and my right fingers clinging onto a lit cigarette. I think I was getting a little too used to the habit of smoking. I exhaled, a cloud of toxic smoke fleeting into the air above.

"There you are," he gently sang, coming behind me and snaking his arms around my waist. "I missed waking up next to you. Are you okay?" He added, before nuzzling his nose into my neck. I strangely enough felt no warmth nor desire to sink myself back into him and instead, remained almost uptight, wishing to be left alone to my thoughts.

"Heyyy, anyone home?" he teased, kissing my left ear lobe.

I flinched, gently detaching myself away from him. "I'm okay," I replied softly, stubbing my cigarette into the pale green, ceramic dish left on top of the outside table.

"You don't seem okay. Babe, what's up?" he pried.

"I told you I'm fine, Shane. I just needed some air," I said unconvincingly.

"Rose, I'm not stupid. Something's up. What is it?" he pestered, restless to know why I was acting so distant with him. "I thought we were good—"

"---Well, we're not," I snapped back.

"What do you mean, we're not? We just slept together, Rose. Am I supposed to believe it was meaningless?" he said, frustrated, running his right hand through his bedraggled locks.

I contemplated the noun 'meaningless' wondering if whether what I had convinced myself earlier was indeed true. Was it just meaningless sex? Was I right in believing I had only slept with him to settle a desire? A hunger? Or was my heart truly tied to his and wanted the affection that I had desperately craved among the time of our affair.

"Rose!" he barked, making me flinch from my daydream of thoughts. "Can you talk to me? I thought we sorted this all out yesterday. Aren't we good now?" he added, searching my eyes to try and find the answer. They must have been very readable as he sighed knowing very well, I was not denying what he suspected. "So, what? That's it?" he said.

"I don't know," I meekly said, shuffling away from the commotion and cowardly heading indoors back through the conservatory.

"Rose! Please, don't mess me around like this," he begged, following hot on pursuit.

I stopped and turned. "Shane," I began, sighing as I let the logical part of me liaise. "I'm going to be honest. I don't think there is a us. I'm not sure if I want a us. I think I want to concentrate on myself. I need this time to work out what I really want. And yes, I'm sorry but I think last night was a spur of the moment."

His face wore a thousand words. Not that I was surprised. I had completely derailed the guy from hope and shattered him to pieces with blunt honesty. "I-I just, don't know what to say," he croaked, before slapping his fist on the kitchen counter adjacent to him. "Like what the fuck, Rose. I'm supposed to accept that you're done with us? We haven't even properly begun---"

"---I just want time to focus on me. Forgodssake Shane! This is the first time in years that I've properly been single, properly been on my own and I think I want the time to discover myself. So, yes, I can't focus on us until I know who I am. All I've ever know is Nick, Nick and Rose, the pair of us since we were kids. I've never took the time to figure out what I want. I've never been selfless for me," I spat back, passionately voicing what I truly felt was clawing to be free from the shackles of my soul. "Think about it," I paused, lightening my tone, "You came into the picture, you made me realise that there's more out there in the world. You helped me realise that I was holding onto a marriage that I was desperate to keep onto out of old habit. I-I...can't understand why I don't just want to jump into your arms and set off sail into the sunset but I know...that I'm ready to discover me," I explained, feeling a heavy weight of relief disperse off my shoulders.

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