Chapter 45

• Rosalina's POV
• The moment the heavy door of my master bedroom clicks shut, the vast, echoing quiet of the suite settles over me like a suffocating weight. I toss my car keys onto the dresser and pace across the floor, but my mind refuses to rest. In the stillness of the room, the image of Rosalina standing in my office earlier today flashes vividly behind my eyelids. More specifically, the memory of that faint, irritated pink patch stretching across her pale skin comes rushing back to haunt me.
• A sharp, unfamiliar knot of unease twists tightly in my gut. I run a hand through my hair, exhaling a frustrated breath as I look at my phone. I hesitate for a long, agonizing moment, my pride violently warring with my guilt. Finally, I decide to magnanimously set aside our bitter differences for the night and send her a direct message. It is a massive concession on my part.