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Being a woman didn’t obligate her to make men—or anyone—comfortable in her presence.
“I have great faith in your allure.” His smile faltered, and his cheeks turned ruddy. “When it comes to teaching, I mean.”
“Rose, my dearest, Barton may no longer be your husband, but we still consider you our daughter. Please let us help you.”
History is written by those in power, but those deprived of power deserve to be seen too.
“And women often get cast as villains for trying to be the heroes of their own stories, so better to embrace the role from the start. Make it your own.”
“There’s a lot of black clothing for women my size, but most of it was created to facilitate the disappearance of the woman wearing it. To erase her from sight in apology for her existence as a fat woman. That’s not the kind of black clothing I wear. Mine has metallic accents. Bold lines. Quality fabrics. Good tailoring. All unmistakable markers that I’m not apologizing or looking to disappear.”
Swallow enough hurt in silence, and the pain either chokes you or curdles into gut-deep rage.
The sight of Rose herself nearly hurt his eyes, she was so fucking beautiful.
“She may try to appear impervious to hurt, but she’s not.” Annette patted his hand, then removed hers. “Cause her pain, and we’ll make quite certain you regret it.” “So much regret.” Alfred offered him a genial smile. “The sort of regret that would cause a man to rethink all his critical life choices to that point.”
“Oh, Alfred.” Annette heaved a dreamy sigh, scooting her chair close to her husband’s so she could rest her head on his shoulder. “Did you hear that? Unequivocal. He’s a nerd, just like her.”
😅
“Where’s my cane, darling?” he asked Annette, his voice feeble. “I’ll go talk to the server about how much each meal cost, even though my leg hurts so much.”
She clutched her spine as she inched up from the chair. “Pass me my pain pills, would you, Martin? They’re in my purse.” Another mournful glance his way. “Sometimes extreme disappointment makes my back seize.”
“Sometimes he needs stuff in the middle of the night. He gets sooo thirsty, Ms. Owens, and he has to take his muscle relaxants and ibuprofen at certain times. Is there any way you can stay there tonight? It would really ease my mind.”
Bea is playing her like an instrument
“No need to apologize. It’s kind of fun to see buttoned-up Mr. Krause undone.” Wait! That was what he needed to say. “Want to see you undone.”
“Sweet dreams, Martin.” In a blind grab, he caught her hand. “Dream of you.”
“You could call us more often, though. We know you’re busy with the school year, but we miss your voice.” “And we are getting quite old,” Alfred added. Annette’s hunch reappeared. “Also feeble.” “Quite, quite feeble.” He raised his voice. “Rogers, my cane!” The butler hovered near the door. “Sir, you don’t own a cane.” “Then find me one.” Alfred nodded in gratitude. “Thank you, Rogers.”
“You’re an eager pupil,” she teased. He grinned, his stride loose and confident. “From now on, I plan to live every week like it’s Teacher Appreciation Week.”
😬
