Over the years, Rose has learned how to be self-reliant. Her childhood had been lonely and unforgiving to Rose. However, she survived coming out the other end as a strong-willed and intelligent young woman.
After a series of bad choices, Rose's fami...
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Darlo was pacing, and he had been doing that an awful lot nowadays. Sometimes he wonders if the floor beneath him would deteriorate and suck him beneath the surface, but that was wishful thinking on his part. Finally, he decided and headed out of his room down the stairs.
Once again, the house was quiet, but he didn't dwell on that for too long. He grabbed his keys and walked towards the door leading to the garage. Once he was set off for his destination, he tried to fiddle with the radio or adjust his seating, but he couldn't shake the uncertainty that settled over him like a weighted blanket.
But he kept on and pressed on the gas. Soon he was on a more secluded road. His tires hit the gravel. If he didn't know any better, this was a red flag shouting to turn around. But he kept going; he had a gun in the glove box and would be taking it inside. The house came into view, and he got out of the car to open the gate. The lawn was tamed, and bushes were cut. It was picture-perfect, making him feel even worse about never visiting.
All of the things he could have found out if she just went to the damn house. Not shy away from the love of his life and the possibility that she left him. He was afraid of the heartbreak the type that would pick him apart and leave him bare. But running does nothing but wear you down.
He drove towards the end of the driveway. When his feet carried him onto the front towards the door, his nerves started to get the best of him. No cars were here, and it was quiet. He grasped the doorknob and turned, relieved to find it unlocked. When he walked in, it was exactly like when he saw it first.
Clean and pristine but no longer feeling haunted. More heartbreaking now that the storm settled, and everyone was gathering themselves. He hoped that this would be a part of his grieving, a closing of a chapter or a fucking book. The file he found in Rose's room when Lucifer went out and returned reeking of alcohol showed the address on a slip of paper.
He memorized the address when he was younger—having the courtesy to talk to Josephine's father maybe for a blessing. When he came back defeated, he realized that he shouldn't care for his approval. Someone who couldn't bother to protect his daughter shouldn't have any say in what she does.
Darlo walked up the stairs and made a b-line to the left down the hall. When he stops in front of a door taunting him and almost shattering every last bit of him, that's still pieced together. Yet again, he hesitantly stepped into a threshold that he may never walk out of. The weight of his gun was heavier than usual in the back of his pants.
He might have been crazy, but he swears that her perfume still lingered. Darlo could hear her laugh, look through her memories. It was like he stepped into the world of Josephine. When he first visited, Josephine tried to warn him that it was childish and felt like a safe place. The walls were a pale blue, with white furniture and splashes of color every so often.
Clothes were still strewn across the room, and the books on the shelf started collecting dust. Pictures that littered the wall in an unorganized fashion almost brought a smile to his face. When his eyes caught another picture his heart could have stopped, but it kept beating much to his dismay.
It was him. On their first official 'date,' even though he had already announced to the world that they were engaged, he might as well get the girl flowers and a nice meal. His whole family, even his brothers, were gentlemen. It was what their mother taught them but also taught them to save it for the right woman.
When she punched him in the face, she might have given him brain damage causing him to fall madly in love with the anomaly of Josephine. In the picture, Josephine kissed him on the cheek while Darlo held the camera with hesitance. Josephine insisted he had to take the picture since his arms were longer, and it would catch her good side.
He followed up with the cheesy line of 'all your sides are good sides,' even though it was very predictable it was sincere, and she knew that, which caused a blush to cover her cheeks. That might have been when he truly gave in to his feelings.
The feeling of love filling his heart and convincing his brain that she was the sun, and everything revolved around her. Darlo reached behind him, pulling the gun from the back of his pants, and walked towards the bed sitting on the edge. The sheets were clean, surprisingly, but everything else was like a museum kept untouched.
The gun was weighing him down with options he felt so selfish to consider. Everything in him was telling him to do it. To calm the shattering of his heart and the pounding in his temples. His wife, his daughter, what's next? What else will be taken away from him, he thought.
His hand latched onto the handle and started raising it, but something caught his eye. Every once in a while, Josephine would stay the night here, to feel close to her Mom. They helped decorate the house and this room especially. Once her mother died, no one lived here. Darlo's best guess was that the cowards couldn't live with the guilt and left the family home.
Another picture was at the hospital when Darlo nearly passed out. He prides himself on his unflinching reaction to pain, but holy fuck, he couldn't fathom what was happening. Gavino was happening right at that moment. Josephine and Darlo had their first child.
Right at that moment, his eyes settled on that picture. He was sure he heard the last crack, the final piece of him broken. There was nothing of his heart to preserve. The gun fell to the floor with a thud, and tears flooded his eyes.
How could he do that to his boys, to the kids he seemed to be collecting in his home like baseball cards. Darlo might have been almost one of the most powerful men in the world, but that didn't stop him from feeling like the weakest.
Silent sobs racked his body, and he hung his head in shame. In his moment of weakness, he felt alone, and he truly was.
When he found himself walking out the room, taking both pictures with him stuffed in his pocket. He no longer wanted to be in this house. It felt suffocating. When he walked out the front door, he stopped in his tracks, seeing a car parked next to his.
He instinctively reached for the gun in the back of his pants but then stopped at who he saw in front of him. At first, he thought it was his imagination, but that was cleared up from the words she rushed out.
"It's not your imagination. I'm here, and please let me explain. It's not nearly as bad as you may think. Also, I could use some fatherly advice right now,"
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A/N sorry for the wait, but things are looking up even though this chapter was oddly depressing.
