3. Dead of Alive (Part 2)

Rose's POV:

Receiving no response from me, he continued with an even more miserable expression, as if his life depended on this conversation with the way his shoulders slumped.

"Rose, you were too young, too emotionally tender. They also told me about the incidents with you. We didn't know if my presence would do you any good or just more damage; it was a risk not worth taking. So we decided that my presence would be kept from you until you were mature and stable enough. So I waited." His face revealed the truth behind his words.

Who were the 'we' he kept mentioning? Was my aunt involved in this too? Did she know all along? 

It was all too much to take in.

He says he did this for me, hid from me to give me a chance to live with as much peace of mind as an orphaned girl could have.

He was my only family left, aside from my aunt. But then... I was also his only family left. 

All this time, at least I had my aunt, a friend, someone to talk to.

He didn't have even that. I was his only family left, yet he stayed away because he thought it was good for me.

He was probably in as much pain as I was. 

The complexity of our relationship is leaving me feeling both grateful and resentful, torn between appreciation for his intentions and frustration at his actions.

I couldn't think of what to say. 

When you're forced to confront your past and suddenly come face to face with an uncle you thought was dead, temporary dumbness is to be expected.

"You keep saying 'we'. Who is the 'we'? who told you about my struggles and... the sleep walking incidents?" I asked, loosening my posture slightly, like a newly adopted dog trying to get comfortable but still on high alert. 

I probably looked constipated, but who cares? My life is too crazy to worry about hiding digestive issues—not that I have any.

"It was your doctors observing your mental health and emotional status. You were but a child; a child can only handle so much. Nobody expected you to be completely fine." He shook his head before saying, "In fact, it'd be more worrisome if you were fine with it." He chuckled light at his own small jest before registering my unwillingness to even smile right now and straightened up.

"I'm so proud of you for facing everything with such strength." He smiled at me, but there was something he was trying to hide, something that made him feel guilty.

I knew what he was hiding.

"Sarah knew, didn't she?" I voiced my suspicion, and his face turned serious as he nodded, looking down.

I sighed.

"Rosie, your aunt didn't want to hide it from you, but she couldn't risk your well-being. She loves you as your mother would, and I love you just the same, my little Rosie."

A wave of nostalgia hit me like a freight train as soon as I heard that pet name everyone used to call me by. God, how long has it been since then. Truly it's been years. 

"I'm still the same Uncle Jakey you've always known. Please, find it in your heart to forgive me... Forgive us, Rosie." 

"I never called you uncle 'Jakey', that sounds stupid." I muttered under my breath, looking away. But his amused chuckle was answering to me that he heard me.

I sighed, feeling my resolve of not ever forgiving him for what he did to me, slowly slipping out and making me want to just let it go because although it was wrong what they did, -let's face it- it is way better to have my uncle back then not.

Jake looked to be visibly relaxed after hearing that. "I guess, you didn't." he shrugged.

Now that the shock of seeing him here wore off a bit, I managed to take a look at my surroundings.

The interior of the house was also exact replica of our old family home, just like the exterior.

Back in my hometown, in the house that once lay in ashes, now rebuilt to its former glory. Unsure whether it's a blessing or a curse to see it restored exactly as it was before. 

With my uncle's presence and the echo of my childhood nickname filling the air, memories—both sweet and bitter—flooded back, overwhelming me.

Suddenly, the house walls felt like it was closing in on me, and my breathing turned into gasps for air. 

I couldn't take it anymore; I needed fresh air, needed to think, to process everything that had happened since I stepped into this house. The same house that was supposed to be barren ashes. 

I didn't know whether to be happy that I got a piece of my past back or to feel the painful reminder that this house would never be the same. 

Nothing would ever be the same. Maybe not even Jake and I would be the same, or maybe we just needed time to adjust to the fact that we still had a part of our family left.

Yes, I needed time.

And space.

I needed to go.

Without saying anything, I turned and started walking back the way I came, quickly.

"Wait! Rose, where are you going?" His voice sounding alarmed.

Jake's question burned in my ears, and I stopped just a few steps from the front door.

I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do.

Just as I was about to say something like 'I don't know,' I saw something shiny on the small table beside me. Come to think of it, I did see a cool red Ferrari outside on the house porch.

Mmm, well maybe I do know what I'm going to do.

"Out!" was all I replied with a side glance.

His car keys folded in my left fist. It's his luck that I happen to be a very good driver.

And I walked out of the house.