Chapter 8 - Flowers of Antimony
“Sure. Let’s do something impossible.”
Need to catch up? Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7
Please note that there are subjects and themes in this book that some readers might prefer to approach with forewarning, or not at all. These include relationship trauma, self-harm, suicide, death/dying, swearing, and sexual content.
Rosalie availed herself of Leon’s toothbrush, washed her face with a soft towel and the hottest water she could stand, then finally climbed into the bed, fully clothed, at about seven in the morning. She fell unconscious only moments after wrapping her arms around a pillow and stretching out beneath the plush covers. Sleep pulled her under for almost ten hours, allowing her to resurface briefly, and only once, when she became dimly aware that the mattress had shifted with the weight of Leon joining her.
Ballsy, she thought, before being drawn back down.
At 5:22 PM, Rosalie woke up. She became aware by degrees of how rested she felt, how dim the light was in the bedroom, and how keenly she sensed Leon’s presence beside her. When she was sure that sleep was done with her, she opened her eyes to see Leon lying on his side, facing her. And though his eyes were closed, she knew he wasn’t asleep. It was in his breathing. Too shallow. Several years ago, a few bad months of insomnia had plagued Rosalie during which she’d gotten to know every detail and form of Leon’s easy sleep. Here was the breathing of someone awake, but not yet ready to get up.
“Leon, did you get any sleep at all?” she mumbled with her face pressed to the pillow. He opened his eyes, appearing to be quite awake, but sounding groggy.
“Enough. You were out. How do you feel?”
“Like if I stayed here long enough I’d get back to sleep pretty easily, but other than that, good. You? Get all the orders filled?”
“Yeah. And then some,” he said with a smile, rolling onto his back and stretching to grab something from his side table. It occurred to Rosalie that she might’ve stayed up with him to help. The work would’ve gone twice as fast, and Leon could’ve gotten more sleep. There it was again, that guilt. It was taking on a sting that she almost enjoyed.
Rosalie shifted, pushing herself up and folding herself into a position that was less conducive to falling back asleep: legs crossed, one elbow resting on the side of one knee, chin in palm. Leon found whatever it was he’d been searching for and held out a necklace. Two fine gold chains were looped over his index finger. One ran through the loop on a golden medallion engraved with the symbol of a sun - a gift that Leon had given her when they been dating - abandoned when she left him. The other chain ran through a tiny hole in a smaller golden coin. It looked just like the one they’d created, and then un-created, earlier that day.
“Here. This one started out as scandium. I whipped it up a few hours ago.”
Rosalie gave him a crooked smile.
“Scandium? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It has the lowest atomic number of all the transition metals. That makes it the least pure, as far as alchemy is concerned, which means that in order to get it to gold you need a very strong promise. I was testing that idea by starting with silver before. But this time…”
Something in his voice erased the smile from her face. Rosalie thought he was weighing his thoughts before he spoke them. Looking for the worthiness of each word before offering it to her. She didn’t dare ask what kind of promise he’d made. As it turned out, she didn’t need to.
“I gave it the promise that I’d never lie to you again, Rosie. Here. Now you’ll always know. You’ll always have proof.”
Rosalie momentarily lost her ability to speak. She took the necklace and laid it across her left palm, staring at it. The two gold medallions clinked together delicately.
Leon continued.
“Knowing you, I kindly request that you don’t abuse it.”
The admonition brought her powers of speech flooding back, and a surge of questions rushed to her lips.
“Why did you lie to me in the first place? Why didn’t you tell me that you’d made that deal with Gladwell?”
Leon heaved a great sigh but didn’t actually seem to be upset with her pouncing onto the forbidden fruit he’d literally just asked her to avoid. He lay there, hands folded on his chest, and met her intense gaze.
“Alright. Let’s get it out of your system. I lied to you because I knew you’d either talk me out of it or threaten to leave me. I didn’t tell you about the deal with Gladwell because I thought that if it was too late to turn back, you’d find a way to forgive me for what I did.”
Rosalie felt an uneasy sensation in her body. The gold coin remained, and as Leon’s answers sunk in, some thick band of tension around her heart snapped.
Is this what it feels like to be drunk with power? She wondered, letting her curiosities and insecurities take the floor.
“Did you date anyone while we were separated?”
“No.” The obvious hurt in his voice almost made her change tactic. But it felt so good to be able to ask, knowing she’d only get the truth.
Rosalie’s gaze flashed back and forth, from the coin to Leon. Other than the furrow in his brow he was calm.
“Did you want to?” Rosalie asked.
“No, Rosie.” Again, his voice was tinged with an unmistakable pain.
“Did you sleep with anyone?” she pressed.
“No. I never even considered it. Rosie…”
“What’s the real reason you never agreed to adopt a cat?”
Leon paused. “I thought that if you had a cat to dote on, you wouldn’t want to have kids.”
There were questions for days, piling up in Rosalie’s skull like a traffic jam. She could’ve spent the next several hours digging up every doubt, jealousy, and fear from the shadowy corners of her heart and showing them to him, asking for a blessing of truth to wash those wounds clean. Or she could get to the crux of things.
“Do you still love me?”
His answer came without delay.
“Yes.”
One down, one to go, she thought. C’mon, find your spine, girl.
Rosalie took a deep breath.
“Okay. And can you forgive me?”
Leon blinked rapidly, and asked, genuinely perplexed. “For what?”
Rosalie started shaking, staring down at the coin and trying to will her tears to dry before they could spill.
“For running away. For not even trying.”
“I never blamed you for that. But, yes. I forgive you, Rosie.”
Leon held out a hand to her, palm up, and she pressed her right hand to his. The necklace still rested in her left. She imprisoned the charms in a closed fist. Unsurprisingly, the new coin hadn’t let off even a whisper of smoke during the interrogation. For a long time they were silent while Rosalie composed herself. When she’d found it in her power to look at him again, Leon spoke.
“I want you to come back. If you can. If you’re ready. And if you’re not, I’ll understand. But I want us to get back to living.”
Rosalie swallowed hard. Amid all her demands, he’d been honest. Not only that, but he hadn’t requested anything from her in return. Technically, he still wasn’t.
“I’ll try,” she whispered.
He squeezed her hand and Rosalie heard him exhale. He’d been holding his breath, waiting for that answer.
“Rosalie Keller, if you’re done with the alchemical polygraph then we should probably get moving.” He spoke gently, pulling himself into a seated position and leaning over to kiss her forehead.
There was no urge to pull away anymore. No resentment. She leaned into the physical contact and sighed when she felt his hand at the back of her neck. Rosalie sensed that they were at a tipping point. They could either both fall back into bed and bridge the gap between their bodies and the months of separation, or they could take it slowly.
Rosalie opted to listen to the voice of reason, which whispered that there was plenty of time. Her consent to stay didn’t mean rushing forward, or ignoring the past. It only meant she was choosing to finally process it. And that could be done by degrees. Their trauma wasn’t a Polaroid, after all. Rosalie leaned back and nodded.
“Sure. Let’s do something impossible.”
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