I do not own Twilight.
"So." Rosalie glances at me from the driver's seat, her long hair blowing from the open window. "Did you tell him you dumped trashy Mike?"
I smile despite myself. "Yes."
"How did he take it? Did he beg you to take him back?"
I look over at her and frown. "No, Rose. He didn't."
She doesn't answer and I feel badly after a moment for my short tone. It shouldn't surprise me, her tactless matter-of-fact words. It's how Rosalie is. She says what's on her mind. Sometimes, I wish I could be more like her.
"He knew about my wrist," I sigh.
That gets her attention. She pulls off her sunglasses so she can look at me better.
"How?"
I shrug. "He always knows things. I don't know how." Without thinking, a slow grin pulls at my mouth. "I used to think he could read my mind."
Rosalie is studying me carefully and I know she can see the difference in my disposition. "I take it the visitation went well?"
"Yeah," I say quietly, staring back out through the windshield. The small grin is still just barely noticeable.
"You seem…optimistic," Rose points out.
I shrug again and bite my lip. "He told me he's trying."
"Trying what?"
"Everything," I say and then let out a breath. "To control his anger, to control his possessiveness. He…I don't know, Rose. He seems…changed. Calmer, almost."
"You think it's the therapy?" she asks, pursing her lips.
"I don't know. I mean, I'm sure it helps."
"Yeah, but I bet you do, too."
I don't say anything, because I don't know what to say. I don't want to say that she's right, because I don't think she is. At least, not completely. I definitely didn't help in the beginning. I definitely didn't help when I brought Mike along.
"I mean, think about it," Rose says after a while, realizing I wasn't going to say anything. "This kid fell in love with you the second he met you, was desperate for you even while you dated. You were there for him through so much, and now…it's like you're there for him again. I think jail does a lot for some people—for the small crimes, I mean." She flips her hair, glancing over at me once we reach a red light. "Like, when my Uncle went to jail for possession… He doesn't even touch drugs now. He doesn't even want to talk about them."
Her blue eyes are wide, excited.
"What if he's not like that when he gets out? What if he goes back to the way he was?" I wonder quietly.
Rose shrugs and then moves forward as the light turns green. "As long as he sticks with what he should do—therapy, and all that, he'll probably be okay." She smiles to herself, happy with her advice. If only it was that easy.
I purse my lips and stare out the window because I know it's not going to be that simple. He has a lot of obstacles to get through before he's okay, whatever that means.
The first and foremost is his father.