Rose POV

I hated Meredith.

As I laid in bed, unable to find any rest, I decided I hated her. She was the reason I was up.

Are you sure you aren't in love with this guy?

I groaned and rolled onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut. Of course, as soon as I did that, all I saw was Dimitri—a soft half-smile and a fond look in his eyes. It was ridiculous. Before Meredith said something, I never would have thought about it.

Now, I couldn't stop.

I didn't love Dimitri—I refuse to even accept that possibility—but I did like him. I couldn't deny that. My issue was I didn't know if I really liked him or if it was just because he was nice to me. After years of being ignored or given only side eyes full of judgement, I finally had someone who treated me like a normal person. Of course, I was clinging on. That had to be all it was, and Meredith just made me face that reality.

It couldn't be anything else.

I opened my eyes and stared at the unopened bottle of pills on my side table. They were a new prescription from Deirdre after what happened with the wine. I told Dimitri they didn't do anything—it was mostly true. While the medication didn't get rid of the ghosts, it made me numb to them and everything else in the world. Every month, I picked up the refills as if I needed them. The bottle should be empty by next week, and I would have to get a new bottle and act like it helped.

Dimitri would go with me and see me getting medication for my delusions.

How could anyone fall in love with the supposed crazy girl?

My feelings for Dimitri were only a crush, and they couldn't be anything else.

I climbed out of my bed and picked up the bottle of pills, squeezing the cap until the plastic rim dug into my fingers painfully. I opened the small metal bin in my bathroom, holding the bottle over it.

Just two more years left of living in pretence, then I would be free from my parents' hold. No more therapy appointments. No more medications. And no more bodyguards.

Dimitri was kind to me because Abe paid him an insane amount of money to put up with me.

It couldn't be anything else. Ever.

The bottle landed with a clang in the bottom of the bin, and I closed the lid.

The weekend passed, and it was Monday again, and I was back in front of Deirdre. I watched Mason wander the room, trying to knock anything he could over. It wasn't going well.

"How has the new medication been going?" Deirdre asked after a moment of silence, her hands clasped together over her notepad. "Any reactions?"

I pressed my lips together, thinking of the bottle discarded in my bathroom. "No reactions so far. I think they are working," I lied with a smile on my lips.

That made her sit up in her chair, head tilted to the side. "Really? How so?"

Books fell to the ground with a thump, making her jump in her seat; a hand clutched her chest in surprise. I tried not to laugh at the look of triumph on Mason's face as he fist-bumped the air. Deirdre got out of her seat to pick the books up and placed them back on her desk with a furrowed brow.

She sat back down with a bewildered look but quickly schooled her features to her usual mask of indifference. "Where were we? Oh, yes. Your medication is working?" Deirdre picked up her pen and set her eyes on me expectantly.

"Yep," I replied gleefully. "Honestly, I think that we've finally found the right combination. I can't see any more figments of my imagination." I made sure to use her words.

Deirdre's lips twitched, pressed together into a thin line, and I knew I was pushing her buttons. She brushed the material of her skirt and shifted to cross one knee over the other. "You know that I'm just trying to help you, Rose. Lying to me won't help you get better."

I sighed dramatically. "You're right. They aren't doing anything, but I wanted to give you a win for once. Maybe one day you'll fix me." I gave her a look of pity that made her bristle.

The egg timer on her desk dinged and I was finally free.

I continued to feign caring as I stood up, clasping my hands together. "Don't give up hope, Deirdre. I'm sure, eventually, you'll prove you're worth all the money my parents pay you."

Mason chuckled as I left, and I had a smile on my face as the door closed behind me.

Dimitri set the cup of hot chocolate in front of me and dropped into the chair opposite me. He liked to sit with his back in the corner and faced the door; sometimes I would watch him survey the room with keen eyes. I bet he could tell me all of the emergency exits and where my closest weapon is. He never spoke of his service in the military, but it seemed some habits never left him.

I crossed my arms and leaned on the table, dropping my chin to rest on them. It had become a habit to stop in the coffee shop after my appointment; it always took my mind off what Deirdre had said during the forty-five-minute session. I never drank coffee unless I was desperate, but I did enjoy the smell and the warm atmosphere of the cafe.

Dimitri sipped from his cup, happy to sit in silence while I worked through my thoughts. Though the last session wasn't too bad, I still had a lot on my mind—mainly about him.

It was bad, but I was checking him out, peering up at him when his focus was elsewhere, and admired him. I wasn't joking with Meredith about getting lost in his eyes. I used to just write it off as me observing him, but now, I'd admit, it was more than that.

It didn't change my goal though.

My eyes flicked to his cup, and a smile formed on my lips. "The barista likes you," I announced, glancing over my shoulder at the petite blonde behind the counter. Dimitri raised a brow at me, and I pointed at his cup. "She drew a heart next to your name."

He examined the cup and then reached for mine, twisting it around for me to see. "She put one on yours too."

I frowned at the scribbled heart above my name and ignored it, snatching my cup from his hand. "You should ask her out."

"No."

"I'll introduce you if you're shy."

Dimitri rolled his eyes and finished the rest of his drink. "What do you want to do today?" he changed the subject and gave me a look so I wouldn't keep pushing.

I reclined and stared out the large window; it had started snowing, small flurries floating down from the dark clouds. Mason and Ivan were outside, talking to the group of workers that lingered outside. After yelling at each other for five minutes, they became best friends.

I turned back to Dimitri and propped my head up with my hand. "Well, I can't do any of my usual fun things. So, time for plan B."

Dimitri's eyes narrowed at my words—he could guess what my usual fun was. "What's plan B?" he asked.

"Cooking."

His eyebrows raised. "That's plan B?"

"More like plan H. I blame the weather," I nodded out the window where the snow started to stick to the sidewalk.

Dimitri leaned closer, mirroring my position, and asked, "Can you cook?"

I shrugged. "More or less."

"What's the less?"

"That I can't cook."

His eyes danced with amusement. "What's the more?"

"Google."

Dimitri laughed, and I preened knowing I made him smile.

After a quick stop at the store, we were in the kitchen, and Dimitri sat at the island like he was ready to watch a show. I was determined to make something half decent and scrolled through the recipe I found online. It was straightforward enough.

Or so I thought.

"That didn't go as planned," Dimitri frowned, eyes following the trail of flour that had managed to get on the floor, cupboards, and the ceiling. I grimaced, wondering how I would clean it. Dimitri noted my face and chuckled. "I'll help you get it."

"Are you going to stand me on your shoulders?" I joked, and he nudged me with his elbow. I managed to cover us both in flour as well; I knew now not to add ingredients when the whisk was moving. And not to have the whisk on high. And not to dump almost half a bag of flour in the mixing bowl.

We ended up with more banana bread than I had intended and had the four loaves in the oven cooking. Dimitri helped me clean while we waited for the timer to go off. I tried not to think about the fact it was the closest I had felt to normal in years.

"So what about the weather made you want to cook?" he questioned as we moved about the kitchen. Helping me clean the ceiling meant giving me a damp mop and giving me a hand up onto the kitchen island.

I looked down at him and laughed at the fact I was taller than him for once. If I wanted, I could easily lean down and kiss him.

I stilled.

What the fuck am I thinking?

My eyes lingered on his lips and I was suddenly plagued with questions about how kissing him would feel. Dimitri's lips looked soft. He was caring and thoughtful with everything else, I could imagine he would be the same when kissing. I bet he would cup the back of my head and tilt my mouth up to better slot against his. Dimitri would leave me breathless and wanting more.

"Rose?"

I blinked at Dimitri and spun on my heel so I wasn't staring at his mouth anymore. "Um…" I stuttered, shaking my head to clear the totally inappropriate thoughts from my mind. "Because it's cold."

It was a weak explanation and made Dimitri chuckle. "Okay?"

"The timer is about to go off," Mason piped up, sitting on the counter kicking his feet. He wore a pout and kept glaring daggered into Dimitri's back.

"It's time," I announced and jumped down from the island, busying myself opening the oven, and not looking at Dimitri. Sure enough, as soon as I gripped the pan with an oven mitt, the timer on his phone rang. Dimitri crossed to his phone and stood there for a moment.

"Good guess," he replied softly.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him again, but that didn't matter. As soon as I thought about kissing him, it set something off, because I was suddenly aware of him in a way I wasn't before. The space between the oven and the island was too small.

Dimitri smelt of pine, and it was intense when he stepped beside me to examine the pans. The heat that rolled off his body shouldn't be possible. The man was practically a furnace. He hummed in approval and I found myself shivering at the deep tones of his voice.

I slapped my cheeks.

"Everything okay?" Dimitri questioned. I made the mistake of looking up and froze—our faces were barely inches apart.

I really hated Meredith.

"I used to bake with my friends," I blurted out. "You know, before they all thought I was insane. Lissa's boyfriend did most of the cooking; it was a way to heat the house when it snowed. But when I told Lissa that I could see the ghost of her brother, she stopped talking to me. We didn't bake after that."

I didn't know why I told him that, but his expression afterwards made me realise why. Dimitri pressed his lips together and swallowed. That was why there would never be anything between us—Dimitri wouldn't say it to my face, but he thought I was crazy, just like everyone else.

It couldn't be anything.

"I'm sorry that your friends abandoned you like that. It must have been difficult," Dimitri comforted me. His tone was apologetic—void of any judgement—and so different from what I expected.

I couldn't reply. My chest constricted, and my mouth became dry. I dropped my eyes and gave a mute nod. It had been difficult—more than I could put into words without breaking down.

People gave me a bunch of reasons for why my friends were so quick to distance themselves from me after Mason died, but no one ever said they abandoned me. What hurt was that it was true—they did abandon me—and Dimitri voicing it made me want to crumble.

He made it sound like I wasn't the wrong one.

"What smells so good?" My father's voice drifted into the kitchen, followed by the tap of his leather shoes on the wooden floors. It snapped me from the breakdown I was flirting with.

"We made banana bread," I replied and stepped away from Dimitri. I needed the space to think clearly. "It just has to cool, and then you can have some." I offered my father a weak smile.

Janine abandoned me, just like my friends, but Abe didn't. He fought for me to live with him, and I forgot that sometimes.

His eyebrows inched up to his hairline. "Janine used to make banana bread," he commented nervously. "Did you get the recipe from her?"

I snorted. "Fuck no. I just looked online."

The corner of his lips twitched in a smirk. "That makes more sense. I look forward to trying some," Abe practically beamed at me. "Oh, Rose, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me on Thursday?"

I took a step back. "What's happening Thursday?" My voice was full of unease. We didn't go places together often; the last time was when Deirdre had a meeting to suggest a facility that Janine was pushing.

Blood rushed in my ears as panic filled my chest.

I don't know if Abe noticed straight away, but Dimitri did. He was beside me in two strides and had a hand on my elbow as if I was about to pass out.

"It's nothing bad," Abe quickly assured, hands held up like I was a spooked horse. He licked his lips and produced a small beige envelope from his suit jacket. "It's an invitation to a party. It's been a while since I've attended one, and I thought you might like to accompany me?"

"A party?" I repeated as I regained control of myself. I was worn from the roller coaster my emotions were on today. I took the envelope and read the contents, handwritten in a delicate script; the words cocktail party stood out to me. I didn't recognise the host's name.

"You mentioned that you wanted to get out more. So, if you would like to, you could start with this." The weight of Abe's eyes burned into me, and he added, "Dimitri can accompany you if you would like."

My cheeks heated. I became very aware that Dimitri's hand was still on my elbow.

Mason whistled from the kitchen counter, surprisingly quiet compared to usual. "A party would be a great place to introduce Dimitri to some women. You could get rid of him soon if you're lucky."

My stomach dropped. Something dark and icky grew in my chest and brought me right back to that edge of a breakdown. It was like a dance, and each spin brought me closer to tumbling over.

I pushed it all down and nodded at Mason's words. It would be the perfect place to find someone for Dimitri—or at least get more of an idea of what he was looking for. With a sense of resolve, I gave Abe a small smile. "A party sounds fun." I glanced at Dimitri but didn't meet his eyes, "You in, comrade?"

I could sense his hesitance, but his sense of duty won out. "Of course."

Abe seemed happier since I agreed to the party, and it gave me a burst of excitement, even if it was laced with unease. Parties used to be my thing; it was because of a party that Lissa, Andre, and I were on the road that night. After the accident, I tried to maintain my life of the party status, but instead, I was surrounded by the dead.

I quickly came to the realisation that I didn't have a dress, shoes, or make-up. After an awkward conversation with Abe and the four-digit pin to his credit card, I dragged Pavel around the stores while I searched for the perfect dress. I couldn't bring Dimitri, because it would just make me wonder what kind of dress he would like me in.

It was a can of worms that I didn't want to touch and pretended didn't exist.

It was still there—the feeling of liking Dimitri followed me around and wouldn't fade away. All week, I told myself that I would find Dimitri someone to date so I could fulfil Ivan's last wish. I promised I would help, and so I was—even if it made me press my nails into my palms and bite my tongue when I was tempted to tell him how I felt.

Thursday arrived, and I was filled with nerves, I didn't even listen to a word anyone said. I just stared out the window and chewed on my thumbnail as I planned how I would do my hair. The closer it got to time to leave for the party, the more anxious I got.

I stood in front of the mirror and twirled the skirt of the dress. The invite said cocktail, so I went for the perfect little black dress. It's one that I would have loved to wear to a high school dance, but my mother would have killed me for it. It was strapless and fitted close to my body before flaring at my hips and ending halfway down my thighs. I had a black lace bolero that buttoned at my collarbone. It didn't add much warmth but gave the semblance of coverage.

With my strappy heels, I wondered if it was too much.

I kept my hair simple, I pinned one side, and let the rest hang over one shoulder. My make-up was even more simple, with just enough to be noticeable. It had been so long since I wore any, that putting on more felt like a weight on my skin.

I definitely wouldn't be catching anyone's eye, but it would have to do.

A knock at my door told me I couldn't keep staring at myself for much longer. It was time to try to remember what it was like to be in a room of normal people—and I needed to act like one too.

I took a deep breath and smoothed down the lines of my dress. "You will be normal tonight, Rose. Don't fuck it up."