Leaving Rosie was the hardest thing I've ever done.
And I've been through tougher shit. The torture that the humans had put me through, for weeks on end? That was hard. The rigorous military training my father had put Sebastian and I through, when we were younger? Yeah, that was brutal. But walking away from her for the second time in two consecutive nights? Watching her cry? That broke me in ways nothing else ever has.
I keep telling myself that I'm doing the right thing. Even when every part of me screamed to jump out of this damned vehicle and run back into her arms. Wrap her in my arms so tight, carry her to our bedroom and lock her there, just so she would never leave me, ever again.
Because this? This is killing me.
