Accepting his praise felt wrong when she knew she hadn't gone into the profession with the same noble intentions as most other healers. For her, the sense of accomplishment when she successfully helped others was secondary to the freedom such an occupation provided her. The Hunnifords weren't so far from the 'proper' path that they would have allowed her to follow her passion into academia. That they'd permitted her to become a healer at all was a miracle in itself, so when she laid suffocating in the bedroom that had been hers her entire life but was hers no longer, Rosalie had chosen the only escape she could fathom: healing.

The endlessly long hours were a help too in the early days of her split, as they provided limitless distractions from the aching wound inside her heart. There was always another patient to see, another case to study, another exam to pass. And, as the time dragged on, healing others had become important, too.

However, to voice as much whilst surrounded by so many was a treacherous idea, and so Rosalie briefly nodded her thanks before hiding that too in her glass of champagne. Perhaps some day she would reveal the entirety of her motivations to him, at a Halloween ball next time. Strangely enough, Rosalie almost hoped that opportunity would come to fruition.

"Do you think you're happier because of it?" His change of plans were obviously as unintentional as her own, but there had to be a silver lining in the clouds somewhere, right? The world couldn't have ceased to spin for them both so that they lived solely in misery, for fate wasn't meant to be that cruel.

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