Page 32 of Waiting Game

I looked around and the house hadn’t changed a bit. Maybe I had expected that things would change once Rome moved in, but nothing was different at all.

It was still an office, more than a home.

It was crowded with faces and movement. Men who were slouched over couches in deep conversation gave me looks of suspicion as I scanned the place, looking for anybody familiar.

“Boss isn’t here at the moment, but you’re welcome to wait,” the guy said.

“Val?” Rome stuck her head out from the dining room.

“Hi,” I went quickly to her, relieved to see a friendly face.

“How are you? You disappeared the other night, I thought you had gone back home,” she frowned.

“That’s actually why I’m here,” I said quietly.

She nodded once, and dismissed everyone from the room.

They shuffled out quickly, leaving us alone.

“What’s up?” she asked, the concern plain on her face.

“My flight home isn’t for a few days. But I need to get out of here. I was looking for Antoni to see if he would loan me some money to get back.”

Her expression softened and her shoulders dropped.

“Of course, Val. Done,” she said, walking over to her bag and pulling out her wallet.

I looked up to the ceiling, rolling my eyes at myself.

How pathetic did this make me look to Rome?

“So first you ruin her wedding, then you come begging for money?” Mum’s voice popped up behind me.

“She didn’t ruin my wedding, Vera. It was a perfect night,” Rome ignored her jab, and handed me a large wad of cash from her wallet.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Mum asked, folding her arms, “I would have given you the money.”

I scoffed, “anything to get rid of me, right?”

“Valerie, you’re the one who left. You can’t blame everyone else for your bad decisions,” she softened her tone though it only made me angrier.

“Bad decisions? What makes you think it was a bad decision? My life is great. I have a great job, and a fiance who loves me,” I snapped.

I fucked up.

I knew that I had just fucked up.

Why can’t you just keep your mouth shut, Valerie?

“A fiance?” she put a hand to her chest, “you get engaged and don’t tell your mother?”

“We haven’t spoken in years! And before you ask, no - he’s not Italian, and he’s not a family associate. He’s a normal person, a normal doctor that I work with, and he’s a good person.”

“Hmm,” she smiled a little, “and yet, you left with Lorenzo last night.”

It was as if she had slapped me.

“No, I didn’t,” I crossed my arms.

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