Page 51 of Waiting Game

“I just thought you would’ve been sick of it by now.”

If he had asked me just a day ago, I would have agreed with him.

There were a few beats of silence.

“Come home to me, Ree,” he said softly, “we can sit down and work everything out.”

I sighed.

I had been begging for months for us to talk, for us to work out our problems. But he always thought that I was impossible to talk to. That I didn’t listen to him, that I just liked confrontation. I was too emotional, and he just wanted me to be logical and rational - just like him.

When I broke it off, suddenly all he wanted to do was talk.

“I miss you,” he choked.

“I’ll be home soon, okay? Then we can talk.”

Rome opened the door and sat beside me on the step.

“I have to go, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ree, don’t hang u-” he said, but I hung up on him and turned around to look at Rome.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rome said, sitting on the step next to me.

“No,” I chuckled, “I’m glad you did.”

She laughed, “the doctor bugging you to come home?”

I nodded.

“I just wanted to check in on you,” she said, “today has been a lot for all of us. But we’re a little more used to it than you.”

“I’m okay,” I shrugged, “just worried.”

“About Ren?”

“About everyone,” I gestured towards the house, “how am I supposed to feel okay about leaving, knowing this is what my brothers deal with regularly? I mean, what if it’s Antoni next time? Or Sammy?”

She took a deep breath and then shrugged, “I don’t know how to answer that, Val.”

I looked down.

“This is our life, you know. We don’t know anything different.”

“How do you deal with it?” I asked her.

She shrugged again, “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just always lived in survival mode, you know? I’m used to always checking over my shoulder, always waiting for the next threat.”

I nodded. I knew a little about Rome’s past, and her hard life. I knew that she was a foster kid, and grew up mostly on the streets, but other than that I had no idea about the things that she had been through.

But she was strong, much stronger than I was.

I thought that boxing and self defence training would keep me prepared, but when it came down to it, the little skills that I did have were useless. I wasn’t like these people, I was too soft for it all.

It was always an inkling that I had, that I wasn’t built for this life. I wasn’t like the rest of my family who seemed comfortable and brave even though there was always some sort of feud happening. Even my mother, who was always under threat from my father’s enemies, never showed any fear.

I was scared of a lot of things.

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