Page 79 of Waiting Game

After we spoke the other night, I remembered a conversation that I once had with your father that I think might be of some help to you.

I know that you didn’t believe that he ever spoke fondly of you, and I’m now kicking myself for not remembering this earlier.

I think you would have been about eleven or twelve, and were fighting with your mother. Your father commented to me that you would be a handful, and impossible to tame - and therefore would make a terrible wife. He laughed and shook his head and said, “she’s not like us.”

He was quiet for a while after this, but then he sighed and turned towards me and confessed something.

“God, I hope she never changes.”

The reason I recognised you so quickly was not just because of your name, but also your spirit. I understand that you had a difficult relationship with your father, and you probably would not enjoy hearing it - but you reminded me of him. He too, was never afraid to speak his mind, or let someone know that he was displeased. He too, was always eager to help people, even if it was not in a respectable way such as you.

I hope that this small reminder of where you came from can help you find peace with yourself.

I hope that you allow yourself to be proud of who you are, and I hope that you’re able to find happiness.

Andreas.

I choked out a sob, and I felt Evelyn’s hand quickly on my back.

The whole conversation could have been made up for all I knew, but the possibility of it rattled me. I shook my head and stood, rushed towards my bag and stuffed the letter inside of it. Evelyn called out for me, I could hear her voice echo through the ward as I ran out of the hospital and to my car. The tears didn’t stop on the drive home, my head felt like it was spinning and I had to put in extra effort to concentrate on the road.

When I finally got home, I climbed the steps two at a time and fumbled with the keys at the front door. I was panting and out of breath as I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, looking at the still half-packed bag of clothes on my bed. The sight caused something to snap within me, and someone else took over my decision making. I looked around my apartment, and shook my head at the sight.

This was not my home.

As much as I tried to force myself to fit here, I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I took a deep breath and zipped the suitcase, throwing it down the stairs and then into the trunk of my car. I drove straight to the airport, and purchased a one way ticket to Melbourne.

* * *

My heart was noticeably pounding in my chest the whole flight, but this time not because of nerves or dread. Never in my life had I felt so sure of something.

I second-guessed every decision, I fumbled through every choice that I had made up until now. Though it was simple, something in Andreas’ letter hit me like a tonne of bricks. It flipped a switch in my head that I didn’t know was there.

This was my family.

It was me.

And Ren was the man that I loved.

I didn’t care anymore about appearing like a good person for the sake of others. Pete had ruined any illusion of what a truly good person looked like for me. How could I look at Ren, or Antoni, and say that they were bad?

They were the best men that I had ever known, and they always had been.

My stubborn ass tried to paint them as bad guys, when logically I knew that they were my favourite people in the world. In one day, everything that I thought I cared about washed away. For ten years I had tried to squeeze and mould myself into the life that I thought that I should want. I had spent so much time denying to myself what I actually wanted.

And that was Ren.

I knew that there would be backlash and suspicion surrounding my return. For a long time, I had done a lot of things just to avoid the words “I told you so.” I didn’t want to be wrong, I didn’t want to prove that my parents were right.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

I could push my ego aside for a while if it meant that I could be with Ren.

The plane landed, and I grabbed my bag off of the conveyor belt and rushed towards the exit. I had wasted ten years being without him, and I didn’t want to wait another second. I stepped out into the cool air of Melbourne, and looked around.

“Valerie Santino?”

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