?? Romanogers Scenes We All Need ??

Moving On with You

She heard the urgency in his tone. She shifted in her seat. It couldn't be . . .

'It's definitely Barton. What he's done here, what he's been doing for the last few years . . . I mean, the scene that he left . . .'

She shut her eyes. The man who was meant to kill her. The man who then changed his mind, and gave her an opportunity to start again. Now, he was the killer and she had to make the choice this time. She felt another urge to cry. She hadn't cried in over 3 days, and she wasn't going to.

'I gotta tell you, there's a part of me that doesn't even want to find him.'

The silence prolonged too much. She abruptly grabbed her sandwich and put all her efforts on focusing on it, muffling a sob in between bites.

'Will you find out where he's going next?'

'We're turning him in.'

'No. I'll deal with him. It's none of their business.'

'Nat you're too clos- '

'FUCKING FIND HIM!'

She was standing up in rage. All the feelings she had bottled up, everything she didn't tell her therapist Steve made her go to every week after he had caught her doing something unimaginable and heartbreaking.

'ITS BEEN 5 YEARS! 5 YEARS SINCE I SAW HIM! SINCE HE SAW HIS FAMILY! AND NOW, HE'S FUCKING INSANE! BECAUSE OF ME! I RUINED HIS LIFE! WITH A LIFE HE SAVED FOR ME! A LIFE I WILL NEVER DESERVE!'

Rhodey showed no reaction, only sighing at her glistening eyes and blotchy face.

'Please,' she said in a small, hoarse voice. 'I can't do this to him. Not when he could have, but he didn't.'

He looked reluctant as he responded, 'Okay. Be safe. I love you.'

She gave a small smile before he cut off the call. She started to cry. All the years of suppressed sadness poured out of her in just a span of a minute. She wiped her nose as she picked up the photo again, laughing to herself about how she and Steve became the parents for the group.

'You know I'd offer to cook you dinner but you seem pretty miserable already,' Steve's voice brought her back to reality, and made her aware of her runny nose and cloudy eyes. He was leaning against the bookshelf, her pale satin pink ballet shoes hung, along with a black hourglass with red sand, flowing down endlessly without stopping its journey.

She hastily wiped the tears of her face. 'You here to do your laundry?'

'And to see a friend.'

She scoffed. 'Clearly, your friend is fine.'

His eyes lingered on her wrists again before continuing. 'You know I saw a pod of whales when I was coming up the bridge.'

'In the Hudson?'

'There's fewer ships, cleaner water . . . '

Everyone knows why.

'You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side,' she said, forgetting all intentions to be alone. 'I'm about you to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich.' She smiled, feeling less pain than she used to.