Page 39 of Breakaway

I jerk my head, and her fingers drop away. “Around three.” When I stand up from the couch, she takes a step back. “Why are you talking to me?”

She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest. “Why do you need to make everything so difficult?”

“You spent yesterday evening ignoring me. Giving me the silent treatment. And suddenly I’m the one who makes things difficult?”

Lifting her chin up, she glares at me. Her teeth are sunk in her bottom lip, her face darkening. She opens her mouth and then closes it again, tapping her foot on the floor. Her agitation rises, and a darker shade of pink tinges her cheeks.

“How long did you sleep?” Nevaeh asks.

“Three hours.” I shrug, skirting her and ambling to the kitchen. With each step I take, my head starts to hurt more. It feels like someone is drilling holes in my fucking skull.

“Roman, you need to sleep.”

“I’m good,” I tell her, pouring some water into a glass. “Go to work. I don’t need a babysitter.”

“You need sleep,” Nevaeh bites out, stomping over to me. “You look like a fucking ghost. Go to bed.”

“Da ne mogu ya?1,” I yell, halting her in her tracks. My hands are trembling, and I put the glass on the kitchen counter to avoid spilling water. “I can’t. Not today.”

Nevaeh stands still, her arms dangling at her sides. Her eyebrows knit together as she anxiously searches my face. Licking her lips, she rocks from her heels to her toes, shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Her chest rises and falls so quickly, I have no doubt she’s pissed. With a quiet snort, she takes a step back.

“As you wish.”

Turning on her heel, Nevaeh storms to her bedroom and then to the front door. Her little black purse is hanging over her shoulder when she walks out of my apartment. The door slams closed, and I quietly slide down to the floor, leaning my back against the cupboard. I’m drained. So empty that I don’t even have it in me to fight my demons. Not today, at least.

Today, I let them win.

“Roma, how are you?”my mom asks, her worried voice coming through speakerphone. I lie on the floor in my living room and stare at the ceiling.

“Nikak?2.” I sigh, inhaling sharply. “I don’t feel anything.”

Mom sniffs. “Roma…You shouldn’t be alone tonight.Pozhaluysta,mal’chik moy dorogoy?3.”

“Everything is going to be alright. I promise, Mom,” I whisper. Any time I try to lift my head, it feels like it’s going to explode. This headache blurs my vision, and every fucking sound heightens my pain. Even my mom’s voice brings me discomfort.

“Maks would be so mad at you if he?—”

“He’s dead, Mom. For seven fucking years today. Don’t tell me what my twin brother would do if he could see me now,” I say and cover my eyes with my palm. “Did you go see him?”

“I did,” Mom confirms quietly. “I visited your dad too…your grandma said hi.”

“That man is dead to me, Mom. I don’t care about him or his side of the family.”

“Roma,” Mom warns, but I just shrug it off. I couldn’t care less what she has to say. This is the one thing she and I will never agree on.

“Let’s talk tomorrow, Mom. Bye.” I grab my phone, hang up, and toss it back on the floor. I need to get up, go to my room, and stay there. I need to avoid Nevaeh while I’m in such a fucked-up state. And yet, I lie still, my eyelids growing heavier.

Just a few more minutes, and I’ll go to my room. Just a few more…

“Roman?”Her fingers brush my hair from my forehead and delicately slide down my cheek. “Is everything okay?”

I open my eyes and meet Nevaeh’s gaze. She sits on the floor, hovering over me. Her eyebrows are pulled together, and she’s staring at me from under her eyelashes. The corners of her mouth drop, collapsing into a deep frown.

“What time is it?” I whisper huskily. My throat is so tight, it’s hard to swallow.

“It’s eight p.m.,” she replies, caressing my cheek with the pads of her fingers. “I had a meeting with my boss, and it ran late, so I just got home from work. And found you here.”

“Sorry if I scared you.” I sit up and glance at her. “And sorry for being rude to you this morning. You didn’t deserve it.”

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