The boy I thought I knew

ROSALIE 

My hands were shaking so hard I could barely pull the key out of my small cloth bag. My feet hurt from walking all the way from the bus stop to save a little bit of change. Every single cent mattered now. My whole life was just a game of counting coins. My little sister Zara was so sick, lying in her bed at home, and almost every single cent I made at my small office job went straight to her medicine and to pay Mrs. Helen, the old neighbor who watched her while I worked. I was drowning in unpaid bills, but whenever I felt like crying, I would just think of Roman.

Roman was my boyfriend. He was the only good thing left in my world. He was my soft place to fall when everything else felt like it was breaking into tiny pieces.

I pushed the key into the keyhole of his front door. It made a small click sound, and I turned the handle quietly. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to just wrap my arms around his waist, hide my face against his chest, and forget about the unpaid hospital bills for just five short minutes.

"Roman?" I called out softly as I pushed the door open. "Are you home early?"

I stepped into the living room, and my entire world came to a complete stop.

The air left my lungs all at once, as if someone had punched me right in the stomach. Roman was lying on the leather couch. He had no clothes on. And right on top of him was a woman with long red hair, and she had no clothes on either.

They both turned to look at me at the exact same time. The woman gave a tiny scream and pulled a throw pillow over her chest, but Roman did not even try to cover himself up. He just sat up slowly, looking at me with cold, tired eyes.

"Rosalie?" he said, his voice flat. "What are you doing here right now?"

I stood completely still, glued to the carpet. The room started spinning around me. "What... what is this?" My voice was just a small, broken whisper. "Roman, who is she? What are you doing?"

"Oh, come on, Rosalie," Roman sighed, running a hand through his messy hair as he finally stood up and pulled on his dark blue shorts. "Do not act so silly. You can see what is happening right here."

"How could you do this to me?" Hot tears burned the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall down my cheeks yet. I gripped the strap of my bag until my knuckles turned white. "You love me, Roman. You told me last week that you loved me! How could you bring another girl here onto your couch?"

The red-haired woman quickly grabbed her dress from the floor and ran straight into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a loud snap.

Roman laughed a harsh, ugly sound that I had never heard come out of his mouth before. He stepped closer to me, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

"I only said those things because I felt sorry for you, Rosalie," he said, staring right into my eyes without a single drop of regret. "I have been wanting to break up with you for months now. Months!"

"Then why didn't you?" I cried. "Why did you lie to me?"

"Because your sister is sick!" he shouted back. "I didn't want to break your stupid little heart while you were already crying every day about Zara! But honestly, I cannot do this anymore. You caught me, so fine. The game is over. I am completely done pretending."

"Done pretending?" I repeated, my mouth staying open in shock. "What does that even mean?"

"It means you are boring, Rosalie!" he snapped, pointing a finger right at me. "Look at you! You never smile anymore. You look tired all the time. You are not pretty like you were when we first started dating two years ago.”

"I am tired because I am trying to keep my sister alive, Roman!" I screamed back, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes and running down my hot cheeks. "I work all day and I care for her all night!"

"And that is all you care about!" Roman yelled. "Zara, Zara, Zara! That is all I ever hear from your mouth! You never have time to go out with me anymore. You never buy nice clothes. You never take care of me. Your dying sister takes up every single second of your life, and I am sick of sitting around waiting for you to remember that I exist!"

"She is my sister!" I yelled, my body shaking with rage and heartbreak. "She has nobody else but me!"

"Then maybe you should just stop paying for those expensive hospital bills!" Roman said, his face twisting into something cruel and ugly.

I froze. The whole room went completely silent. "What did you just say to me?"

"You heard me," Roman said coldly, not taking a single step back. "Just let her go, Rosalie. Stop throwing all your money into a black hole. Zara is just going to drag you down until you have absolutely nothing left anyway. She is ruining your life, and she is ruining mine."

I looked at his face, searching for the boy I had loved for two years, but he was completely gone. In his place was a monster. I felt so sick to my stomach that I thought I was going to throw up right there on his floor.

Without saying another word, I turned around and ran out of the apartment.

I ran out into the street, and all the way to the bus stop. My chest hurt so bad I could hardly breathe. By the time I reached my small, dark apartment, my legs were shaking so hard I could barely walk up the steps. I pushed our front door open and stepped inside.

"Mrs. Helen?" I called out softly, wiping my wet face with the back of my dirty sleeve.

Mrs. Helen walked out of Zara's small bedroom. She looked at my red eyes and sighed softly. "Oh, Rosalie, dear. You look terrible. Did something happen at work?"

"No," I lied quickly, swallowing the giant lump in my throat. "I am just... I am just really tired. How is Zara doing today?"

Mrs. Helen looked down at the floor, her old hands gripping her bag tightly. "She is quiet today, child. The nurse came by at three o'clock to give her the weekly injection and check her blood. But Rosalie... the nurse said Zara really needs to be back in the hospital room. She is too weak to be staying here in this hot room."

"I know," I whispered, my voice trembling so much it hurt. "I know she needs to be in the hospital. But they discharged her because I couldn't pay the rest of the bill from last month. I don't have the money, Mrs. Helen. I don't have anything left."

Mrs. Helen gave me a sad, soft smile and patted my shoulder gently. "I know you are doing your best, sweet girl. I will be back tomorrow morning at seven."

"Thank you," I said quietly as she walked out the door and closed it behind her.

Once I was completely alone, the silence in the apartment felt heavy and dark. I walked slowly into the small bedroom where my sister lay. 

Zara was lying on top of the thin mattress, looking so tiny and fragile under the white sheet. Her eyes were closed, and her skin looked pale and grey. She was only fourteen.

I walked over to the side of her bed and sank straight down onto my knees on the hard floor.

"Zara?" I whispered softly, reaching out to touch her small, cold hand.

She didn't open her eyes, but her long fingers twitched just a tiny bit against mine. She was breathing so slowly, her little chest rising and falling in faint, weak movements.

I squeezed Zara's tiny hand against my warm cheek, and the tears came pouring out of my eyes all over again, hot and heavy. I buried my face into the side of her thin mattress, my shoulders shaking violently as I sobbed in the quiet room.