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I don't know if Roman is still dating that girl. I don't know if they're married, or have kids, or if he's in the middle of a tour. All I know is that he saved me in that ocean whether he knows it or not, and he's the one I want to see right now.
Once Nora calms down enough to speak, she tells me to hold on. I nod, wiping my face while I listen to her sniffle on the other end of the line.
"Ready?" she asks, her voice clogged with tears.
I nod my head, grabbing a pen from the desk and a little yellow sticky note. "Ready," I whisper. I've never felt more ready in my entire life.
She gives me his number, each number building a weight in my heart, and asks, "Does this mean you're coming home?"
"I'm coming home." My voice breaks off at the end as I start crying again, and so does she. It's painful as the tears flow from my eyes, my chest aching with each breath I take.
"I'm never going to be able to fall back asleep now," she laughs, still in the midst of crying.
"I'll talk to you soon, okay? I really want to get out of here."
She pauses at this. "Is everything okay? Seriously?"
I bite my lip. "It will be."
"I love you," she says on a whisper.
"I love you, too."
We hang up, and I place the phone back in its holder, staring down at the phone number I scribbled, my handwriting shaky and barely legible. My fingers run over the pen marks, smudging the ink.
My heart races and slows down, like it knows something life-changing is about to happen. It's been so many years since I've talked to Roman. So many years since I've heard his voice. Has he thought about me? Does he miss me?
With a deep, shaky breath, I pick up the phone, pressing the buttons extra slow. My fingers tremble, and tears fill my eyes. I'm so excited, nervous, worried, hopeful, regretful. So many emotions fill my stomach, and I can't do anything besides breathe deeply.
And hope that he answers.
It rings. And rings. And continues to ring. I’m almost worried it’s going to hit voicemail, that maybe I won’t be able to reach him, after all.
Then the phone clicks.
"Hello?"
My mouth opens, a gasp coming out. It'shim.
He sounds so much the same, but so different.
The letters of his name curl around my tongue, but nothing leaves my mouth. Nothing besides breath. Nothing besides love.
He doesn't say anything on the other line, listening to my heavy breaths as they come through the phone. Then I hear his sharp intake of breath, and I know.
He knows.
"Luna?" His voice comes out quiet, hushed.
I nod, still no words coming out of my mouth. My throat squeaks a little, and I can hear his heavy breath on the other line. Tears rush from my eyes, my cheeks drenched as his voice awakens a part of my soul that has been sleeping since he walked out of my room all those years ago.
"Luna, is that you?" he asks again, his voice rushed this time.
"It's me," I whisper.
He says nothing, his breathing labored. I imagine him sitting there, his eyes pinched closed. His fingers running through his hair as shock covers his face.
"Are you okay? Where are you?"
