30 reasons why - Roger Taylor

-REASON THREE-

June 9th, 1979.

Hi, ljubav. I know I left you. Again.

But I'm not out with the boys or anything, I just went out to get groceries. Sorry, if you wanted to come, you just seemed so peaceful sleeping.

I won't be out for long. I'll be home before you know it, and then we can go to that café you like all the way on the other side of the city. Just wait for me, Rosie.

Love you.

Alas, Rosie Špiljak woke up in bed alone. Like it wasn't already anticipated.

Last night was decent between her and Roger, she was sure she was going to wake up with him next to her. But the closest thing she got was a voicemail left for her at nearly an hour and a half ago. A voice in her head would tell her to suck it up and be happy Roger at least left her a voicemail, but Rosie was just so tired of waking up alone.

It made her feel like she wasn't in a long-term committed relationship with the man she wanted to marry.

Rosie wanted to marry Roger. She knew the morning after their first date, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Hell, she even wanted to ring her mother in Croatia and tell her all about it, regardless of the fact that it wasn't possible at all.

But it wasn't going to happen if their relationship was like this—useless. Right now, it was either make it or break it, but for Roger, it was try to mend it back together.

She missed when she woke up to Roger still sleeping, his arms holding her and their legs entangled with one another. How he would always beg her to teach him her native language—Croatian. But it would almost always end with her giggling and kissing him to shut him up.

One of the reasons why Rosie didn't like waking up —or being—alone was because it reminded her too much of her teenage life back in Croatia. The lonely nights of her waking up at nearly three in the morning everyday while her mother was out doing God knows what.

And for that reason, Roger never really left her side. Until just a few months ago.

It was already eleven, and the sun was well up in the sky. The blinds were also open, probably by Roger, and the moment they hit her eyes, Rosie hissed and immediately turned the other way.

Apparently, this man didn't understand why I changed the bed sheets to black. She took photo album on the side of her bedside table, it had been long since she'd seen it, and she noticed Brian had written something behind a photo she took a few months ago. It was a photo of the sunset just after one of Queen's concerts, which she had pointed out and stayed behind to capture on her camera as Roger kept walking to the car.

It hurt Rosie to think of it, comparing it to their relationship—she was falling behind.

Sighing, she got out of bed and made her way to the kitchen. Sitting on the dining table was a plate of French toast—one of Rosie's personal favorites that Roger knew how to cook. Topped with whipped cream and cut strawberries, a smile formed on her lips. She didn't remember the last time he had properly left her a meal to eat for breakfast, but it surely wasn't within the past two months.

Roger was actually trying, much to her initial thought. He had stopped leaving her in the mornings for his own friends, he put her as the center of attention, and everything he was doing was for her.

She'll wait for him. She'll wait for him, even though it'll take him forever to come back from the grocery store—she'll take a chance.

Maybe I will stay.