Wereball Series - Along Came A Mate

Chapter 13 Part 2

"What? Did I say 'messages'? You did not hear me," Rudolph promptly contradicted.

I had no strength for verbal arguments; it felt as if an alien worm was sucking all my energy out.

"But tell me, why are you crying if it were not for the mess-um." He cleared his throat.

I heaved out a shaky sigh, "It's just that sometimes too much injustice gets thrown in our way. I don't want to accept it, but I have no choice but to, and that kills me." I rubbed my hand over my face, finding tears of anger, "I keep telling myself that I always have the power to change, to fix, but sometimes I just don't. And I hate that I can't do anything about it."

No words came from the usually perky wolf. Only deep, steady breaths.

"You know," When he spoke, his voice sounded as firm as his confidence, "One lesson I have learned over the years and I try to apply to my daily life is that we often have no control. So I let life happen, without getting caught up in what is beyond my reach." He paused as I pondered the meaning behind his words. "And sometimes it's okay to accept defeat and acknowledge pain. It is part of the game of life. Same with all other emotions, both good and bad...." He trailed off, "In the end, we always learn something from them."

"But I hate not having control. I'm a control freak!" I proclaimed as my hand had involuntarily began to play and twirl the hem of the carpet.

He chuckled in that deep tune of his, "Well, we may not have control from time to time, but we can always control how we react to uncontrollable events."

"How?" My voice piqued with curiosity.

"I go for a run, I call a girl," Rudolph said casually as I huffed, shaking my head, "I hang out with my people. Familiarity is comforting."  

"Wow, Rudy, I did not know you were such a philosopher!" I teased after taking few seconds to absorb the truth behind his talk.

Rudolph swore under his breath, "People had called me many names, but never a philosopher."

Some heartbeats passed in silence.

"What made you feel this way today?" He asked eventually, "Did something specific happened?"

My heart dropped to the hard floor. As hard as his question.

"It's my"—sniff—"my little brother. He's terribly sick."

And so I began talking about Ian, sharing such a painful baggage with Rudolph. There was something about opening up to a complete stranger who had no idea who I was or my life story. It allowed a rare freedom of speech and no filters.

Rudolph, in return, listened to me then distracted me from something I had zero control over. Death. 

However, he never admitted what his revenge against me had been.

"You are lucky I'm such a forgiving person." At one point he said cheekily, "You would not have survived the embarrassment. Trust me."

I smiled, wiping some tears off my flushed face. 

"Was it a smile I heard?" He asked with pride. 

I shook my head but could not restrain another smile, "You can't hear smiles."

"I can. It's one of my many talents." 

"Yeah, together with humility." I said with an undertone full of sarcasm.

He barked out a laugh, "Hey, I'm just honest. I don't sugar-coat."

Before I could formulate a response, Rudolph changed topic, "You never told me what you do for living apart from being an active nun in the church." There was genuine curiosity, regardless the rudeness.