Roman can’t imagine what Cupid was thinking.

Perhaps he had a hangover when assigning soulmates. Even then, how does this even happen?

Like seriously?

In a world where soulmates are supposed to live happily ever after, how do his parents end up together but so unhappy? Now divorced and having to be civil for him. Just great.

Thanks Cupid.

“Come on, Madge. I just want to go on a trip with my son,” his dad insists, following Roman’s mom into the living room. She stares ahead, effectively ignoring him, which she is a pro at.

“Yeah. But it’s my week,” she reminds him. Not for the first time. Roman winces. He knows where this phrase goes.

It triggers his dad.

Roman could practically mouth the words that come out of his dad’s lips. “You love holding it over me, don’t you?” His dad says, just like he knew he would.

It’s like his powers are mind reading even though they are emotion absorption. He’s taken their anger and bitterness enough when he was younger to know that this won’t end anytime soon.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she quips, her nose pointed up in the air, head held high.

“Sure you don’t.” Roman groans audibly. Sarcasm is his mom’s pet peeve for his father. While Roman can be as sarcastic as he likes, for his dad, that seems to infuriate her to no end.

“I don’t appreciate the tone, Cal,” her tone is sharp, clipped.

It is about this time in their rising argument that Roman slips out of the house. Usually, he goes to Jeremiah’s house. His home is always so warm and welcoming. It feels…safe.

If that isn’t an option, he’ll amble to see Cross or Bell. Most times they are together, practically fused into one being (even before being soulmates). But they all started out as friends first. So he doesn’t feel awkward hanging out with them. They never make him feel like a third wheel.

“Why don’t we see what Roman wants to do?”

Freezing at the mention of his name, he looks between both his parents. This is his least favorite moment. When he is in the middle of them. When they put him in the middle of them. He knows both of them want him to pick a side.

Instead, he does what he always does. Straddles the line.

“Can we go on this trip next weekend, when it’s your week, Dad? So it doesn’t take away from Mom’s time?” He asks. This is a game between them. And thankfully, he learned from a young age on how to play.

His parents avoid his gaze for a moment, both thinking about his suggestion. They unconsciously nod their heads, seeing the logic in his words.

They could have come up with the same thing, but they don’t want to compromise with each other.

“I guess,” his dad says at the same time his mom agrees, “Sounds smart.”

“Perfect. I’m going out,” Roman says.

He has tunnel vision. All he wants is to leave the tension. But he isn’t that lucky. He never is.

“With Jeremiah?” His mom asks. It’s an innocent question, one she already knows the answer to. She just likes to ask to know for sure where he is going and to let him know she is interested in who he spends his time with. Roman appreciates this about his mom, but he knows how his dad will see it.

“Yep,” he answers, keeping it short, hoping it will lessen the time spent here.

“Ok have fun,” she says. He is just about out the door, thinking he escaped without a remark from his dad, but then, “You know all his friends. Why’d you ask him?”

What can’t his life ever be easy? That’s too much to ask.

The glares are back. Her response is bubbling over in annoyance. “I can talk with my son.”

“You can trust him. He’s seventeen,” his father pointlessly emphasizes.

“I know. I do.”

Roman sighs and leaves. They don’t hear his exit. Nine times out of ten, they don’t.

Thanks Cupid.