Rodeo's arms finally drop away from her when she mentions that phone call. The only call she ever made, and it was one he couldn't take. He'd spent every day since that call regretting the fact that he'd been in solitary without any phone privileges when she tried to call him, wondering what she would have said, sure it was the last chance he'd ever had to talk to her. He spent four years in jail praying desperately for her to reach out to him, and she finally did once he was neck-deep in shit. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, and he lifts a wrist to drag it across his face, smearing his tears on the leather.
"Yeah, well, why'd you have to wait until the world was ending to call me?" he asks, his voice small despite himself.