He was all lean muscles and egoist superiority. A sense of pride, something she shouldn’t and was not entitled to feel, raised chills to her scalp.
I had that, she thought mindlessly.
“When?” he repeated, less patient this time.
She bit the inside of her mouth lightly, just enough to keep her grounded. “Last year.”
He was quiet, waiting for her to continue. Anya rubbed the cold glass in her palms, planting many fingerprints on the reflective surface while she rummaged through her brain to find the right words without causing any misunderstandings.
She couldn’t risk people accusing Meryl of unsafe workspace practices.
“I tripped and fell,” she said, hoping it would suffice.
In truth, her foot had snagged the studio light’s power cord, and her chest hit the corner of the makeup table. It was painful for a moment, but Meryl insisted she get checked out even after the pain was gone.
Alessio studied her for an uncomfortably long second as if to dissect the pathetic attempt of her trickling the truth. He made no mention of it and took her glass to fill it with water from the water distiller system beside him.
When the glass made it back to her hands, it was as warm as her skin. She muttered a stiff gratitude before she stated she was heading to her room.
“Goodnight,” she said so fast that she bit her tongue.
The pain couldn’t mask the burning blush on her cheeks as she held the glass tighter. Anya left the area without hearing him echoing it back, or maybe he never had the intention to do so.
She gulped down the full glass, instantly regretting it with twisting pain in her stomach, and leaned on the wall until the initial fullness subsided.
The effect he had on her was overbearing, and sometimes, it made her want to cry about it.
He gave her conniving emotions, and she gave herself nothing but confusion. She wanted to be with him, to be able to laugh together on weekend mornings and bathe in his selfish affection.
She didn’t know why they broke up; maybe she did, but only a vague concept of everything. She just knew she wanted everything he gave her, yet there would always be the urgency under her feet to run away from it.
“What am I doing?” she whispered, but the sounds were swallowed by dull heartbeats in her ears.
A vibration on her pillow dragged her eyes to her phone, and it lit up with a message notification. She wanted to ignore it. Nonetheless, she’d rather not have Meryl knock on her door, especially if it was about her unanswered text.
She flopped onto the bed and opened the message from Alessio. Her traitorous heart ran another marathon behind her ribs as she played the voice memo he sent.
“Goodnight.”
Simple and soft, the message itself was an afterthought. His voice, deep and deliberate, demanded attention, yet it emptied her thoughts like hollowed wickedness.
It had the weight of gravity, and it grounded his sincerity in something tangible.
Chapter Four
__________
Alessio
Two days passed after that. Anya brought up returning the money, but he had already saved the photos in his photo album.
Those photos were new, and he felt like a victim of thievery, not out of the goodness of his dignity but because he was not there to experience those moments with her.
It was irrational, yes, but the thought settled into the background noise that he couldn’t silence.
He wanted to hear about her summer job at seventeen, fresh in the work field and undoubtedly encountering unreasonable customers.
Would he have run his car’s tire over their toes? Probably.