Page 98 of Heartfelt Pain
I sleep so hard and so long, I don’t open my eyes until ten the next morning. I wake up in another dimension because I can’t remember the last time I slept in like that.
Roma: Let me know when you’re awake and okay.
Ren: I’m alive.
It’s two simple texts but at least something is right in the world.
Isolde comes over a few hours later. I’m sitting on my couch, mindlessly staring at the TV because I’m not sure what I should be doing.
“You want a slice now?” she asks, walking to the kitchen with a pizza. “I’m going to put the rest in the fridge for whenever you want it.”
Trevino opens the door a few minutes later. The scowl on his face is so intense even in my haze I feel my brows lift up in wonder.
“She can’t smoke anything. She’s on pain meds.”
Isolde settles back into the couch. “You hack my phone or something?”
The scowl deepens. “No weed.”
He takes one step back, closing the door behind him.
Isolde takes out a joint from her pocket. “I was just gonna leave it for you anyway.”
“Thanks, friend.” I lovingly wrap my hand around the weed for a moment before placing it on the coffee table. “You know I think he reads a lot.”
Isolde picks up the remote, flipping through channels. “What do you mean?”
“I saw him with a book the other day. I think maybe when all of this is over we should invite him to book club. You know, stay friends with him.”
“I’d love to get his opinion onIce Queen’s Loverboy.”
“Wait is that seriously the title for this month’s book?”
“If you’re feeling up to it, we could go to the bookstore later. Get his initial thoughts on the cover.”
I take another pain pill, washing it down with a slice of pizza and a Coke. Isolde is still over when there’s a knock at the door. Ben uses his key to let himself in.
“Hey.” He shuts the door, but remains by it, right next to the couch since this place doesn’t have a foyer. “How are you feeling?”
It’s hard to figure out which of us is worse off. He’s got bags under his eyes and his hair sticks up. The few buttons of his shirt are undone and it’s not pressed like usual.
He runs a hand over my form and his eyes linger on my bandage wrist. Maybe he didn’t believe me and thought I’d just wanted a day off. But the pill bottle on the coffee table and the ice pack should be enough to tell him I wasn’t lying.
“It hurts,” I admit, wondering when exactly the pain will go away.
“You need any groceries?” he asks, sweeping his eyes over the rest of the place.
“No, it’s okay.” He doesn’t need to know Roma already dropped some off.
He also picked up some of the bigger piles of clothes lying around and placed them in the hamper. Before he left he must’ve lined up my shoes because they’re no longer a jumbled-up pile.
“Boris Akatov swung by for lunch.” Ben fingers the key ring in his hand.
“By himself?” I ask.
“No. He brought Dmitri along with him this time. Asked about the analysis.”
“I told him no,” I promise.
