feared more than death itself. But despite my fear, I couldn't let things go back to the way they were. I had to stay strong. I had to fight. The only problem was, I had no idea how I was going to keep Alessandro at bay once he regained his full memory and strength.
While I tortured myself with the news of the sudden progress in his recovery, his eyes were narrowed on my face, assessing me with undivided scrutiny. When I looked up, those familiar traces of amusement and suspicion reflected in his expression. I could sense he read me like an open book. I tilted my chin, determined to extinguish his probable doubts.
“That is good news, indeed,” I disrupted the silence, trying to mend the possible damage caused by my reaction. “When are you going to the hospital?”
“As soon as possible. I wanted to go today”—Alessandro asserted, caressing my cheek—“but the doctor insisted that I should come tomorrow.”
I exhaled and nodded. This was happening too fast. I wasn't prepared for having a fully functional Alessandro around me in a matter of twenty four hours.
“I'm sure the doctor knows what's best,” I retorted quietly.
Alessandro smiled, and went on to say something when his most trusted friend and associate Lorenzo Moretti entered the room.
“Buongiorno,” he exclaimed ecstatically, greeting us from the door. In an instant, his eyes froze on me and Alessandro, and he only managed one hesitant step into the room before coming to an abrupt halt. “Am I interrupting something?”
Alessandro smiled in honest contentment to see his right hand man, and walked back to his chair. “No, nothing important. We were just having breakfast. Would you care to join us?”
Lorenzo said something, but I didn't listen. I kept my eyes glued to the edge of the table, unable to look him in the eyes. If there was one man whom I hated more than Alessandro, it was Lorenzo Moretti. His actions had cost me so much pain and suffering that I was still recovering from the consequences. In the past few weeks, I was careful to avoid his presence, but I could sense things were about to change and I would be seeing Lorenzo on a daily basis—just like before Alessandro's accident. Emotions boiled up to the surface, and I had to get away from them because I couldn't bear the suffocating tension any longer.
“Excuse me.” My chair scuffed along the floor in my rush to stand. Sidestepping Lorenzo as if he wasn’t there, I scurried past with great haste.
“Cara...” I could hear Alessandro's surprised voice, but didn't pay it any heed.
Instead, I hurried toward the stairs without looking back. By the time I got to my room, I was shivering. The memories returned to haunt me and started eating me alive. My stomach churned due to the stress, so I lied down, trying to distract my mind and think of anything but the two men talking downstairs. I tossed and turned on the bed, but couldn’t relax. The realization Lorenzo might be uncovering the truth to Alessandro at this very moment left me disturbed and shaken, but I was powerless in the matter. Day by day, Alessandro grew more and more suspicious and wouldn't waste time in getting answers Lorenzo would only be too happy to provide. And once the cast came off, he would be fully capable of hurting me again, in any way he saw fit.
Even his loss of memory wouldn't save me if Lorenzo uncovered the gruesome truth of what had happened in the past. Alessandro would never take my word over his best friend's. Lorenzo wasn't joking when he told me they were like brothers. He was probably the one person in this word Alessandro confided in. By the time I had grasped the strength of their bond, it was too late for me to dodge the bullet; and I had paid the highest price imaginable for placing my trust in the wrong person.
Suddenly, the door sprang open and Alessandro stalked inside. His omission to knock didn't escape my attention. He approached me and perched on the edge of the bed. What if he knows? What if Lorenzo told him? Oh God, please help me. Every muscle in my body coiled so tight that I couldn't breathe. Alessandro caressed my hair, and I remained cold and unmoving. I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting to keep my composure and not breakdown in front of him.
“What is bothering you, cara?” he asked softly. “You