Chapter 27
I have never beenin so much pain in my life.
It’s not unusual for one of us in the over-fifty team to have an injury, but this is the first time it’s happened to me.
Sure, I have the usual aches and pains that we all experience, and my knees pop and get super stiff if I sit wrong, and there was that time that I fell at Emma’s and strained my back.
This feels different, though, and it’s bad enough that I had to call Vincente to come help me get off the football pitch and go home. It’s been three weeks since the start of the new term, since I pleasured Emma, and now I have to live with seeing her every day. The mid-January air is chilly enough to send goose bumps up the exposed skin of my arms and legs now that I’m not running the pitch. I should have put my jacket on, but now it’s too much of an inconvenience since we are almost home.
My team was in the middle of a game, and all I had done was look back at the player who had possession, a simple move of running while twisting my body, and next thing I knew, I was down on the ground in pain.
“Okay,” Vincente says once we get into the lobby of the building, “almost there.”
On the drive over, thanks to Vincente’s urging, I called Chiara and she told me to lie down and ice my back and that she would come by this evening to check on me. The rest of her instructions were to Vincente, to make sure I didn’t move too much and definitely couldn’t lift anything.
The stairs hurt. Every step twinges my lower back.
“Should have taken you back to my place,” Vincente mutters.
“Yes, I’m sure my addition to your household would be very welcome,” I say through gritted teeth. Their house is too small as it is, but they’ve put up with it for this long, and the boys will be out of the house in a few years, god willing. Also, his wife is allergic to cats. “Mine and Zola’s.”
“That demon will survive without you for a few days. We could have gotten your neighbor to check in on her. You know, the hot one. What was her name? Starts with an E?”
I almost say Emma until I realize he means Eva. Vincente doesn’t know that Emma is my neighbor. “Eva.”
“That’s the one.”
I grunt. Eva is still dating someone, and hasn’t been around much anymore. And Oliver goes with her, so things are definitely quieter here.
We have to pause at the top of the stairs for a break. I’m breathing hard and still sweaty from the match, although now it might be overridden by pain sweat. I’m not sure it should hurt this bad.
Now it’s time to pass Emma’s door. Please don’t be home, please don’t be home. Emma and I haven’t had a private moment in these three weeks. We’re back to a relationship where I’m just her professor and jerk off to thoughts of her in secret (when Oliver is not home). The difference is now I know how she sounds and feels when she comes.
I hate it. I got the closure I thought I needed. I know how that night would have ended, with the tastes and smells and the sounds. Instead, I’m wondering why I can’t do that again and berating myself over and over for thinking it was a good idea. I still want her just as badly as I did before–no, worse.
“Santo, man, you need to breathe. Is it that bad?”
Emma’s door flies open at the sound of my name. As soon as she catches sight of my face, her eyes widen. “Santo? What happened?”
“Ms. Chance?” Vincente asks, confusion in his voice.
Emma’s gaze darts to him and then back to me. “Professor Romano.” Then her eyes switch back to him, and she says his name again, surprised and actually seeing him this time. She clears her throat. “Professor Offredi. Are you okay?”
“He’ll be okay. We’re going to get him lying down,” Vincente assures her. “The doctor’s coming, but thanks for your concern.”
“Sure. Okay.” Emma steps back into her apartment, but the door doesn’t click shut until we’re almost to mine.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Vincente hisses.
I wince even harder than I had before, which I didn’t think was possible. Vincente’s voice is angry and a bit hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me she lives down the hall from you?”
“It’s not a big deal.” I fumble with the keys and open the door while Vincente seethes. He waits to unleash on me until I’m lying down on the couch.
“Tell me she just moved in.”
I sigh. “She moved in at the beginning of the program.”
Vincente paces. “Where are your painkillers?” He retrieves them, and I choke two down. “Here’s what I’m seeing. You took her home one night, ages ago. She moved in down the hall, which you never saw fit to mention to me. That’s awfully suspicious. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”
I close my eyes and put my arm over my face, waiting for the painkillers to kick in. “It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time.”
“Does it seem like one now?”
“Based on the volume of your voice, yes. Yell a little louder, and don’t forget to enunciate so she can hear you.”
“She doesn’t speak Italian,” Vincente points out. “And I don’t want to know how you know what she can and cannot hear through the walls. She’s two doors down! How loud have you two been?” His voice changes. “Oh god, there’s an apartment between you. Eva. Does she know?”
“Stop,” I snap. “You are blowing things way out of proportion here.”
“Am I? I follow the rules, Santo, and even if it’s been years since I’ve had sex, I don’t act with my cock. Like father, like son.”
He could have punched me, and it wouldn’t have stunned me less. A chill washes over me. Vincente is the one person in my life who knows I have a half-sister.
“Fuck.” Vincente’s not looking at me but, instead, looks out the window. He’s always been faithful to his wife, but I didn’t know it had gotten so bad between them, and now I see our talks about the women I take home in a completely different light.
I close my eyes again. After a few minutes, I hear my friend move. The tap turns on in my kitchen, then off, and there’s a soft clink as he sets a glass on the table beside me. Then my phone, and the rattle of the bottle of pills.
“Should I look for Zola?” he asks quietly.
“No, she’s probably hiding up in her loft.”
“Do you need anything else?”
Because I’m going to leave before you disappoint me even more.
“No.”
A few moments later, the door clicks closed, and I’m alone.