4 #3
“I know, Clara. But I also know full well that ever since what happened with Charlotte, you haven’t let anyone—absolutely no one—get close to you.
Not even a little bit. And I understand why; I really do, because I was there to pick up the pieces.
That relationship left a very ugly scar.
But what you can’t do is turn a bad story from the past into a life sentence for your heart. It’s not fair to you.”
I look away toward the large window in the living room, where raindrops are tracing irregular, whimsical paths across the glass.
“It’s not about being afraid of getting hurt again,” I admit in a whisper of honest truth.
“Then what the hell is it about?”
It takes me a few long seconds to answer him. Because in my head there are easy, politically correct answers, and then there are the raw, painful ones—and those rarely coincide.
“It’s about control, Dani,” I finally confess, turning to lock eyes with him. “It’s about knowing exactly where my safe zone ends—down to the millimeter—and where absolute disaster begins.”
Dani nods slowly, showing a complete understanding that comforts me.
“And from what you’re telling me, that girl is a real magnitude-eight earthquake.”
I let out a dry laugh, devoid of humor but full of irony.
“Not at all… Alicia Puertas isn’t an earthquake; she’s a wildfire with a dangerously charming smile.
Every time she walks through the door of the rehab room, the temperature in the air changes.
She looks at me with such audacity… as if she knew exactly what I’m thinking about her at that very moment, and I…
I have to play the role of my life and pretend I’m just a cold-hearted physical therapist doing her job. ”
“And may I ask what exactly you’re thinking when you stare straight into her eyes?” he teases me with a knowing smile.
At that moment, I inevitably think of Alicia—the tempting curve of her neck when she tilts her head cockily, how her firm muscles tense deliciously beneath my hands when I have her do resistance exercises on the treatment table, and that faint, sexy gasp that escapes her lips when the pain is far more intense than her pride will allow her to admit out loud.
“I think she’s a very dangerous woman,” I reply with complete honesty.
“Because she constantly forces me to step outside my professional comfort zone—the one where I always have absolute control over the situation. With her, I find myself painfully aware of things that have nothing to do with medicine, and that… that’s extremely dangerous for my sanity. ”
“But you’re not going to do anything stupid that you’ll regret, are you?”
“I know that already. My biggest problem in life has never been doing stupid, reckless things, Dani. My real problem is feeling intense emotions inside and having to pretend to the outside world that they don’t exist.”
I fall silent for a moment, processing my own words out loud and getting a little scared of myself.
The mere thought of knowing that tomorrow morning I’ll have to see her again at the clinic already sends my heart racing to ridiculous levels.
I can still hear her husky, sensual voice on repeat, whispering in my ear: “Then I sincerely hope you’re very well prepared for everything that’s coming your way, Doctor…
even for ending up falling in love with me.
” And the worst part of this whole situation isn’t the cocky provocation itself.
What’s truly worrying is that my mind went completely blank, and I didn’t have a witty comeback to shut her up.
Dani suddenly raises his right hand and gives me a gentle tap on the tip of my nose with his finger, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Listen to me for a second, Clara. Just do me a little favor as a friend. If you’re really going to throw your impeccable emotional stability to the wind because of a wild, sexy, and troubled striker, at least make sure the ride is worth it.”
This time I really do laugh heartily, letting out a clear, resonant laugh.
“You’re definitely a terrible influence on my professional life.”
“But I’m also your favorite influence in the whole world,” he replies, winking at me playfully.
You sure are. Without a doubt.
The conversation takes a different turn after that.
We spend the rest of the evening talking about his latest chaotic architectural project, an unbearable millionaire client who’s driving him to the brink, and how the English weather never seems to give us a break.
But even quite a while later, when Dani heads home and my apartment is once again plunged into that deathly silence I love so much, Alicia is still here, lingering.
She remains suspended in the memory of the last few days.
In that electric tension that still hangs in the air of the living room.
In that problem that grows with every hour we spend together.
I pour myself one last, generous glass of red wine and stand by the large window, watching the city’s dim lights through the rain.
Tomorrow I have another private session with her.
Another full hour of dangerous physical closeness.
Another pitched battle of pride, defiant glances, and restrained desire.
And, God forgive me, but I’m looking forward to the moment it begins.