◆ Loyal Friend ◆

◇ KEL ◇

Ospedale Santa Rossi

The guilt had never felt this tangible. It crawled under my skin, heightened the shame, and worsened the regret that mixed with my confusion. Shame for just letting it all happen. Regret for not even trying to stop it.

The dam just collapsed. Too full for inhibitions. Too full for second thoughts. Or was this a long time coming?

The lights weren't bright at all, but something deep inside me just coiled at the thought of him seeing everything. If memory served me, he'd never seen me this unclothed.

Not what bothered me most, though. I just wanted to make sure he's still comfortable being in the same room with me...sharing the same bed.

Totally out of the blue. Totally didn't make a lick of sense. I didn't think it would go this far. Neither did he, as far as I could tell.

This night was supposed to end with me dozing off over statistical discussion paragraphs, right as scheduled. Not with both of us in his new bed, undeniably naked, just awkwardly gauging each other's feelings.

Definitely not proper. Definitely out of control. But, screw it. I had to clear the air. I just had to. "Hey. I, uh, really need to work on that paper."

At my hushed words, the guy looked at me, but then glanced away and swore under his breath. Crow's feet deepened below his thick brows.

I could just stare at his dark lashes and pale blue eyes all day. Full of depth and emotions.

"Sorry." He stroked my forearm but stopped immediately.

Sorry? Why did he look so...guilty?

He got out of bed and put on pants. Suddenly he's embarrassed to be naked in front of me?

The ceiling lights stayed off, but the lamp kept the room softly lit. I could see how ruffled his hair was. Bedhead. And his slightly calloused hands. Perfectly toned arms, broad shoulders, strong and muscular back...

Avoiding my gaze, he reached for his shirt. He got dressed in seconds as I stayed naked on the covers, hiding under my wrinkled dress which I clasped with both hands.

Okay, then. Message received. It was all a mistake to him.

The unsettling realization just hit me. What happened wasn't supposed to happen, but I wasn't profoundly embarrassed by it. What bothered me was his apparent shock and regret after what we both let happen.

Shit. Okay. So, he's definitely seeing someone. Someone he knew would be too upset by this...momentary indiscretion.

"What?" I murmured when Enzo kept cussing to himself. The guy sat on the bed, on the farthest edge, maybe to seem close while deliberately avoiding any more physical contact with me.

"Sorry," he sighed.

Great. Another apology.

Another confirmation I didn't need.

He certainly, undeniably regretted every second of this...

"Bellezza..."

Wait.

"Mykaela. Hey."

Dream. It was just a dream. Of course. Why so vivid, though?

The details were oddly specific and...coherent. I could even remember how his skin smelled. How soft his hair felt in between my fingers... How smooth his chest felt against mine...

Sheesh. I hadn't had one of those dreams in a while. It could be the fatigue. Yep. I was downright exhausted. Hence my overactive imagination messing with my subconscious again.

Suppressing a yawn, I glanced around the airconditioned room. The edge of the chair I sat on now touched the edge of the bedside table. I fell asleep on the hospital bed, with my upper resting on the edge, instead of watching over the patient while he tried to rest. I blinked the grogginess away. I stretched my strained arms where I'd rested my head. They felt numb and tingly.

Pale gray hospital gown. The smell of fresh antiseptic. Gauze around his fist. Morphine in his IV drip. The patient stayed reclined on the white hospital bed, his eyes closed, his legs covered by thin sheets.

Right. They put him in a private room after surgery. I had accompanied Lorenzio to the ER with his bodyguard and Alessio. Enzo's family lived far north and probably still had no clue about what happened. Did he call his father? Or one of his uncles?

The doctor thought I was his girlfriend and had explained the treatment plan before leaving the room. The stitches on Enzo's knuckle just reminded me of his other injuries. Three mildly fractured ribs. Multiple contusions and abrasions. The others were superficial. Thank God. I'd only tried to nap when I'd made sure he finally fell asleep, thanks to the painkillers.

Thoughts of my flight back home pushed me to revisit my to-do list, but if Enzo didn't feel any better tomorrow, I'd have to stay longer here in Italy.

"Just go back to New York. You have exams. He'll live." Miles sounded rather pissed over the phone earlier, stressing his valid point.

I should focus on schoolwork and not make my family worry for my safety. But I didn't want to leave just yet. And neither could I stop checking up on Enzo. I knew how much it bothered Miles, but, Enzo badly needed a concerned friend right now.

My eyes traced his sleeping profile before he let out a sigh. He was awake.

Oh. It was actually his voice I'd heard saying my name, drawing me out of that oddly intimate dream. "Hey. You okay?" I leaned closer.

Enzo tried to shift on the bed, then grunted as if in pain.

"You okay?" I asked, his shiner distracting me less in the dimmed lighting. But I could still see the outline.

"You were talking and dreaming."

"Oh. Sorry, if I woke you up." I glanced away. "Need anything?" I stood up and waited for him to reply. I poured him a glass of water just in case. "Thirsty?"

"No. Bathroom."

"Okay. I'll help you." I helped him off of the bed with one arm, led him to the bathroom, and pushed the IV stand towards the sink. It instantly reminded me of that day we first met. Eerily similar circumstances. "You good?"

"Thanks." He shut the door and peed. It took him about a minute to finish.

I listened while Enzo washed up in the small sink. "Don't get the stitches wet. 'Kay?" I bit on my lip when he muttered profanities in Italian. Then the faucet got turned off. "All good?"

Enzo didn't reply. The door swung open.

"The stitches? They hurt worse?"

He weakly shook his head in response. Obviously a lie. But he let me help him get back on the bed because he was limping a bit. He also did his best to avoid my eyes.

"Need to talk to someone? Your phone's on the bedside."

A slight grin dimpled his cheeks. His voice sounded hoarse, his eyes calm but tired and droopy. "Already on it."

"Oh. Someone came in?"

"Yeah." Enzo smiled faintly and kept his eyes shut while he reclined. He still couldn't lie flat on his back, so he was kind of sitting up.

"Who was it?"

"She's someone who listens and cares. Often too much."

I thought for a moment, then smiled. Alright. Since it was clear he wasn't in the mood to chat about the reason why we were here, I'd play his game. "Because she cares about her friends."

"Like I said, nice to a fault."

I heard him sigh a little, but my ego also savored the compliment. "Just tell me if you need something. I'll wait till they discharge you."

At my reassurance, his smile faded almost instantly. It got replaced by a frown that creased his forehead and pouting lips.

"Does your head still hurt?" I touched his neck to check his vitals and body temperature. Pretty normal. Thank God. Besides the reddish contusions around his eyes, cheek and his cracked lip, his complexion looked quite paler than his usual tan. But he no longer seemed to be feeling acute discomfort. "How's the pain?"

When Enzo didn't say another word, I pretended to be busy organizing his and my belongings on the couch. I just bought some clothes for him actually. Shirts. Underwear. Sweatpants. There was a clothes shop on the other side of the street. But he didn't look eager to check them out.

I glanced at his brooding reaction.

Was he ignoring me? Maybe I was being intrusive now. He probably found me irritating. But I cared about his health and wellbeing more. I stopped fussing over our stuff and got near him again. I watched him rest on the bed, although he looked too bothered by something to go back to sleep.

Maybe the pain was worsening. "Hey." I took a step closer. "Talk to me."

"What else is there to say?" Enzo muttered after a moment of silence. "You've seen and heard everything."

I took a step backward. His flat tone told me much about his current mood, which I totally understood. "Okay. Sorry."

"For what?"

"Just sorry." I gently touched his hand, the one with the needle stuck below his knuckle.

He stared at the TV and continued to avoid my eyes.

It kind of hurt, but, his behavior made perfect sense. "I'm just not used to you being so quiet." I curbed a sigh. "Distant." He'd always been the cheerful, optimistic one while I was often the opposite. "It just worries me a lot."

"Don't waste your time," he mumbled, "worrying about me."

Waste my time? I shut my mouth. Okay. Maybe he was telling me the truth earlier. Maybe he was still serious about pushing me away for good, to "move on" and help me keep a "normal" life.

"Why are you even here?"

"What?" Some panic rose in my chest because of his grim tone and deepening scowl. Was he mad at himself? At his brother? He must be that upset by what was happening to his family, and maybe the breakup still kept him up most nights.

"Just stay away from me." Enzo sighed. "I just fuck up everything."

Wait. Did he mean, he thought everything was his fault? I pulled a face. "What d'you mean?"

"You need your life back. Go away."

Right. Fine. It was anger. Hurt. Frustration. I already knew what caused them. Kinda. But I still needed him to talk to me. "And why's that?"

"You're unreal." Enzo blankly stared at the ceiling. He pulled his hand away when I touched him again.

Ouch. It was like a quick stab in my chest, robbing me of peace of mind.

"Too good for all this chaos."

Was he still talking about me? "Am I?"

Almost immediately, my response made him glare at me. "He hurt you." Enzo scowled, looking even more upset by my nonchalance. "He tried to kill you, Mykaela. Why didn't you just press charges?"

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