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8 ◆ Nice To See You Again ◆

Author: M.Z. Mauve
last update Last Updated: 2021-01-05 14:45:50

◇ KEL ◇

The next day, after spending a few hours in our campus library, I decided to go home early for a change, too tired to burn more mental energy on General Surgery books. Also, I was failing to manage another anxiety attack.

No surprise there. It had been a difficult couple of months without Miles around. He used to be my Xanax. Spending time with him was always better than taking anti-depression meds. He almost always knew how to cheer me up and he helped me overcome my inner demons countless times. I loved him for that.

Too bad he couldn't stick around anymore. Sometimes I really missed him that it would upset me how I couldn't hang out with him anytime I want. I couldn't call him up every day because I knew he was busy with a lot of work—his father clearly wanted Miles to earn his pay, and not get handed money simply because he was the boss' son and only child.

So I made a conscious choice to keep our communications to a minimum. As busy as Miles was, I had to dedicate most of my time and attention on schoolwork and trainings. I shouldn't let my tuition go to waste. My family only expected the best from me, too.

"Just keep going, sweetheart. I know you'll do great," had been my mother's redundant encouragement the past couple of months. "Just one year left. Then you're gonna be one of their best residents here."

I appreciated the pep talk every now and then, although I knew Match Day wouldn't guarantee that I would get into a residency program here in New York so I could stay close to my family. But we'd cross that bridge when we get there. For now, I had to focus on my growing to-do list.

Past five in the afternoon, before I could start my long walk back to the apartment, an expensive-looking gray car drove up to me by the sidewalk. It was a convertible. Quite familiar. I tried to ignore it and walked on with my notebooks in my arms, but the car kept tailing me.

A bouquet of my favorite flowers sat in the passenger seat, with a poker-faced Lorenzio Tomassini behind the wheel.

My legs immediately froze. I stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk.

What on Earth? When did he even fly out to New York?

"Hi."

"What're you doing?"

"Apologizing."

My back stiffened and my throat felt dry all of a sudden. I resumed my walk. Students started teeming the path, making me feel uneasy while my unexpected visitor kept following me in his luxury vehicle. "Apology accepted. Go home."

"Not when you're this mad."

"I'm not," I lied, resuming my hasty pace along the sidewalk. "I just don't like being lied to."

"I'm sorry."

So he flew all the way out here just to say sorry? Jeez...such a waste of time and money. Didn't he have multiple businesses to manage and check up on every day? Where's Berto? And his other bodyguards? I wasn't used to seeing him without a security detail.

"Please just get in." The guy sighed and sounded more frustrated now.

"Why?"

"Tried to tell you things. Once." A truck honked loudly behind us and drove past his car the next second. "You didn't listen."

"What?" I scoffed. He tried to tell me things but I didn't listen to him? What the heck's he talking about?

"You were...too preoccupied with your issues with Maxim then." The hood of his car almost touched the sidewalk now.

"You could've just called, Enzo."

"Can we go somewhere? Have lunch and...talk."

Was he seriously asking me out right now? I made a face but continued to avoid his eyes. Some concern intruded into my thoughts. It was way past lunch time. So he hadn't eaten anything yet?

"Just get in. I'll drive you straight to your place after we talk," he bargained. "Bellezza..."

"Why should I trust that?"

"Because I just want to talk," he sighed behind the wheel as he kept up an embarrassing turtle pace. More students teemed along both sidewalks now. "Can't sleep, knowing you just hate me now."

Good, then. I wasn't the only one having sleepless nights. "I don't hate you," I muttered as I kept walking forward.

"Your actions tell me otherwise."

"Fine." I let out a noisy sigh and hastily stepped into his vehicle, chagrined by the scene we were making.

Two of my classmates just saw me and arched their curious brows at us. They looked intrigued and...somewhat amused at the same time. They probably assumed he was my boyfriend or something.

It shouldn't bother me this much but it did. I avoided his eyes and settled in the passenger seat. His cologne smelled so familiar and made me feel quite...nostalgic. Self-conscious, too.

I glimpsed my clothes. A simple coat. Dress shirt. Plus an old pair of boots. Not much to look at, but hopefully he didn't mind. I budged to glance at him.

His tired, slightly baggy eyes stared at my face as I sat in his passenger seat. "How've you been?" he murmured with fairly creased brows.

"Fine. Drive me home now. Please," I muttered after I faced front, the heavily tinted windshield dimming the streets. It would be sunset in a few hours. I kinda missed him, but I didn't want to spend an entire evening with him. The nervousness I felt convinced me I shouldn't.

"Alright." Enzo waited for me to buckle up before he stepped on the gas.

We would talk it out. Resolve our issues. For old times' sake.

I had no choice but to let him into my small apartment just so we could have privacy. And some space. I didn't want to be stuck in his car with him sitting so close to me and practically sharing the same air I was breathing.

It wasn't like I was afraid of him. His presence never made me uneasy to the point of terror. It was our sudden proximity that made me feel uncomfortable.

Not because I didn't want him anywhere near me—I appreciated how he took time off his busy schedule just to see me again and to talk to me in person. I just didn't know what else to say to him or if...he wanted to say something else besides an apology. Him being here all of a sudden made me realize just now that I wasn't at all prepared to confront him face-to-face today.

"How's school?" He unbuttoned his cuffs, his pale blue eyes a tad droopy and darkened by shadow.

"Busy."

"I thought so."

"How you been?" I murmured while I fixed him a drink. Least I could do. "Drink up. You look a bit dehydrated." I handed him a glass of cold water while he just stood in the middle of the living room. I wouldn't call it a living room, though.

It was just a meager space beside the doorway that had a small two-seater couch and a plastic end table. No TV. No rug. No coffee table. I preferred a minimalist space. But he probably thought I was just too broke to buy furniture and appliances, rich kid that he was.

"Same old." Enzo dropped his steady gaze and remained still some two feet away from me, his hands on his hips. He drank the water and avoided my eyes.

"Busier than usual?" Then why was he wasting his time here with me? Didn't he have urgent matters to check on to make sure his biotech company's faring well here in New York? Did Miles know that Enzo was here again?

"Yeah. Focusing on the company and...trying not to hate myself as much." Enzo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, his tone almost despondent.

Hate himself? "So, how's it going? Your new company, I mean."

"Erm... Y'know... Just hangin' in there."

"Long flight?" I stepped closer to him. His voice sounded husky, as if he hadn't had much sleep the previous night. I held his wrist and pushed him towards the couch. We sat next to each other after I unbuttoned my coat. "You wanna rest for a bit? Take a nap?"

He glanced at me and gave me a quick, lopsided smile, looking quite amused. His beard looked thicker than I remembered. His brown hair looked a bit longer, too, hanging inches below his angular jawline. Some gray strands in his wavy hair. But they didn't make him look older than 35.

Just more authentic and manly. It was now more obvious that he's a stressed businessman traveling from city to city all year.

"Why hate?" I asked in a more mellow tone. Why exactly did he hate himself? Was he dealing with more complicated family issues lately?

"You know why." Enzo scoffed.

"Not really."

"Let's not go into detail." He stared distractedly at the empty glass he held. "Don't wanna spoil your mood even more."

Fine. Change the topic. "Want something to eat? Snacks? Juice or..." I eyed the small fridge. I didn't have leftovers, or other stocked food except some citrus fruits and vegetables.

This guy was used to dining in fancy restaurants. But maybe we could go somewhere so I could treat him to an early dinner—the least I could do to show him I was still grateful that he helped me with my financial problems. Twice, in fact.

Maybe he now thought and expected I could gradually pay off my debts to him once I started earning steady paychecks as a physician, although he knew that would take years.

But in reality, before I'd be able to pay back every cent I owed him, I'd need at least a decade in this economy. The interest, I'd just have to pay back a little later.

"Not really. Why?" Enzo stopped staring at my face and checked his watch. "You hungry?"

"No," I muttered, avoiding his attentive eyes. To let go of some tension in my legs, I got up and pretended to check the kitchen. "If you're not in a hurry, I can fix you something." I opened the freezer and made a face. "But I only have some veggies, and, some pork."

When I turned to look at him again, Enzo grinned at me and got up from the couch. "You'll cook for me?"

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