“I’ll get you a replacement shirt,” I said, pulling on the button up and making it worse. “This is no good anymore.”
“Philippa stop!”
I pulled the shirt a little too hard and it fell away on one side. I noticed a bloodstain on his vest over his stomach. “What… is this?” Gianni put his hand over the spot to try and hide it from me. “I don’t understand. I thought the torture stopped.”
“It has,” Gianni said. “This… is self-inflicted.”
My eyes came up to him. “What? Why?”
It was clear Gianni was reluctant to tell me what was going on, something else that had never happened before. He kept opening his mouth to speak and then stopped. It was hurtful knowing there was something he felt he couldn’t tell me. “Gianni… it’s me. Tell me what’s going on? Did your father make you do this to yourself?”
“Not… entirely.”
“Gianni,” I snapped. “What happened?”
“It’s business,” he responded. “I can’t say.”
To say that it broke my heart would be an understatement. “I thought we were friends.”
“We are, but…”
“But it’s just business,” I responded. I could feel tears coming to my eyes and I didn’t want to cry in front of Gianni, so I turned my back to him. “I’ll go get your coffee.”
“Philippa,” Gianni said, but then his voice died there. He realized at the same time as I did that he didn’t have an appropriate excuse.
“You’re under no obligation to tell me what’s going on with you,” I said, trying my best to keep my voice even. “Just remember that I’m as much a victim of your father as you are. When you’re ready to confide in me again. I’ll be here.”
“Philippa, nothing has to change,” Gianni said.
A few tears slid down my face. “You’ve never kept secrets from me before. Whether or not you wanted it to, things have just changed.”
I tried to continue out, but Gianni grabbed my arm. He pulled me back, though not in a way that would hurt me, just in a way that communicated his intentions. I looked down at his huge hand wrapped nearly halfway around my entire bicep. It was the first time he’d ever directly touched my skin.
I looked up at him and noticed the conflict in his face. Just like before, there were things he wanted to say, but for whatever reason, he didn’t feel like he could say them. He stared down into my eyes, looking the most serious I’d ever seen him and my heart started to race. It wasn’t the way he looked at me when he was afraid I was doing something that was going to make his father mad or the way he looked at me when he was sharing sad stories about his life.
The way he was looking at me was entirely new.
“What?” I said finally.
He seemed like he was trying to solve a complex equation in his head. “I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?” I asked.
“I don’t understand how it got this way.”
His words were elusive. They felt important but I didn’t know what he meant. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
I froze as he leaned towards me, ducking his head towards mine. My lips parted of their own volition and my heart was banging against my chest so hard I feared it may come flying out. I waited, unsure of what Gianni was planning, but trying not to get my hopes up. His face got closer to mine and I was becoming more and more convinced he was going to kiss me, when at the last second, he bailed and placed a soft kiss on my cheek. Though it wasn’t the first kiss I was looking for, I would take it.
He pulled back from me and I had to put active effort into not squealing at the adorable blush that had risen to his cheeks.
Now I was the one who didn’t understand.
“Gianni,” I said.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “Maybe you should go.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to go.”
