And I swear under my breath. Damn it. Eliano is right. It’s a color I’ve never seen there before. Not that I’ve looked there often, duh!
But what am I supposed to say, that I have no idea what’s happening? It can’t be heat, that would be ridiculous. I’m a beta.
I need to downplay it quickly before it gets awkward, otherwise… what?
Better not go there.
"It’s probably an allergic reaction to the lube the doctor used on the ultrasound probe," I announce confidently as I stand up, pull my sweatpants back on, and hand him the mirror.
"It stung a bit before."
The whole time, I make sure my face looks like nothing happened. Acting chilled out, I walk over to the window again and turn my back to him.
I’m kind of pissed that he brought it up, because the fun could have gone in a much more interesting direction, but the mood is gone now.
Eliano picks up the laptop and checks it for any damage. "At least it still works. Be careful next time, or they’ll dock it from our stipend."
I shrug and snort.
A long silence falls, broken only by the sound of Eliano’s fingers tapping on the keys.
Vacantly, I stare out the window, watching a few couples heading toward the round plaza on the promenade. Are they already heading for the Last Man Standing or the grill event?
What now?
One thing’s for sure, our last conversation ended in a really shitty place, and maybe I can fix it?
Saying sorry to anyone other than Senu basically didn’t exist in my world. But somehow… I feel this pull to apologize to him. Eliano didn’t do anything wrong. He saved me on thatdamn bus. He helped me in the medical office. And I’m not some entitled bitch who forgets favors and acts like the world owes him kindness. I know exactly how shitty people can be, which is why I actually appreciate that Eliano treated me right. Maybe it’s time I treat him right too? At least a little.
Clearing my throat, I start, "Sorry about the… you know, the dumb mafia comments. I genuinely want to understand why those fights get to you so much. I promise no jokes, no silly jabs. I know what it means to go through fucked-up shit. I’ve been there myself…" I force the words out, because saying sorry really is a whole new thing to me.
After a moment of silence, I finally decide to turn toward him.
Eliano looks back, almost as if assessing whether I’m serious, seemingly the verdict coming in my favor, his brows knitting into a grim frown, as he says,
"I was forced to fight against my will from the time I was seven. I trained every single day. From the age of fifteen, I fought in cages against other fighters. It never gave me any pleasure. I’m not exactly eager to go back to what I escaped from."
For a moment, I wrestle with my emotions. Maybe it’s a stupid reason, but it feels like wasted potential to me. He trained for so many years only to turn his back on it completely. He wants to be a journalist now, nothing to do with training or physical activity at all. It sounds like such a different career path, almost the opposite. With some reluctance, I say,
"But I really don’t think you’d have any trouble there. They’re probably just regular guys with no training. No real fights. You’d wipe the floor with them in seconds, and they’d back off."
Eliano’s eyes go back to the screen.
"As I predicted, you wouldn’t understand."
I’m about to let out a snort, but then I realize how my words must have sounded to him, as if I didn’t care about his feelings, dismissing his trauma around fighting.
For some reason, my thoughts drift back into my own past.
When Senu and I were living on the streets, he forced himself to give blowjobs to clients just so we could survive. Later, when I found a job and money started coming in from somewhere else, he stopped and never went back to it.
But that timedamagedhim deeply and changed something inside him.
Even after he landed a steady job at a bar, he began using drugs to cope with the stressful memories. For almost two years, he struggled with addiction before going to rehab.
After that, heseeminglygot back on his feet. He even dated two decent betas, but he never could hold onto them. There was always a lingering, unspoken sadness in him. A pain he carried deep.
I see a certain analogy here between Eliano’s and Senu’s situations. The trauma may run deep and manifest in different ways.
