“Your boy doesn’t require all this attention, Sir,” he says to me as I feed him chilled melon by hand.
“It’s not only for you, sweetheart. I need this too. Whenever I hurt you or make you suffer, I must also restore you to perfect health and reward you for your sacrifices.”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice, though, not really.”
“Just because you enjoyed it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a sacrifice. Your body needs time to heal, your mind needs to process the new experience, the intense emotions we felt need the opportunity to level out. You must be assured you’re still safe, and I’m here to take care of you. Don’t rush your recovery.”
“Okay,” he says with a dopey smile.
It’s Wednesday around noontime when I receive the call from Rebekah. Their therapy appointment would have just concluded. I answer on the first ring.
“Valentin,” she says in her soothing contralto—perfect for therapy or phone sex. “It’s Rebekah, Giovanni’s therapist.”
“Hello again.” I’ve not spoken to her since I arranged their standing appointment, though I check in regularly with Giovanni, and I have told Rebekah to call me directly if he doesn’t answer promptly at their appointed time.
“I wanted to call because Giovanni and I discussed some particularly distressing topics today, and I’m a little worried it may have triggered some very bad memories for him. I know from our sessions that you’ve been working with him on healthy coping strategies, but I’m concerned that if he’s not getting the relief he needs, he may fall back onto some of his more destructive habits.”
“I’ll clear my afternoon so I can be at home with him,” I tell her, already looking at my calendar.
“I think that would be best. Does he still have the anti-anxiety medication?”
“Yes, he does.”
“I might suggest that too if he needs it.”
I’m already grabbing my suit jacket and motioning to my security that we’re leaving. “Thank you for calling me, Rebekah. Please don’t hesitate to do so again in the future.”
“I will, Valentin. He’s made a lot of progress, and he’s been very brave in our sessions. He’s a very special young man.”
“Yes, I think so too.”
When I arrive home a little while later, Rico’s pacing the hallway outside my bedroom, and Giovanni is buried under the covers in my bed.
“Is he sleeping?” I ask Rico.
“Don’t think so, Boss. He wanted to close the door, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“That’s good, Rico. I know he can be persuasive, but we’ve got to stick to our protocol.”
“I thought about calling you, but I didn’t want to disturb you at work. He hasn’t moved much since his call with Rebekah.”
“Call me any time. I’d rather be disturbed than come home to what happened last time, or something worse.”
He nods, the incident burned into his psyche as well.
“I’m staying home for the rest of the day, so why don’t you see if you can wrangle something for dinner until the next shift arrives to relieve you?”
“You got it, Boss.”
Rico busies himself in the kitchen while I go into the bedroom and change into something more comfortable. Giovanni’s eyes are open, staring at nothing. He doesn’t greet me or even turn his head to acknowledge my presence. I climb into the bed and draw him back toward me so I can breathe in the scent of his hair. “Hard day at work?” I ask, attempting for some levity.
He nods and scoots backward so I can grip him closer to me.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He shakes his head, and I’m fine with that too. There’s no need to rush him. It’ll come out eventually.
“Is there anything I can do for you, sweetheart? Something to drink? Some medicine perhaps?”
