Chapter 37
Hanna
Restlessly, I pace back and forth in my room. I still haven't told Florian about my accident or my diagnosis. Both should be easy for me, yet I find myself afraid of his reaction. With each passing day, the fear grows.
What if he's just as disappointed as Vico? How will he react when he realizes that our lives may never be the same again?
My fingers tremble, but I dial his number on my phone.
It rings. I walk to the window and peer through the white side panels of the curtains. No one is here. Three days have passed since Vico fled from me. There's no reason he would suddenly show up today. Perhaps it's for the best - for both of us. I need to stop picturing his angular face, hearing his soft tone, and wondering how he's doing.
"Hanna, how nice," Florian breathes heavily. He must have rushed to answer my call. "What's up?"
"Everything's fine," I reply without thinking and immediately bite my tongue. Breaking this automatism is not easy. I make a new attempt. "It's just…"
There's a brief silence on the line. "Yes?"
"I…"Come on, Hanna. I broke my arm. Just say it."When will you be here tomorrow?" Dammit. Why is it so easy for me to express what's on my mind with Vico, but not with Florian?
"I'll leave as soon as I get rid of the departing guests." I hear him typing on the computer in the background. "I'll be with you in the late afternoon."
"That sounds great." I glance at my casted arm. He'll find out about it tomorrow anyway. If I can't bring myself to tell him about the epilepsy today, at least I can mention the accident.
"Have you gone through the checklist?" Florian asks in his businesslike tone.
"Mm-hmm." Dammit, what's wrong with me? I can't lie to him. It's not a shame that I haven't completed everything.
Suddenly, it becomes so quiet that I can hear his breath. "Is something wrong?"
Now or never.
Three. Two. One. "I broke my arm," I manage to say with effort, turning away from the window and continuing to pace between the old wooden bed and the dresser.
"Oh, that's terrible!" Is it concern or astonishment in his tone?
Unconsciously, I nibble on my lower lip. "I was careless."
"But you should take good care of yourself," he replies, just as shaken as my mother used to be. He cares about me. "How did it happen?"
"An accident with the Vespa." I sigh, pausing and sinking down onto the bed. "I just wanted to go for a short ride," I say remorsefully. Myanything is possibleattitude has been shattered.
"Just a short ride?" he repeats incredulously. Of course, he can't comprehend it all, as he doesn't know this side of me.
"It was a mistake," I say helplessly, blinking away the tears welling up in my eyes.
A loud clearing of his throat is heard. "No problem, we'll handle it. After all, it's just a matter of time until you're fully recovered," he says determinedly, and suddenly, I don't know why I was worried in the first place. "And if a hospital bill comes in, we'll manage that too."
Oh no, I hope I haven't incurred any costs; we need every cent for the estate. "I'm so sorry," I murmur.
"My dear," Florian says affectionately, "it happened, and we can't change that."
Internally, I relax. I've delivered bad news, and he responded with understanding. We are, and will remain, a good team that can talk about anything. I just need to show him more of the woman I truly am, as I've never done in the past years.
"Thank you," I whisper into the phone, and a tear of relief escapes my eye. Now, I have the courage to tell him about my illness. "I…"
"Can you still do something for me with your arm?" he interrupts before I can reveal the whole truth. He sounds so motivated for our cause that I decide not to take away his joy. Not now.
"Sure." I straighten my back. "What do you need me to do?"
