Hidden Heart

by Camelia Miron Skiba

  “Wow, nice language,” Tessa said, laughing.

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot you understand German,” Chiara laughed, too. “Going back to our discussion. The reason I asked all those questions is because when the construction crew came to work on your house for the first time, you freaked out. Remember, you called me from your bathroom, after you locked yourself in and I tried for how long to convince you that no one would harm you?”

  “Uh-huh…”

  “Now, four months later you are actually able to be in the same room with a man, without feeling threatened, and talk with him and behave normally. You’ve found something you’re passionate about, maybe not as rewarding financially as you were used to, but it gives you a new goal and perspective on what really matters to you. My point is that you might not see it, but you’ve made progress. You renovated your house, and at the same time, you’ve also healed. Maybe not completely, but you’re on your way to a full recovery.”

  “Do you think?”

  The clock showed three o’clock in the morning when Tessa finished the conversation with Chiara. She felt exhausted from all the hard work she’d done starting earlier the day before, from loads of laundry, to ironing curtains, to installing nightstand lamps, to hanging photos and paintings. She barely ate an apple for lunch and a bowl of instant soup for dinner, only to return to work until she finished and called her sister. Her body felt sore from climbing up and down the ladder, bending, carrying and moving heavy stuff around.

  But her brain had a will of its own, with thoughts popping in her head like lights in a lamp store and keeping her awake in the wee hours of the morning. Chiara’s words struck her like a thunderbolt. True, she spent a lot of time with Cristian. They worked closely, sometimes their hands touched as they reached for the same piece of paper; sometimes they even bumped shoulders. But she didn’t feel the panic she used to months ago. He became this person she counted on without her even realizing.

  I’m not attracted to him, am I?

  ***

  “That was a good movie; I haven’t laughed so much in a long time,” Tessa said, walking slowly towards the cinema’s exit.

  “Me too; I’m glad I convinced you to come. When you said you like Sarah Jessica Parker, I knew you’d like the movie,” Cristian said, holding the door open for her.

  “Not just that, but a movie with her and Matthew McConaughey tops my list. Thanks for taking me; I haven’t been to a cinema in ages.”

  “The pleasure is mine. Movies, comedies in general, are my favorite thing to watch. You should see my DVD collection at home.”

  They walked to the parking area near the mall, the place swarming with people. It seemed everyone was out and all the parking spots were taken. The air vibrated with honking, and cars zoomed in and out of the parking lot, almost too fast, some too close to the pedestrians.

  “I know it’s the weekend, but this place is totally crazy,” Tessa said, raising her voice for Cristian to hear her.

  With the space between the car rows too narrow for them to walk side by side, she walked in front of him, looking over her shoulder to talk to him. Screeching tires and an intense honking made Tessa jerk and turn her head back, while Cristian grabbed and dragged her between two cars. The move made her stumble a few feet, and she came to a halt, colliding with Cristian’s chest.

  He turned her to face him and, holding her upper arms, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw him with the corner of my eye and I had to act fast, otherwise he would’ve hit us both. Are you okay?”

  “Oh my God, was he insane or drunk?” Tessa said, looking after the car, then back at Cristian. “I’m okay, thanks. Too bad idiots like him have a driver’s license.”

  He held onto her arms like that for long seconds, and looked at her lips with such intensity, Tessa thought he’d kiss her at any moment. Instead, he began walking in between cars, holding her hand and dodging side mirrors. They arrived at his car without another incident, got in and took off immediately.

  He drove to his office, where she’d left her car before the movie. He parked and walked her back to her car, took the key from her hand and unlocked the door, then held it open for her.

  “I had fun. We should do this again sometime soon. I can get used to this,” Cristian said, placing the car key back in her palm. He placed his palms on his waist, then dropped them only to repeat the action once more. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

  “It was fun. Thanks again,” Tessa said, smiled and put one foot inside the car, preparing to step in.

  “Tessa, wait,” Cristian said and before she could react, he pressed his lips on hers.

  Shocked by his gesture, Tessa just stood there. She didn’t participate; she didn’t feel repulsion, but most importantly, she didn’t panic. Her heartbeat didn’t skyrocket; her head didn’t spin. Her body didn’t shiver—just nothing.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice husky, when he stopped kissing her. He looked at her, dropped his palms and then averted his eyes. When he looked again at her, he said, “Look, Tessa, I really like you, I do, and I just couldn’t resist anymore. I don’t mean to rush you or make you feel uncomfortable, but I think it’s time you know where I stand. Time passes so quickly when I’m with you, and each day I find myself thinking of when I’m going to see you next. The more time we spend together, the more I want more.”

  Tessa’s heart sank. She liked him too, but now that he kissed her, she knew she wasn’t attracted to him.

  “And what if I’m not interested; is this going to be a deal breaker for the event we’re planning?”

  He shook his head and said, “No, not at all. Please don’t let this destroy what we’ve worked on. I’m a patient person, I can wait.” He sighed and rested a hand on the car’s door, looking sadly at her.

  “Cristian, you are a great guy. But right now, I’d like to keep things as simple as possible. If seeing me again means working together, a lunch now and then, that’s fine, but I have nothing else to offer.”

  “Not even later?” A spark of hope seemed to light up his face.

  She shook her head with disappointment. “Don’t waste your time waiting for something to change; it won’t, trust me.” She stepped in her car and looked up at him. “See you Monday,” she said, closed the car door and took off.

  Why does it have to be more? Tessa arrived home and prepared to go to bed. Cristian’s kiss haunted her. She tried to find somewhere in her mind a single sign she maybe had given him that he had the green-light to move to the next level, but she couldn’t find anything. She liked him; she’d been relaxed around him—he made her feel that way—but she had never indicated she’d wanted more. Human touch didn’t seem to give her the chills anymore—his kiss, his holding her hand or even holding her upper arms—there was no real chemistry between them.

  And Cristian’s kiss reminded her of Alessandro. Just thinking of him made her heart race, her stomach tremble. God, how I miss him! Where are you, Alessandro? She frantically picked up her phone and dialed Alessandro’s number, then hung up before it rang. She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the phone against her forehead. Move on, Tessa; he has already done that. Alessandro has a girlfriend now.

  Chapter 19

  Two weeks had passed by since Cristian had kissed Tessa and when they first saw each other afterwards, they both seemed self-conscious; she almost turned around and bolted out of his office. He asked her to at least try to be in the same room with him and hurried to show her emails from a singer, a football player and a model agreeing to attend the fundraiser, as well as a voicemail from a reporter saying he’d be interested in interviewing both of them. She was so happy with the new development, she threw herself into work and forgot about the discomfort. Although she was aware of his longing glances, his lingering fingers on things he handed her, she avoided discussing anything except the event.

  Several days later, when Tessa went to buy a birthday present for one of the boys in Dina’s shelter, she saw Aless
andro walking out of the toy store with a little girl, holding her tight. Whatever he said to her, she giggled and threw her head back, then flung her arms around his neck and gave him a long smacking kiss on his cheek. The tall gorgeous Italian woman she saw him with at the furniture store walked right behind him, sunglasses on, a big smile on her face and holding onto a tiny pink backpack and a doll.

  Since then, Tessa had been through hell and back. Her hope that by some miracle they’d get back together some day disappeared. And his last words to her, “I’ll be here waiting for you” replayed in her head so much, she was just sick of it. Yeah, sure you will!

  She returned home from Dina’s shelter with a throbbing headache and tried to take a nap in the early afternoon, but as soon as she lay down, her thoughts jumbled in her head as if someone turned on multiple radio stations. She lay awake, tossing and turning.

  “Fine then, I’m not going to fall asleep,” Tessa said out loud, throwing the covers aside. “I’m alone in bed, yet I have two men in my head, driving me crazy.”

  She got up and marched into her office. She had two boxes with unopened mail, documents and various other papers to sort—the last reminiscence of her old apartment. Hopefully by the time she finished, her headache would be gone. She made piles of receipts, bank statements, bills, and letters.

  When she opened the second box, a big brown envelope, almost at the bottom of the box caught her attention. She ripped it open and pulled out of it what seemed to be a medical report with her name on it and a bunch of large-sized photos. She read the report and only a few words registered with her as if her brain blocked the rest of them—broken ribs, dislocated jaw, internal bleeding, rape. She then looked at the photos and a small yelp escaped her lips. This can’t me. She looked at the report. Anastassia Cosma, female, single, thirty years old. She looked again at the pictures, one by one spreading them on top of her desk.

  An urgent need to hold onto her desk for fear her knees would give in made her grip the edge of it with white knuckles. Horror spread through her body, threatening to strangle her. The headache intensified so much, her vision blurred.

  “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” her voice down to a whisper she didn’t recognize it. She collapsed onto her chair, forcing her eyes to focus and shaking her head in denial. A swarm of feelings and emotions overwhelmed her like a herd of bulls out of control before hitting the arena for the final bullfight.

  Tessa stared at the photos until each image was imprinted in her head, she could still see them even with her eyes closed. When she felt able to walk, she stood, shoved the photos and the report back into the envelope and went to the front door. She grabbed her purse, her cell and her keys and slammed the door behind her.

  A rapid rain hit her like a cold shower and by the time she got to her car, her shirt was soaked, making her shiver. She drove away, holding onto the steering wheel with both hands, honking for the other cars to move faster, switching lanes abruptly and causing chaos behind her, but she didn’t care. Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—the wiper blades washed away the rain from her windshield, permitting only few seconds of clear visibility.

  At the next stoplight she seized her cell and pressed the speed dial number.

  “Hi, this is Tessa, Tessa Cosma; I need to see Mrs. Iancu immediately. It’s an emergency.”

  “Mrs. Iancu is with a patient at the moment and will be busy for the reminder of the afternoon. I can get you on her calendar tomorrow afternoon,” the even voice said at the end of the line.

  “Miss, you don’t understand; it’s an emergency,” Tessa said, her voice choking up.

  “She’s booked. As I said, she has an opening tomorrow afternoon.”

  “God dammit, lady. I said it’s an emergency, I need to see her as soon as possible; I can’t wait until tomorrow!”

  Someone jumped in front of Tessa’s car. She stepped on the brakes with such force, the car came to an abrupt stop. She hit her chin on the steering wheel and saw green stars—literally. She heard a muffled noise as she hit something, then a scream. Her neck snapped and pain spread into her spine, down her back. Terrified, she glanced out the window, got out of the car, hurrying in front of it. A teenager lay on his side, holding onto his knee and screaming in pain.

  “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” Tessa bent and tried to support his head in her lap. Then she saw blood on her hand and freaked out. She saw a man approaching and when he got in front of her car she said, “Please call an ambulance!”

  “Yeah, right, like you really believe he’s hurt. He is a gypsy, an idiot who didn’t pay attention. Push him over and let’s move,” the man yelled at her.

  Tessa’s eyes darted from the man’s face to the teenager’s, who at the man’s words, began crying for help.

  “You can’t be serious, right? Get some help, please!” Tessa said.

  “You stupid cow, are you going to drive or what? You’re blocking the traffic, move!” he hit the hood of her car with his fist. When he saw she didn’t stand up, he kicked her car with the side of his shoe and yelled, “Are you deaf? Move!”

  The sound of cars honking came at her from everywhere and more people approached, forcing Tessa to snap out of her shock. She looked down at the teenager who stopped screaming for help, then around her—it felt surreal. She took the teenager’s head from her lap and helped him sit resting against the sidewalk; she stood, her fists clenched at her side. She so wanted to smack that rude man’s face

  “You call me stupid? Who gives you the right? Why did you hit my car?” her voice sounded calm—too calm for the situation at hand.

  The man took a step back, humphing and hitting her car once more. He brushed a hand over his face wiping off the rain, his brows drawn together, a look of defiance plastered on his mug.

  “What, you one of those women who thinks she can drive?” he said, laughing and looking for approval from the people around them. “Or better yet, I bet you got your driver’s license whoring around with the police officer,” he said. His big round gut shook with the rhythm of his laughter—gross—as he walked backwards to his car and mimicking oral sex.

  Tessa looked around her. Other drivers stepped out of their cars, looking at the scene, others continued honking. The rain stopped and Tessa saw the sun peeking shyly from somewhere behind the curtain of heavy clouds, a glow around her. Blood stained her shirt. She walked towards the man swaying her hips, her head slightly bowed, and looked at him as if she would try to seduce him. The man’s facial expression changed from arrogance to confusion.

  Tessa looked down at the man—at least a head shorter than her. She placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and whispered in a slutty voice, tilting her head closer to his ear, “Would you like for me to whore with you, too?” She straightened and smiled seductively at him.

  The man swallowed hard, and tried to smile. He nodded in anticipation.

  “Well then, take this,” she said, and, raising her, knee she hit him in his crotch with a short but powerful kick. The man groaned and fell to the ground, holding his crotch with both hands.

  “This, my friend, will teach you how to show respect to women.” She looked around her, hands on her hips, and waited. A woman close by began clapping, followed by other people, including men.

  Tessa walked back to the boy, knelt next to him and put an arm around his shoulder. She heard an ambulance nearby and police sirens. “We’ll get you help soon,” she said, smiling at the teenager.

  ***

  “Cristian, I need to see you,” Tessa said and took two glasses out of the cupboard. “Whenever you get this message, no matter how late, come to my house. See you later,” she said and hung up. She walked to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of white wine, opened it, poured it into a glass, and drank it at once. She poured a second one and had half of it, smacked her lips and went to the bedroom. She rummaged through her closet and pulled out of a drawer a red, skimpy satin halter and matching kimono wrap, then headed for the bathroom.

  He
r face stung when the water hit it; five stitches on her chin, three on her left temple, both spots hurting like hell. She turned around and let the water wash over her hair, down her body—hopefully it will wash out her thoughts, too. Don’t think. Don’t think.

  Twenty minutes later, she was all dressed and pampered, ready for Cristian to arrive. She swallowed two painkillers for the splitting headache as well as the throbbing forehead cut. She topped her glass of wine and drank it to the bottom. She closed her eyes and drummed her fingernails onto the countertop. Don’t think. Don’t think.

  A slight dizziness fanned out into her head. Maybe I should eat something. She grabbed an apple took a bite out of it, and went into the living room. She turned on the CD-player. The sound of soft music spread through the house. She lit the candles scattered all over the room, and then turned off the lights. She sat on the sofa, chewing on the apple. Don’t think. Don’t think. She finished her wine and closed her eyes.

  She stood when she heard the doorbell, walking over to open the door. Her feet felt heavier and the room seemed to spin.

  “Ah, my friend Cristian. I was hoping you’d come quickly,” Tessa said, her words slurring as she opened the door, her kimono skewed, holding onto the doorframe.

  “Tessa, what in the world has happened to you?” Cristian said.

  She took a few steps backwards for him to enter the house, then locked the door behind him. She squeezed her eyes and opened them immediately, then purred, “It doesn’t matter. That’s not why I called you.” She took his hand, walked into the kitchen and before handing him a glass of wine, took a sip out of it.