Cristian took it and placed it back on the counter. He lifted the hair off her forehead and said, “Did someone hit you? Are you in pain? What happened?” he traced the bandage on her left temple, and lifted her chin. “Did you have an accident?”
Tessa made a grimace, then took his hand and placed it on her own face. “I have a booboo and I need Cristian to take care of me.” She stood on her toes, embraced his shoulders and between kisses, she whispered, “Take me…”
Cristian stood speechless in the middle of Tessa’s kitchen. When she opened the door and he first saw her so beautiful, dressed so scantily, yet so damn sexy, he felt as if he won the lottery. At first, he thought she was excited and nervous about having him there, but then he saw her stitches and realized something was wrong.
She kissed him, rubbed his neck, brushed her fingers through his hair and pressed her hot body against his. Her erect nipples pressed against his chest made him breath hard. He forced his mind to stay clear while his body responded to hers as he expected it would if they’d ever have sex. If. But he knew she was drunk, probably medicated, and that wasn’t how he wanted to have Tessa.
She told him how she felt about him, about their relationship, but no matter how attracted he was to her, he’d never take advantage of someone in her state.
“Come, let’s get you to bed,” he said pressing a finger on her playful mouth—God, she was the best kisser ever! He removed her arms from around his neck, taking a step back.
Tessa leaned against the countertop and lifted his glass. Before he stopped her, she finished the wine in two big gulps. She licked her upper lip, then bit the lower one. She threw her head backwards and laughed mischievously. She grabbed a handful of his shirt and walked backwards, “You naughty boy, can’t wait to have me, can you?”
He played along and walked with her until she stumbled onto her bed, with him on top of her. She bit his lower lip, sucked on it. He tried to push up, but she looped her left leg around his right, pushing her lower abdomen against his. She lifted her head to reach for his mouth, but he turned his head sideways. “Tessa, you have to stop,” he said, his voice ragged.
She stopped for a second and stared at him with glassy eyes, looking confused.
“Come on, Cristian, this is what you wanted it, isn’t it?” She wrestled him again, entwining his legs with hers and, pushing a hand underneath his shirt, she rubbed his nipple.
Cristian held his breath. If he didn’t get away from her, he’d be unable to control himself. With the last bit of will power he could muster, he grabbed her wrist and removed her fingers from his nipple, then pinned both her hands above her head.
“I don’t want to do it. Not like this, not when you are drunk. You need to sleep,” Cristian said, got up and, peeling back a corner of the bed covers, he tucked her in.
He went into the kitchen, opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He didn’t stop drinking until he finished it. He rested both hands on the table’s edge, catching his breath and willing his erection to calm down. It hurt like crazy. But what hurt even more was that he knew Tessa didn’t want him for real. She needed to be drunk first.
He looked at the empty wine bottle; he grabbed it and threw it away. He smelled candles. He walked through her house, into the living room and blew out the candles. He turned off the CD-player, then walked to her bedroom. Her rhythmic breath told him she was asleep.
Cristian pondered if he should leave or stay and decided to stay put. He had never seen her drink alcohol, not even a sip, but tonight she went overboard. She must’ve been in an accident, but he wondered how good of care she received, knowing the Romanian medical system. He found her painkillers and counted them—twenty left out of twenty-four. He wondered if she took all four of them at once or if she ate anything; he hoped she wouldn’t get sick.
Cristian heard the unmistakable noise made by someone vomiting. He rushed to Tessa’s room, turned on the lights and saw her resting on her left elbow, squinting her eyes, a puddle of vomit next to her, her gown soaked in it.
The smell made Cristian’s stomach turn upside-down, “I’ve got you, girl, I’ve got you,” he said, helping her get up.
***
Someone was at her door. Tessa heard the key going in, turning twice, then the door opened and closed slowly. Then someone twisted the key and locked the door.
She swallowed the bile taste in her mouth and willed her eyes to open, but they refused. Her head hurt so much, she held her breath for a moment, then began breathing in and out with long and deep breaths. The headache didn’t disappear, but at least the drumming sound eased up.
Her body ached, especially her neck, and a strong nausea feeling made her stomach roll up and down. She realized she wasn’t in her bed, or on the sofa, but rather on a hard surface. What happened to her? Did she pass out on the floor? Her head rested on a pillow and she was covered. Oh, yes, Cristian came over and…Oh, God, what have I done?
Tessa bolted straight up, her eyes wide open. She was in her living room, on the floor, next to the sofa. The room was semi-dark with the blinds half open. She wore her terry bathrobe—what happened to her gown?
“Good afternoon, sleeping beauty,” Cristian said, handing her a cup of coffee.
Tessa averted her eyes, then shook her head. “I don’t drink coffee,” she murmured. She brought her knees up and rested her head on top of them, clutching onto the robe’s lapels.
“Well, you’ll need it; trust me. I didn’t know if you have any Aspirin in your house, so I went to the pharmacy and got you some, but first you need to eat.” He walked to open up the wood shutters and the bright light coming in made Tessa’s headache explode even more. Then he opened the windows and the fresh air and the street’s noise entered the room.
Cristian brought her a piece of toast with butter and jelly, a glass of water and two aspirins. He brought his own coffee cup and sat next to her, waiting for her to eat.
Tessa took the plate and bit into the bread. At first she thought she’d throw up, but after the second bite, she began feeling somewhat better—at least her stomach didn’t growl anymore. She finished it, took the aspirin and washed them down with half a glass of water. She placed everything on the floor next to her and took the cup of coffee. She had a ton of questions, but was afraid to ask. Did he spend the night with her? Did they go so wild, they had sex on the floor? What else did she do?
Cristian yawned and took a sip of his coffee, then looked sideways at her.
She felt her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She toyed with her coffee, pulled at her bathrobe, avoiding looking directly at Cristian; him staring at her didn’t ease up her anxiety.
“So, you feeling any better? He asked, still gazing at her sideways.
Tessa cleared her throat, took a sip of the coffee and made a grimace. “This is the most horrible tasting thing ever, how can you drink this?” She wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
Cristian laughed, throwing his head backwards and said, “It’s black and if you don’t usually drink coffee it tastes bitter, but you kind of need to drink it that way; it helps the hangover.”
Tessa opened her mouth to say something, but heard the beeping sound of her washing machine.
“Ah, the load is done.” Cristian stood and walked to the laundry room.
Tessa stood and followed him. “You did my laundry?”
One by one he took bed sheets, towels, and her gown out of the machine. She snatched the gown from his hand and hid it under the wet bed sheets in the hamper.
Cristian laughed and said, “Sexy little thing. You’re actually cute when you’re drunk, but next time have some dinner before you wrestle with a bottle of wine.”
“Cristian, stop! I’m embarrassed enough; I have no idea what happened and you continue teasing me! It’s not funny, stop!” she slapped him slightly on his hand.
“Ouch! Are you trying to bruise me so I match you?” He backed off a step, pretending to hurt.
Tessa looked at
him and burst into laughter. She grabbed his hand and said, “Leave this. We need to talk.”
They walked into the kitchen. She filled two glasses with water, then stood across from him.
“You got my message…”
“I sure did. I was on my way home, turned around and came, as you requested.”
“And?” Tessa asked, still incapable to look into his eyes.
“And… you kissed me and you told me something that… something that took me by surprise and I—”
Tessa buried her face in her palms. Embarrassment didn’t even encompass everything she felt. She shook her head then gazed at Cristian.
He looked dead serious.
“You okay?”
He shrugged one shoulder and said, “I don’t usually have drunken women calling me to visit them, then passing out while we go heavily at it, vomiting all night, so I’d say… I feel pretty special.” He brushed a hand through his hair, then spiked it back up.
Tessa looked at him with horror. His face was serious, but there was something in his eyes that confused her.
Cristian held her gaze then burst into laughter.
“What’s there to laugh about?”
“Your face,” he said.
“I’m glad you’re having fun,” Tessa murmured.
Cristian stopped laughing then nudged her shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. What’s done is done. I’m assuming you had a good reason for getting drunk and I’m actually glad you called me—even though it wasn’t for the right reason.”
Tessa sighed, feeling remorse and sadness.
“I need to know; did I…did we?”
“Have sex?” Cristian finished her sentence when she couldn’t. “No, we didn’t.” He looked at her with sad eyes and pressed his lips tight.
“Thank goodness,” she said. A sigh of relief escaped Tessa, then she saw his face go pale, and hurried to say, “Cristian, please don’t get me wrong, I didn’t mean it that way.”
He tried to walk away, but she grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop, and looking deep into his blue eyes she said, “You are one of the nicest guys I have ever met. You’ve been my friend now during a period of my life when I couldn’t trust anyone; but with your candor, your patience, your sense of humor, your passion, you helped me learn how to let people back into my life. I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t.”
Tessa sighed and swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She wiped her tears and continued, “Yesterday was one of those days I’ll probably remember for the rest of my life. I was driving to see my therapist and this young man jumped out of nowhere in front of my car and I got out and saw him lying on the ground. Then another driver came and when I asked for help he said the kid was pretending and I should kick him aside, get in my car and drive away because I was blocking the traffic.
“Then he kicked my car, called me names, and began insulting me. I was taking all that abuse while people crowded around us to see the scene…and something I don’t know what, made me stand up and follow the man back to his car and I…I hit him in his crotch.”
“He insulted you and hit your car? You hit him?” Cristian stared at her with incredulous eyes.
“Yeah. I hit him. I hit him for the teenager hurting and laying on the ground, that he didn’t want to lend a helping hand; for all the women that are out there taking the kind of abuse we take when men think that we can’t drive, or all we know how to do is whore around…I’m so sick of this mentality. Maybe that’s why I want so desperately to have this event we’re working on happen soon, so we can change something. Why do people have to be so hateful? Why is there a need for so much abuse?”
Cristian faced her and wiped off her tears with his thumbs. His face came down to her, as if he wanted to kiss her, then abruptly he hugged her and rocked her slightly.
The embrace felt warm. Tessa closed her eyes and let Cristian rock her—it felt good. Her tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t seem to care. He held her for a while, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“You don’t stop amazing me. I wonder if there are stores around that sell armor, or something,” Cristian said after a while, and when she didn’t say anything, he looked down at her and said, “You know, for protection?”
Tessa pinched his arm then said, “Keep teasing, then no armor will protect you from me.”
Cristian didn’t go home right away. Instead, he helped Tessa hang up her clothes outside on the terrace. Then they cooked together. It turned out he was a passionate cook, showing her how to flip pancakes, tossing them in the air and catching them in the pan, not peeling them off the floor. Later after dinner, they went and rented a movie and returned to her house.
Cristian placed a popcorn bag in the microwave. “So… are you going to tell me why you need a therapist?”
Chapter 20
Spring made the city look somewhat nicer. The fragrant blossoms added a bit of color to the uniform-boring gray buildings. The heartbeat of the city throbbed nonstop with its congested traffic, people hurrying in every direction and music pouring from restaurants and bars. At one point the City Council had tried to rid the streets of all stray dogs—a threat to pedestrians—and captured them, but the media began a “save-the-dogs” campaign in which everyone was encouraged to adopt a dog. Soon enough, the adopted dogs were back on the streets—most people adopted them from the goodness of their heart, but they barely had enough food themselves, let alone enough to raise a dog.
The runaway kids—most of them gypsies—packed the intersections, either begging for money or cleaning cars’ windshields. Now that the weather warmed up, it seemed they assaulted the streets, talking loudly, darting quickly between cars, unaware of the risks they put not only themselves through, but the drivers who needed to pay that much more attention.
Tessa returned from the hospital where the young man she accidentally hit on the road had been released. She gave him a ride home, picked up a few groceries and his medication at the store and made sure he was safe. The family didn’t want to press charges; police found the young man at fault and a lawsuit wouldn’t benefit anyone, except maybe the lawyers and courts. She promised she’d check on him in a few days and she’d take him back to the hospital for his cast-removal.
Victor had called a few times and left messages for her to call him back. In talking with him, Tessa remembered the life she used to enjoy, the adrenaline rush caused by closing a deal, or taking on a new challenge—things she no longer needed to prove herself, nor to fulfill her life.
“Victor, I don’t know what to say. I’m not sure I’m prepared to see everyone,” Tessa said.
“Come on, kiddo. It’ll do you good to get out of the house. I can’t imagine you not being there for the R.O.C.A. opening; think how hard you’ve worked on the project. Remember Mr. Deuvault? He always asks when you’re coming back; besides everyone in the office would love to see you. You are missed, you know?”
Tessa shook her head, listening to Victor. “Okay. I’ll try. But you have to promise you let me go when I say I need to go. And you also have to promise not to try to convince me to return to work. And don’t put me on the spot like you did at the firm’s party announcing some crazy thing again.”
“Huh, you’re still pretentious, aren’t you?”
“Don’t get me started, Victor. You have yet to send me on a vacation, as you promised.”
He didn’t reply right away. Instead, he humphed a few times, then he finally said, “I’ll be damned, you’re right. I still owe you that vacation; why don’t you come over for dinner or something, make arrangements with Dina and we can talk. We’re looking at a few cruises, who knows? Maybe we all go on a vacation.”
“I hate to tell you, but I turned eighteen a long time ago, and don’t need babysitting anymore,” Tessa replied, barely holding a laugh. Then, before Victor could say another word, she said, “I’ll see you soon,” and hung up.
She looked through her mail and found th
e invitation Victor had sent her. The opening was scheduled in two weeks, but it made her feel nervous knowing she’d see everyone there. Would people bombard her with questions? Would Alessandro be there? Would he bring his new girlfriend and her daughter?
The thought of Alessandro made her heart beat faster. If she could turn back time, she’d hold onto him, keep him close to her heart, part of her life, part of her future. When she asked him to leave, she thought it was best for him. She thought she needed to punish herself for wanting her baby dead. What she didn’t know was how much she’d suffer without seeing him, how much she’d miss him. But she knew, turning time back was not an option.
Her phone rang again and thinking Victor called back, she answered laughingly, “What? I was telling the truth—”
“Hello? I’m sorry, is this Tessa, Ms. Tessa Cosma?” a strong baritone voice asked.
“Oh, sorry. I thought it was someone else calling. Who’s asking?”
“It’s me, Officer Borcea. Sorry, to disturb you, is this a bad time?’
“No, absolutely not. I’m glad you called. Do you have news for me?”
The man cleared his throat, followed by, “Ms. Cosma, I think I found your biological father.”
Tessa’s heart skipped a beat. “You did?”
“Yes. I talked with him a few times and today we met for the first time. I told him you’re looking for him and why and he gave me a phone number and an address for you. He said he’d like to meet you.”
“Let me grab a pen and paper, Officer Borcea,” Tessa said, hurrying to her office. “Ready. Give me the address,” she continued. Her hands shook and became sweaty at the same time, but she was able to scribble down the address and the phone number.
“Did he say anything else?”
“Only that this revelation shocked him.”
“Great. Thanks, Officer Borcea, you’ve been so kind to help me find him. I owe you more money; let me know when and where you want to meet me.”
Hidden Heart Page 25
