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Carlo: Not really.
I deflate like a bubble. I swear it feels like someone took a needle and stuck it in me. I manage to text back a reply.
Me: Oh, okay.
Carlo: No, Tori. Shit, I didn’t mean it like that.
Me: You literally said you don’t want me to spend the night at your place. It’s fine, Carlo. Message received.
Carlo: There was no fucking message, woman. It’s just I’m in a bad way right now.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion.
Me: What on earth are you talking about?
Carlo: There was an altercation at the pub and I had to get involved. Safe to say, I’m not in the best state.
My emotions quickly shift to worry.
Me: Why? Are you hurt? I can come meet you. Where are you?
Carlo: No. It’s fine. You don’t need to leave work. Some bastards got the jump on me and I got a few punches to the face is all.
I gasp.
Me: You could have a concussion, that sounds serious!
Carlo: Tori, I promise this is not the first time something like this has happened. I’ll live. But my face is not pretty right now.
Me: That’s why you don’t want me coming over.
Carlo: Yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Me: No. I’m coming over.
Carlo: Tori…
Me: Don’t Tori me. I’m coming over after work to see the extent of the damage myself.
A minute or two passes before he sends a reply.
Carlo: Please bring some ibuprofen when you come.
Something in my heart lurches. What if he’s really hurt? He could very well be downplaying the extent of his injuries. I resolve not to panic and to keep it cool until I can see him.
I get through the rest of the day with him at the forefront of my mind. As soon as I clock off work, I head down to my car and drive to his place. I had planned to go home to change and pack some clothes, but I can wear his clothes tonight and get home early tomorrow morning.
It takes a while for Carlo to answer the door when I ring the doorbell, and I have to stifle a gasp when I take a look at his face. Objectively, I know it’s not that bad. He has one black eye and a bruise on the side of his face. Minimal injuries. And yet, something tugs my heart at the sight.
“What happened to you?”
He smiles softly. “I told you. I got into a fight.”
“And is that something to be proud of?” I snap, a little angry that he got hurt.
Carlo’s expression darkens. “It’s a job hazard, Tori. Sometimes I get hurt. I think you’ve forgotten my work isn’t a fucking picnic.”
I shut my eyes and rub my forehead. This isn’t what I wanted. I really don’t want to fight with him right now.
