If this were a movie, the following story would have unfolded: We would have made up and had mind-blowing sex. But my life is not a movie, and the truth is painfully far from that.

  We set off toward the house, but before we even left the city center, I sat down on a bench, desperately trying to reach the guys to avoid the awkwardness of staying over. William was giving someone a ride, Mark was sleeping like a log, and Jason, my ex, wasn’t even an option. That would have ended badly. The moment I realized I was definitely staying at Dante’s place, I turned pale, and my brain shut down.

  Of course, my long-coveted love interest has problem-solving skills off the charts, he rushed to a 24-hour store and bought two beers.

  “Alcohol is the solution to everything.” – Dante Ross.

  He sat down next to me and handed me one while I just stared ahead, trying to process his words. He wants me. He wants to have me… He sure has a shitty way of showing it, based on my experience.

  I opened the beer and took a long sip.

  An idiot. He always has been…

  And yet, he’s on his way to a doctorate, and he’s going to succeed. The guy is unreal. How can someone be so smart and yet so unbelievably dumb at the same time? Shaking my head, I lifted my gaze to meet his.

  He always looked so cold, yet his touch burned like fire. I had always kept my distance from men like this, but he drew me in.

  I should have just listened to my heart the moment we met, hitting someone and running away is easier than fixing something that’s completely broken. But I didn’t, and I hate myself for it.

  Once we finished our drinks, we continued on our way. Now I wasn’t just mad at him but at myself, too. I finally stopped blaming him for choosing the harder path when I hadn’t chosen the easy one either. And that’s how we ended up fighting in his room, or rather, I was the one arguing.

  I kept going on and on about all the bad decisions he had made, to the point where he couldn’t even get a word in. But honestly, what could he have said? He knows he messed everything up.

  Even while I was changing, I kept lecturing him. He just sat there in silence, watching my shadow on the wall.

  My borrowed pajamas consisted of drawstring shorts and a T-shirt from his closet. Though, thanks to his towering height, the T-shirt alone was basically a nightgown.

  He said he needed some time, went to take a shower, and changed into something comfortable as well. By the time he came back, I had finally calmed down, but he still had nothing to say. He quietly made the bed, asked if I had any objections to sleeping next to him, and when I said no, he just collapsed onto the mattress.

  Neither of us took long to drift off in the dim light. When I woke up the next morning, it felt like I had slept for a thousand years. I had never felt so rested.

  Even though his window had curtains, the morning sunlight still filtered in, making the place look annoyingly aesthetic. The gray walls, illuminated by the light, contrasted beautifully with the dark wooden floor. His simple furniture had a vintage feel, yet the beige bed made the whole room look modern. But without a doubt, the main attraction of the space was Dante’s peaceful face.

  His pale skin wasn’t tight with troubled thoughts, his cherry-colored lips were slightly parted as he breathed softly, and his black curls fell into his face as if they were meant to be there.

  He was at one end of the king-sized bed, I was at the other, yet it felt like an abyss separated us.

  Maybe he could sense that I was watching him because he stirred awake, his steel-blue eyes landing on me. He blinked a few times, smacked his lips sleepily, then let out a tired smile.

  “Did you finally find your spine in your dreams?” He squinted at me. “Cause if not, then suck yourself.” I turned my back on him and let out a quiet sigh.

  “Good morning to you too,” he murmured, his deep voice brushing against my back.

  In an instant, the strong and confident woman disappeared, replaced by a wounded prey. I pulled the blanket over myself as if it could protect me from anything.

  Dante, however, said nothing more. He just got out of bed and left the room.

  While he was gone, I had time to get dressed, but I didn’t go overboard, just put my bra back on under the oversized T-shirt and changed into different shorts.

  No noise filtered in from outside. I doubted he lived alone, though, I couldn’t allow myself to believe that. Sure, his parents had bought him a car, but a whole apartment too? I didn’t believe they could afford that. Or maybe I just didn’t want to believe it.

  A little while later, he returned, setting down two cups of coffee on his desk before going back to the door and bringing in a chair to place beside the other one.

  My heart softened. I had spoken to him so cruelly the moment I woke up. He didn’t deserve that.

  “Take a seat,” he gestured toward one of the chairs. Without hesitation, I complied, and he sat down beside me.

  There wasn’t much on the desk, just a laptop, a few notebooks, and a couple of books.

  “Thank you. And I’m sorry about earlier.”

  “Have you calmed down?” He ran his long fingers through his unruly curls, his tired eyes fixed on me.

  “I’m still angry, but yelling at you won’t make me feel better. I’m done.” I took a sip from my cup. Dante just propped his elbow on the table and started massaging his temple.

  “After last night, I should hope so. I was seriously considering digging a grave, it would’ve made it easier for you to put me in one. I was so ashamed of myself.”

  “I’m sorry.” I adjusted my hair. I really was.

  “Don’t be. Everything you said was true…” He took a sip of his coffee. I wished I could be that cup.

  “Your parents?”

  “They left yesterday to visit my sister. They’ll be back tonight.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “I do. She’s five years older than me. Her name is Jane.”

  “If no one’s home, then why did we sleep together?”

  “I wanted to be close to you. Is that a problem? I felt like I needed it.” He lifted the porcelain to his lips again and took a long drink. I did the same. “I didn’t know how to react to everything you threw at me yesterday, so we need to make time for that now. I hope you’re free.”

  “I’m not in a rush.”

  “So… the kiss.” His attention was entirely on me again, though he seemed more focused on my lips than my face. “I wanted to. I had alcohol in me…” When don’t you, Dante? “I felt like I could, so I did. It doesn’t matter what anyone says. I’m telling you this, for you. Do you believe me?”

  “I have no reason to think you’re lying. You’ve only ever given, you’ve never taken.” Now that I thought about it, his words hit me strangely.

  For months, I had been consumed by doubt, and now he was laying the truth bare, with no hesitation. I felt a bit of warmth, but no butterflies… Yet, with that, the heart-wrenching pain was gone too. There was nothing left inside me but emptiness. I was numb, and my head was buzzing loudly.

  A tingling sensation ran through my body, every part of me screaming to run, but I couldn’t move. The sunlight filled the room as if that was its sole purpose, yet I could feel the stillness before the storm.

  “And as for the whole ‘corruption’ thing…” His voice was quiet, did the walls have ears? “I’m not a virgin. I had a relationship once, it lasted a few months. She was my first… for everything.”

  “How did it fall apart?”

  He looked at me strangely. The moment I voiced the question, I realized I already knew the answer.

  “I was so focused on living up to my family’s expectations that I forgot how not to disappoint others. In the end, I failed in everyone’s eyes… except my parents’.”

  “Have you ever thought that they wouldn’t see you any differently if you scored 80% on a test instead of 100?”

  “Maybe. But I would see myself differently. I’d disappoint myself.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. And that led to… well, this.” I gestured between us, but he didn’t look at me.

  We continued drinking our coffee in silence until our cups were empty.

  “That shirt looks good on you.”

  “I like it too.”

  “Keep it.”

  “Dante…” I sighed. His foggy eyes found mine. “Does alcohol solve your problems?”

  “Maybe.”

  “The answer is a definite no, Dante. It doesn’t solve anything.”

  “I know, okay? I want to get help for it, but I don’t have the time. I know it’s unhealthy, but I just… I don't know how else to live.”

  “You’re an alcoholic in your twenties.” He didn’t respond to the statement. He just turned his head away. “Do your parents know?”

  “No, they don’t…” He buried his face in his hands. I felt like I had no choice but to place my fingers on his shoulder. “No one knows. Maybe they suspect, but no one’s said anything. How did you figure it out?”

  “You’re different when you’re drunk. And it’s obvious when you’re sober, because I rarely see you that way.”

  Silence again. But not the loud, awkward kind. This silence gutted and devoured from within, at least, that’s what I saw in Dante’s face. His expression pulsed with emotion, his hands trembled slightly, as if he could collapse under the weight at any moment.

  But he held himself together.

  “Look, I’m here.”

  “I don’t want to cry at every one of our meetings and act like an idiot. And what I did yesterday wasn’t okay either.”

  “Could you explain?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I took you to a bar so it would be easier to talk to you. But you deserve my sober thoughts, not my drunken nonsense. And yet, you got more of the latter.”

  “That’s still you.”

  “No, it’s not. Once, I followed you to the pub when you went in. I lied to the others, said I was going to get drinks, but… I just wanted to keep an eye on you.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “I act selfishly. And if anything happened, you’d probably protect me before I could protect you… because you’re never drunk.”

  “Let’s talk about something else, okay?” My fingers trailed from his shoulder down to his hand, gently prying it away from his face until he looked at me.

  “Okay. Who told you all this bullshit?” The question burst from his lips like he had been waiting for it. It was time for me to be honest.

  “I heard bits and pieces from James, but mostly from Christopher. He said he heard it from someone else… Danis. But I didn’t ask anyone else.”

  “James? What does your friend and Danis have to do with this?”

  Hearing it out loud, a simple question crossed my mind, who even was Danis?

  I guessed it didn’t matter right now. I could come back to it later.

  “I have no idea…” I shook my head. I really didn’t. “One time, James showed up at a basketball game with a massive black eye. The next day, he talked about you like he’d been conducting a private investigation. Which, honestly, wasn’t a dumb idea… When I told him how angry I was with you, he didn’t say anything, just that he’d take the burden off my shoulders from then on.”

  “A black eye?”

  “I don’t get it either. But he said he heard things. He never explained the bruise.”

  “Chris and Danis…” He whispered their names, lost in thought. After a few seconds, he spoke again. “It doesn’t add up.”

  “Chris has been acting weird lately. He even asked me out on a date, but… it was like he wasn’t himself. He was so serious. His smile hid something aggressive, I could feel it.”

  “All through high school, he was always positive and smiling like an idiot. He took his nursing studies more seriously than anyone. It’s hard to believe what you’re saying.”

  “So that’s where we are now? You don’t believe me?”

  “No, it’s just hard to believe.” He let out a soft smile. I had to look away, it was difficult enough to focus on this conversation without acknowledging how badly I was falling for him.

  “The guys even made a joke out of it. They said he might be sick…” As I recalled the moment, Jason’s face flashed in my mind. If he hadn’t been there… It was terrifying to think about.

  “What if he really is sick?” Dante mused out loud, and our eyes met immediately.

  “Is there any illness that causes symptoms like that?”

  “No idea…” He shook his head. “I want to be a heart surgeon, not a psychologist.”

  “Kinda funny how a heart surgeon was the one who broke mine.”

  “We’ve got the diagnosis, miss. I’ll be prescribing kisses as treatment soon.”

  “What?”

  “What?”

  “What?!”

  “Nothing!” He blurted out, turning his head away as he chuckled softly to himself.

  He had definitely caught me off guard, and if I tried to cover my blushing face, it would only make it worse.

  “Back to psychology,” I sighed. In a fraction of a second, he turned serious again. “Has anyone we know pursued it further?”

  “You can imagine, no one wants to be a shrink.”

  “So where do we even start?”

  “For starters… I’ll ask around about Chris, and you…” He trailed off, then opened his laptop, typed in his password, and slid it in front of me.

  Finding a needle in a haystack. Perfect.

  Dante pulled out his phone, sat back down next to me, stretched out his long legs, and started making calls. Whoever was on the other end didn’t get a moment to hesitate, Dante got straight to the point. He said he wanted to know about Chris, about his life, past and present. Most of the time, he simply responded to their answers with a murmured “ah-ah” before moving on.

  After several calls, he rummaged through his desk drawer, pulling out an ashtray, a cigarette, and a lighter. His eyes flicked to me, silently asking me to open the window.

  By the time I returned from my short trip, he was already smoking. That’s when I truly became aware of the scents in the room, the air was filled with a mix of Dante’s scent and cigarette smoke.

  It bothered me.

  For the first time, I was irritated by the blend of fresh air and burning tobacco. I buried my nose in the shirt he had given me and inhaled deeply.

  Dante glanced at me, then smiled awkwardly. The pink tinge on his porcelain skin was unmistakable. I hadn’t even fully processed all the emotions of the day, but my heart was reacting before my brain could catch up. It felt like it wanted to jump out of my chest.

  I had slept next to him, woken up beside him, and now I was spending the whole day with him. Never in my wildest dreams did I think my desires would take shape like this.

  I wanted to take advantage of it, go over to him, wrap my arms around his broad shoulders, rest in the crook of his neck. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe alcohol really could be a solution sometimes, if I were drunk, I’d have the courage.

  Instead, I ignored my heart’s plea, sat back down beside him, and continued researching psychological disorders.

  “Dante, maybe… a personality disorder?” I whispered. He immediately looked up.

  I hated his eyes. They were far too expressive.

  “Borderline?” He asked after muting his call.

  “I doubt it. It’s not that extreme.”

  He just gave a small nod and continued his conversation. We weren’t getting any closer to an answer.

  He even asked his friends if anyone knew about us, but the response was a resounding no, followed by a flood of questions. Dante didn’t answer them. He just hung up.

  “Isn’t this going to cause even more trouble?”

  “You’re already here. We’ll talk it out if something happens.” His voice was calm and steady, at least in this, he was sure. Though I doubted he wouldn’t disappear again.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Digging through your porn history,” I sighed, looking at his laptop. “Personality disorders stem from childhood trauma, sometimes medication, drugs… or alcohol.” I tilted my head, and he hummed thoughtfully.

  “His mother used to take him away sometimes. There were rumors that he saw a psychologist. Mystery solved, he has a personality disorder.”

  “Oh, come on, Dante! You can’t just slap a diagnosis on someone based on that. You know that, you’re going to be a doctor.”

  “Yeah, but not a psychologist. I can’t just figure out why someone snapped after one conversation.”

  “That still doesn’t make it okay. We should look into it more.”

  “I’m listening.” He rubbed his temple, looking flustered.

  I wasn’t used to playing detective with anyone but Elizabeth. I didn’t know how to just lower my walls and flood someone with my nonsense.

  “I don’t know…” I buried my face in my hands and closed my eyes.

  If we wanted to know more about him, we should ask him directly. But that was complicated. I couldn’t just walk up to Chris and say, “Hey, by the way, are you sick? Got any paperwork on that? I totally get you! We’ll figure this out together.” If it wasn’t true and something else was going on, it would end badly. Not to mention the consequences. So how could I find out more without asking him directly? Hire someone to hack into his social media? No, there had to be an easier way.

  “Does he have any siblings?”

  “Does Derek count?”

  “What?” I looked up at him. He was staring at the ceiling.

  “They grew up together. If anyone knows something, it’s him.”

  “Alright, so… good cop, bad cop?”

  “That wouldn’t get us anywhere.” He lit another cigarette, and I followed his lead in crime.

  “Besides, neither of us are aggressive types. Derek could just get up and leave.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “Invite him to lunch. You’re a woman, he’ll say yes.”

  “I didn’t know my anatomy came with a user manual on what it’s good for and what it’s not…” I mused, taking a deep drag from my cigarette.

  Dante furrowed his brows, realizing he’d said something dumb.

  “Sorry.” He exhaled through his nose. “Look, I just meant that he’s more likely to say yes to you than to me.”

  “It’s worth a shot.” I raised my hands in surrender. “But you have to get my phone.”

  “Where is it?”

  “In my coat.”

  He dragged himself up as if his body was weighed down, even though my coat was only three meters away, hanging on the door. He handed me my phone, dictated Derek’s number, and instead of sitting back on the chair, he dropped onto the bed.

  “The ashtray,” I reminded him.

  He groaned in lazy protest, so I carried it over to him while dialing the number and sat down on the floor. Derek picked up immediately. I introduced myself, we exchanged pleasantries about our morning, then arranged to meet for lunch. We didn’t settle on a time, I’d text him later to confirm. Throughout the entire conversation, I kept my eyes on Dante. He didn’t look away from me either. I ended the call while we continued to stare at each other.

  “What now?” I asked quietly as I stubbed out my cigarette.

  “How about I make us breakfast, and then we spend the rest of the day in bed?”

  “But I already got dressed…”

  “Then change back. You already let it slip that you’re not in a hurry, and the bus isn’t an issue, I have a car.”

  With that, he left me alone again, the room falling silent.

  If we were really going to stick to this plan, there was no point in suffering in jeans, they weren’t comfortable, and they always left marks on my stomach. I tidied up a bit, putting the cigarette, ashtray, and lighter back in the drawer, then changed back into my “pajamas.”

  Even though he didn’t ask, I grabbed our coffee cups before following him to the kitchen. When we arrived last night, I had roughly mapped out the house, noting where the bathroom and dining room were. That was about the extent of my detective skills.

  During the day, the kitchen looked much more inviting. But what really warmed my heart was the sight of Dante.

  Dressed in gray shorts and a black T-shirt, he was stirring eggs at the stove, his posture slightly hunched, every inch of his body radiating exhaustion.

  I stepped up to the sink and began rinsing out the cups, I didn’t want the leftover coffee to dry up inside them out of laziness.

  “That’s considered rude in some places,” he pointed out.

  “In my house, it means the guest feels at home.”

  I didn’t look at him, but my peripheral vision caught his surprised expression perfectly. Not knowing where the glasses belonged, I simply dried them and left them on the counter.

  “What are you making?”

  “Stuffed French toast. Want to help?”

  “I’ll make the sandwiches.”

  I smiled at him, and my good mood must have been contagious, he grinned back at me, more openly and genuinely than I had ever seen before.

  With a small nod, he explained where to find everything, then left the task in my hands. It didn’t take long to prepare breakfast. Washing up afterward would take longer.

  A few minutes later, we were eating in the dining room, the silence between us far more comfortable than the one in his bedroom.

  “Are you mad at me?” His simple question called for a simple answer, and I shook my head. “Are you angry?”

  “I was. But I understand you now.”

  “I’ll try to drink less.”

  I nearly choked on my toast. As I coughed violently, he quickly filled my empty glass with water from the pitcher and slid it in front of me. I drank from it, but I was still struggling to breathe.

  Because of me? How long has he been living like this? Would he really change for me?

  “Don’t you dare choke on me,” he muttered.

  “Relax, doc…” I managed to say, taking another sip. Once I caught my breath, I continued, “Not like you could do anything about it anyway.”

  “Don’t call me that…” His expression softened as I recovered. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “You honor me.”

  “What?” He raised an eyebrow, but I just smiled and shook my head.

  Why did that make me so happy?

  As we finished breakfast, we talked about lighter topics, trying to get to know each other better. If this were a movie, we would have already been tangled up in each other, whispering a thousand promises about growing old together and becoming one with the earth.

  But this wasn’t a movie.

  A drunken kiss meant nothing. We didn’t really know each other. We couldn’t build a future on childish desires. And yet… What was happening between us felt so cinematic. I couldn’t let myself get too caught up in it, or I was in for a massive fall.

  Once I finished eating, I walked back to the kitchen. Dante had handled the complicated part of breakfast, so I took care of the dishes. History repeated itself. First, I felt the warmth of his chest against my back. Then, his arms wrapped around me. Finally, his head rested on my shoulder. For a moment, he said nothing, just inhaled my scent quietly. I turned my head slightly toward him. He tightened his embrace just a little, and our eyes met, only centimeters separated our lips. Neither of us closed the distance. We just stared at each other, as if the image between us could blur at any second.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  His words were so loud that they stirred the butterflies resting in my stomach. Slowly, he let me go, casting me one last meaningful glance before heading back to his room. I wished I were an astronaut. Then maybe I could explore the vast emptiness inside his heart.