One Hour Later
An hour had passed since Chloé's collapse. She had remained there, lying on the sofa, curled up into herself as if to protect herself from the world. Dry tear tracks still stained her cheeks, and her messy hair framed her tired face. She was sleeping, seemingly peaceful, but her breath still trembled slightly, as if her nightmares hadn't truly left her. A heavy silence weighed on the room, broken only by the ticking of the wall clock. Then, slow footsteps came down the stairs. Carlos appeared, wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans, looking half-intrigued, half-softened.
Seeing her there, so vulnerable, his gaze softened. He approached the sofa, sat down gently beside her, and then, with a slow movement, brushed away the strands of hair stuck to her forehead.
**Carlos (whispering):**
_ Poor Chloé... you're so beautiful, even when you've been crying. I really wonder who the idiot is that put you in this state.
He stayed there for a moment contemplating her, his gaze sliding over her face as if searching to understand what she was hiding behind her silence. But at that exact moment, the living room door opened slowly with a sharp creak.
Lorenzo walked in, his face closed, his features tense, his fists clenched. He had just spent an hour outside in his car, fighting with himself. And what he discovered at that very instant shattered everything he was trying to hold back.
His eyes fell on Carlos, sitting so close to her, his fingers almost touching her skin. Jealousy shot through his body like an electric shock. His gaze turned pitch black, his jaw clenched, and his voice snapped—deep, rough, and vibrating with anger.
**Lorenzo (in a rough voice):**
_ What the fuck are you doing so close to my wife, asshole?
The tone was icy, dripping with raw possessiveness. Carlos started, immediately looking up. The gaze he locked eyes with was barely human: it was that of a wounded man, driven mad by a mix of jealousy and love.
Lorenzo slammed the door behind him so hard that the impact shook the frame hanging on the wall. In two strides, he was on Carlos, violently grabbing him by the collar, almost lifting him off the ground, his eyes burning.
**Carlos (furious):**
_ Get off me, man! Are you crazy or what? Who the hell do you think you are, seriously?
**Lorenzo (eyes bloodshot):**
_ I'm her husband, and I'm warning you, if I see you within a meter of her again, I'll break you.
**Carlos (losing his temper):**
_ Man, you think she belongs to you or something? She does whatever she wants, and I...
He didn't get to finish. Lorenzo's fist crashed into his jaw with brutal force. The impact echoed through the room. Carlos fell heavily to the ground, stunned, holding his cheek, his glare dark with anger.
Short of breath, Lorenzo stood there, his fists still clenched, his chest heaving up and down at full speed. His eyes, red with anger and pain, settled on Chloé, who was still asleep.
At that moment, Valentina burst into the living room, alerted by the noise. Seeing the scene, she rushed toward her cousin, furious.
**Valentina (screaming):**
_ Lorenzo, have you completely lost your mind?! How could you hit my cousin like that?! And by the way, what are you still doing here?!
**Lorenzo (surprised, dumbfounded):**
_ Your cousin? This guy is your cousin?
**Valentina (furious):**
_ Yes, my cousin! And I advise you to get the hell out of here right now, because you've seriously crossed the line this time!
Lorenzo remained motionless, frozen, his breathing ragged. His fingers were still trembling, his heart pounding wildly.
**Lorenzo (in a commanding voice):**
_ I'm not leaving. Not until Chloé is doing better.
**Valentina (sighing, exasperated):**
_ But can't you see she's sleeping, Lorenzo? Give her some damn space to breathe.
**Lorenzo (cold, firm):**
_ Stay out of this, Val. This is between her and me, don't interfere.
His words fell like a wall. Valentina stood frozen, powerless against the tension hanging in the air.
Lorenzo turned back to Chloé, still asleep on the sofa, completely oblivious to the chaos that had just erupted around her. Her peaceful face contrasted violently with the electric tension still floating in the room.
Without a word, Lorenzo leaned down. He picked her up gently, lifting her bridal-style, with a rare gentleness for a man usually so brutal. It looked as if he were carrying something incredibly precious, as if his life depended on her.
**Lorenzo (calmly):**
_ Show me Chloé's bedroom. I'm going to put her to bed, she'll be better off upstairs.
Valentina, still shocked by the scene, remained speechless. Without a word, she simply nodded and headed toward the stairs, followed by Lorenzo, who climbed up slowly, holding Chloé tight against him.
Downstairs, silence fell again. Left alone, Carlos wiped the blood dripping from his split lip. His gaze was dark, filled with hatred. He spat on the ground, his breath shallow.
**Carlos (muttering through his teeth):**
_ You're going to pay for this, you stupid bastard. All these hits… you're going to give them back to me, asshole.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Lorenzo entered the room Valentina had just opened. The place still smelled of Chloé's sweet perfume, the one he knew all too well. He approached the bed and laid her down gently, adjusting the pillow under her head. Then he pulled the sheet over her, stroking her hair with a slow, protective gesture.
Valentina, staying by the door, watched the scene without daring to speak. She saw a different Lorenzo in that moment—not the hot-headed bad boy, but a sincere, fragile man, almost broken. She finally turned away in silence and left the room, softly closing the door behind her.
Left alone now, Lorenzo sat at the edge of the bed. His gaze drifted over Chloé's peaceful face. A deep wave of emotion crossed his eyes. He placed his hand on her hair, letting his voice soften.
**Lorenzo (in a low voice):**
_ You're the most beautiful thing that has happened to me in a long time. I can't lose you, Chloé… even if it's hard for you to understand me, even if you can't love me like before without being afraid. I know I'm not perfect, but I can change, I swear to you.
He paused, his throat tight.
**Lorenzo (in a low voice):**
_ If it takes years for you to forgive me, I'll wait. For as long as it takes.
His words, whispered into the silence, floated in the air like a promise he was making to himself. He gently lowered his head and pressed a kiss to Chloé's forehead, his lips barely brushing her skin. Then he stood up, exhausted.
He went to sit on the small sofa across from the bed, his body heavy, his eyes tired. But even seated, he didn't take his eyes off her. He stared at her, as if his only mission in life from now on was to watch over her.
Downstairs, the house seemed quiet again. Valentina, sitting on the couch, was distractedly scrolling through her phone, still shaken by what had just happened. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
She jumped slightly, stood up, quickly adjusted her mini-shorts and pulled up her low-cut top. With a quick step, she went to open the door… and froze.
**Valentina (surprised):**
_ Marco?… but… what are you doing here?
The young man stood there, hands in his pockets, looking serious. His voice was calm, almost cold, but his eyes betrayed a nervousness he couldn't control.
**Marco (calmly):**
_ Hey, how are you?
**Valentina (awkwardly):**
_ Uh… good. Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you. Come in, I…
**Marco (cutting her off):**
_ No, I just want you to call Lorenzo for me. I can't reach him, and I need to speak to him urgently.
**Valentina (gently):**
_ He's here, but he's with Chloé. And honestly, it's not a good time. He's not in his right mind, believe me. Something serious is going on between those two, things are messy.
She paused, searching for her words.
**Valentina (calmly):**
_ Come in if you want, we can wait for him to come back down, then you can…
**Marco (sharply):**
_ No, forget it. I don't want to intrude.
He turned around, ready to leave, his gaze evasive. But Valentina's trembling voice caught him just before he reached the steps.
**Valentina (voice trembling):**
_ The guy you saw yesterday… he wasn't my boyfriend. He's my cousin.
Marco froze. His heart leaped. He turned around slowly, staring at her. A spark of relief flashed through his eyes, quickly hidden behind a falsely detached expression.
**Marco (proud, a bit cold):**
_ I didn't ask you for explanations.
The words came out on their own, like a defense mechanism. He wanted to seem indifferent, but inside, everything was racing. A warmth rose in his chest—a mix of relief, regret, and pride.
Valentina felt her heart tighten. She looked down for a second, then raised her head with wounded pride.
**Valentina (calmly):**
_ Yeah, you're right. I don't have to justify myself to you. You're just a coward, Marco.
**Marco (surprised):**
_ Me, a coward? Wait, I...
The door slammed shut before he could finish. Valentina had just shut it right in his face, sharply, without hesitating. The sound echoed through the courtyard. Marco stood frozen for a moment, dumbfounded. Then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head.
**Marco (eyes wide):**
_ Wow… what is her problem, seriously? Is she completely crazy or what?
He gave the door a light, frustrated kick, then turned on his heel. Walking back to his car, he felt his throat tighten. The mask of pride he wore began to crack.
**Marco (muttering in a low voice):**
_ You're so stupid, Marco. You just had to tell her how you feel… and you ruined everything again by playing hard to get.
He got into his car, his gaze empty, his heart heavy, unable to admit that he was already starting to miss Valentina.
## In the Middle of the Night
Night had fallen a long time ago. Silence reigned in Valentina's apartment, cut only by the steady sound of rain hitting the windowpanes and the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the bedroom. Chloé had just woken up after long hours of sleep. She blinked several times, pushed back the hair stuck to her face, and observed the room plunged into a peaceful darkness. A faint bluish light slipped through the curtains, giving the setting an atmosphere that was both cold and reassuring.
When her eyes adjusted to the dark, she leaned back against the pillows and, at the same time, distinguished a motionless silhouette in the corner of the room: Lorenzo. Slouched on the sofa, his head tilted to the side, he was sleeping deeply, his features relaxed, almost fragile.
Chloé frowned, incredulous.
**Chloé (low voice):**
– What the hell is he doing here? Wasn't he supposed to have gone home?
A mix of surprise and emotion tightened her chest. She suddenly remembered their discussion from that afternoon, everything he had confessed to her, everything she had felt despite herself. Without thinking too much, she pushed back the sheets, placed her feet on the cold floor, and slowly approached him.
Arriving right beside him, she squatted down and stared at him for a moment. He looked so calm, so different from the arrogant man she knew. Her gaze slid over his eyelashes, his square jaw, his half-open lips. A discreet smile escaped her.
Then she gently tapped his shoulder.
**Chloé (gently):**
– Lorenzo… Lorenzo, wake up, you…
She didn't even have time to finish before Lorenzo moved, blinked his eyes open, and sat up with a start. Still half-asleep, he looked at her, worried.
**Lorenzo (panicked):**
– Chloé? You're awake? How do you feel? Do you need something?
**Chloé (calm but distant):**
– What are you doing here at this hour?
**Lorenzo (seriously):**
– I stayed to watch over you. And that's what I'm going to keep doing. Go back to bed, I'll stay on the couch.
Chloé remained silent. She wanted to tell him to leave, to push him away, to remind him that she didn't need him… but her heart wouldn't follow through. Deep down, she wanted him to stay. She wanted to feel his presence, his scent, that reassuring warmth he radiated despite everything.
**Lorenzo (worried):**
– Do you want something to eat? Val must be asleep, but if you want, I can whip something up for you. Are you hungry?
**Chloé (broken voice):**
– No… I don't want to eat anything. I just want to sleep. My head is spinning and…
She didn't have time to finish. A sudden, brutal wave of nausea cut her off completely. Without warning, she rushed toward the bathroom, pushed the door half-shut, and threw herself over the sink. The sound of retching echoed through the room.
Lorenzo, panicked, ran in behind her.
**Lorenzo (panicked):**
– Chloé! What's wrong? Are you okay?
**Chloé (gasping):**
– Get out… get out of here and close the door.
**Lorenzo (hesitating):**
– But Chloé, I can't leave you l—
**Chloé (weakly):**
– Lorenzo, please… get out.
He obeyed without pushing it, closing the door, his jaws clenched. A few minutes later, Chloé finished throwing up. She stayed motionless for a moment, short of breath, her arms trembling. Her hair clung to her damp face, her reddened eyes bearing witness to her exhaustion.
She stood up slowly, leaning against the wall to keep her balance, then undressed before turning on the faucet. The lukewarm water glided over her skin, slightly soothing the burn in her throat. She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her face, as if she wanted to wash away everything she was feeling.
**Chloé (inner voice):**
_ This is all I needed... I hate throwing up. I don't know what's happening to me, but I feel completely drained. My head is spinning, I just want to sleep and forget everything... absolutely everything.
A few minutes later, she turned off the water. Without even drying herself, she slipped into a light pajama set—matching pants and shirt—then ran a hand through her soaked hair. Her face was an alarming shade of pale. Opening the door, she came face-to-face with Lorenzo.
He was standing there, arms crossed, looking tense. His gaze softened immediately upon seeing her. Without thinking, he stepped closer, placing his hands against her damp cheeks with infinite tenderness.
**Lorenzo (worried):**
_ Chloé... you look terrible. You're so pale. Tomorrow, we're going back home, okay? The doctor will come examine you.
Chloé remained silent. Her eyes, empty of emotion, lost themselves in his. The silence hurt him more than a slap.
**Lorenzo (gently pleading):**
_ Chloé, are you even listening to me? If you want me to stay away from you, I will... but just let me take you back home. You're not safe here and...
**Chloé (weakly):**
_ Just take me back to my bed. I'm not in the mood to fight, not right now... I'm exhausted.
Her voice was so weak it was barely a whisper. Lorenzo clenched his jaw to hide his anxiety. Without a word, he lifted her gently into his arms, as if she might break. He carried her to the bed, laid her down with care, then covered her with the sheet.
He sat beside her for a moment, watching her without daring to speak.
**Lorenzo (calmly):**
_ Are you cold? Do you want me to...
**Chloé (cutting him off gently):**
_ I just want you to go back to your couch and let me sleep... please.
Lorenzo felt a pang in his heart. But deep down, the simple fact that she was speaking to him without anger, with this tired softness, was already a victory. He managed a slight smile.
**Lorenzo (in a steady voice):**
_ Can I at least give you a goodnight kiss?
Those words made Chloé's heart beat a little faster. She closed her eyes and turned her back, unable to answer. Her silence was enough to say it all.
**Lorenzo (whispering with a sad smile):**
_ I'll take your silence as a yes.
He leaned down slowly toward her, his warm breath brushing her skin. His lips pressed into the crook of her neck, leaving a long, tender kiss, heavy with emotion. Chloé felt a wave of goosebumps run through her entire body. She squeezed her eyes shut a bit tighter, barely holding back a sigh.
**Lorenzo (whispering against her skin):**
_ Don't forget that I love you, Chloé. No matter what happens, I love you.
He stayed for one more second, his forehead resting against her shoulder, then pulled back slowly. Soundlessly, he went back to sit on the sofa. His gaze remained locked onto her, unable to look away.
On the bed, Chloé was trembling slightly. Her heart was beating so hard she felt like it was going to explode.
Chloé (inner voice):
_ And I... I love you too. I love you like crazy, more than I ever thought I could love someone. Even if it hurts to know who you really are, even if everything is complicated... I love you.
Outside, the rain continued to fall, patterning the night with its murmur. In that silence full of emotion, two hearts still beat as one—one on the couch, the other under the sheets—bound by a love that no distance could ever truly put out.
To be continued…