Mario didn't know how they would get through it, but they would. He only knew that, in the meantime, everything felt like hell. They tried not to give each other too much attention, to avoid getting lost in conversation. They did everything they could to avoid falling back into each other's arms. But it wasn't easy. In the first few days, if Lara was in the living room, Mario would shut himself in the study. When Lara went to her room, Mario took possession of the rest of the house. They exchanged greetings now and then, no questions, no plans. It was painfully difficult.
Finally, one evening Mario decided to try going out. He called Matteo and they agreed to meet at the GIN pub, as usual. Maybe talking with a friend would help.
The pub was an old place with dark bricks and worn wood. Dim lights cast soft shadows on scratched tables, while voices and laughter blended with the rock music coming from the speakers. The air was thick with the smell of beer and fried food, dense and familiar.
Mario stared at the mug in front of him, the foam slowly dissolving like an illusion destined to vanish. Matteo, across the table, ran a hand through his brown hair and shook his head.
"I don't believe it, man. You're really saying you live together, but as roommates?"
Mario lifted his gaze and shrugged, as if the weight of the situation had just slid off his back. "Yeah, it's the only thing we can do right now. Leaving would be too complicated. And besides... that's our home."
Matteo stared at him in disbelief. "Your home? It's purgatory, not a home." He took a sip of beer and added, more seriously, "Mario, you're playing with fire. Do you know what this break means? That she's free to go out. Don't tell me you don't know that."
Mario swallowed. His friend's words felt like needles under his skin. He looked at the mug, then at Matteo's dark eyes, full of a concern he didn't want to acknowledge.
