Hearts on Hold - Scene 05

The darkness of the study was thick, but Mario couldn't feel safe. He had fallen into a heavy sleep, dragged down by the grappa and the turmoil of his thoughts, but something had startled him awake. A noise outside, the sound of a car stopping in the driveway in front of the house.

Instinctively, he got up, his bare feet meeting the cold floor. He moved to the window, slightly pulling back the curtain. The headlights were blinding, warping the shapes. There was someone in the driver's seat, a male figure, and Lara was sitting next to him in the passenger seat. Mario felt his chest tighten.

The automatic lights turned off, leaving him staring into darkness. He could barely make out the two figures sitting in the car. The silence grew heavy, broken only by the ticking of his anxiety. He strained to see, to understand what was happening. Who was that man? How long had they been sitting there? What were they waiting for? "Come on, Lara, get out of that car," Mario thought.

Time felt liquid, stretched. Endless minutes in which Mario desperately tried to make sense of the situation. He thought he saw Lara lean toward the man in the driver's seat. But maybe not--it was too dark to see clearly. Then, finally, the passenger door opened. Lara stepped out with an uncertain movement, her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. The man's voice reached him, muffled by the night:

-- Are you okay? Do you want me to walk you up?

Mario held his breath. He could hear the smile in Lara's voice as she replied:

-- No, no... I'm good. Thanks so much.

She had been drinking; it was obvious. Her voice had that husky, softened sweetness of someone just a bit past their limit. Then she made a gesture that Mario couldn't quite see, but when the man responded with a simple:

-- I'll see you tomorrow,

Mario understood.

Lara blew a kiss and closed the door. The car drove away, leaving her standing alone in front of the house. She watched it go, swaying slightly. He stayed motionless, his breath caught in his chest as she slipped the key into the lock. The door opened, and Lara entered.

From his study on the first floor, Mario had a perfect view of the entrance. He saw Lara close the door behind her and lean against it. Her hair covered her face, but her hands slowly rose to clutch the golden strands, as if holding back a thought, a feeling. Then she lowered her hands and suddenly laughed softly. A light, electrified laugh, charged with something he couldn't decipher but which felt like a stab.

She wobbled slightly toward the kitchen. Mario leaned a bit further, his heart pounding in his ears. Lara picked up her phone and began to type. Her lips curled into a smile. That smile he hadn't seen in months.

He saw her bring the phone's microphone to her mouth and begin whispering something, though she struggled to keep her voice steady. She was sending a voice message to Giada, her friend. Mario strained to listen, to understand. Just a few fragmented words echoed through the silent house:

-- You have no idea... Giada... all night talking and drinking... Had fun... Don't believe it... A kiss... God, you can't imagine... I feel... I needed this... everything's crazy... Tomorrow.

Mario's throat tightened. The words echoed in his mind like boulders. A kiss. What did that mean? Did they kiss? Did she want to kiss him? Or did he want her? The images he had conjured up a few hours earlier overlapped with reality--raw and uncontrollable. His Lara, in someone else's arms. And she was happy. Laughing, feeling alive. I needed this.

He jerked back, cold sweat running down his spine. He moved toward the sofa bed, trying to breathe quietly. The sound of Lara's footsteps on the stairs made him freeze. He lay down quickly, closing his eyes, pretending to be in a deep sleep.

He heard the footsteps stop in front of the study door. His breathing was slow, controlled with immense effort. He knew Lara was there, standing, maybe watching him. An eternity stretched between them. She entered the room, moving carefully, approached him, and kissed him on the cheek. Mario didn't move, continuing to fake sleep. He felt her straighten up, and her footsteps receded until he heard the bathroom door close and lock behind her.

Mario opened his eyes in the darkness, feeling an endless void open up inside him. He lay motionless on the sofa bed, not knowing how to react, his eyes fixed on the shadowed ceiling. Every fiber of his body was tense like a violin string, his muscles rigid, his hands clenched into involuntary fists. The silence of the house seemed to amplify every sound. Straining to listen, he caught a faint hum coming from the bathroom. A barely audible sound. He rose, trying not to make noise, and approached the bathroom door. The hum grew louder, punctuated by quick, broken breaths. Oh God, she was masturbating with her toy. His mind began whispering scenarios he didn't want to consider. He tried to stop, to push those thoughts away, but they were already there--sharp and cruel. He was tempted to look through the keyhole, but he feared making too much noise.

He remained there, helpless, listening to Lara seek her pleasure in the bathroom. Mario began to touch himself too, locked outside the door, mingling with her pleasure. Who was she thinking about? The guy from the car? Lara was seeking pleasure, charged with excitement from the night out. Mario thought of them together. He heard a stifled moan from the bathroom and then the click of Lara's toy turning off. Trying not to make noise, he returned to bed, still aroused by the absurd situation. He took a deep breath and turned onto his side, trying to ignore the mental torture. After a few minutes, he heard the bathroom door open. Lara's footsteps were light, hesitant. He heard her pause just outside the bathroom, between the rooms. In the dark, Mario heard a whisper:

-- Good night.

Her voice was soft, barely audible, like a caress. But who was it meant for? Him? Or someone else? A voice message sent to someone? The uncertainty carved a hollow in his stomach. The sound of Lara's bedroom door closing echoed like a final seal.

Mario closed his eyes, but the darkness behind his eyelids was crowded with ghosts. Images of Lara laughing with another man, her lips curling into that smile he loved, now aimed at a stranger. He saw hands that weren't his touching Lara's arms, sliding down her back, tangling in her hair. He saw the face that once only sought his now tilted toward another man, ready for a kiss that wasn't his.

The pain in his chest mixed with a twisted excitement, a torment he couldn't shake. Each imagined scene grew more detailed: Lara falling onto an unfamiliar bed, her body arching beneath another, the moans he had learned so well now for someone else.

He tried to banish those visions, but they crashed over his mind like relentless waves. He tossed and turned, the sheets twisting around him like chains. He silently resumed touching himself, flashes of images pounding through his head. He still heard Lara's gasps from the bathroom, seeking pleasure for herself. He came, exhausted, and felt himself collapse.

Finally, in a moment of extreme fatigue, he slipped into a restless sleep. But nightmares awaited him, ready to attack. He saw Lara wrapped in the arms of a man he didn't recognize, her hair splayed on the pillow, her face lit by a radiant, free smile. He heard her laugh, moan, saw her move with an intimacy that once belonged to them. He wanted to scream, to stop her, but he was paralyzed.

He woke up abruptly, his breath ragged, his chest damp with sweat. The room was cold and desolate. The night felt endless. He closed his eyes again, exhausted, only to sink into new nightmares. Each time, he woke more drained, more hollowed out.

When the darkness finally gave way to the first hints of morning light, Mario lay on the sofa bed, staring blankly, his eyelids heavy. There was no rest, only a void pulsing under his skin, a sense of loss that had drained him of all energy. Mario has no idea on how he could handle all of this.