Hearts on Hold - Scene 10

Mario spent the remaining time before Friday in a sort of trance. He didn't know how to act around Lara, trying to behave as he did on other days but realizing the enormous effort it took not to break down every time he saw her, thinking about her plans and what he had overheard.

She had noticed too. She had asked him how he was. Mario had tried to brush it off, inventing particularly stressful workdays. She had come close to him, ruffling his hair and hugging him tight while he didn't know how to react. No recordings had given him additional details, though perhaps not many more were needed to know what she intended to do.

Friday morning came too quickly. Mario dressed hastily, jacket already on his shoulders and car keys in hand. His suitcase was ready by the entrance with the few things he needed. In the kitchen, Lara was finishing her coffee, one hand on her forehead to chase away the remnants of sleep. How could she always look so beautiful even when she had just woken up? He stood there for a moment, not knowing what to say. She raised her eyes to meet his.

"Well then, have a good weekend in the mountains," she said with a slight smile. "You're going straight from the office then?"

"Yes, maybe it'll do me good," Mario replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'll go straight there to save some time and not arrive too late up there. You have fun," he said, trying to fake a smile. Right. Have fun. Mario felt a stab in his chest. But how?

She nodded, almost distracted, as if part of her was already focused on the evening, on how she would organize herself. Then he left through the door with a wave of his hand and closed it behind him. He walked with slow steps, dragging his suitcase behind him, unable to stop the thoughts racing through his head.

Mario got in the car, carefully loading the suitcase in the trunk, remained motionless for a moment, hands on the steering wheel. Something was starting to crack in his mind. An unhealthy, wrong thought. A plan. He would never be able to distract himself in the mountains, he would never feel better. Not until he could know.

He inserted the keys in the ignition and started the engine, drove out of the gate and began driving, now increasingly determined, took a couple of detours, some small streets where they never went and stopped the car. He parked on a small side street, not far from home, full of small villas like their house, recently built.

He remained still, reflecting. He had to wait for Lara to leave. It wouldn't take long, he thought. His heart was beating fast and part of him felt guilty for what he was about to do but he couldn't help himself anymore. He started playing a bit on his phone to distract himself and wait. Shortly after, the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that had exhausted him made him doze off with the phone in his hand.

...

"Hey, excuse me, are you feeling alright?" He woke with a start hearing someone knock on the car window. An elderly lady with her shopping cart was looking inside the vehicle. He lowered the window.

"Yes yes, I'm sorry ma'am, I was a bit tired and preferred to rest for a moment, I'm leaving right away."

"Young man, listen, go home, you don't look well. You're wasting away."

It brought a smile to his face and thanking her, he said goodbye. He waited for the lady to leave and got out of the car. He started walking towards home, surely Lara must have left by now. He moved cautiously, looking around for fear of meeting her, of seeing her pass by in her car because she was running late.

Each step was a deeper descent into a shadow he feared, but could no longer ignore. He arrived near the house and saw that Lara's car wasn't there. She must have left. He felt relieved but a thread of fear continued to keep him tense. He opened the door carefully, almost as if he were an intruder in his own home.

Inside was pure silence, the echo of his steps seemed amplified. He headed towards Lara's room with the same tension as a thief. The room was still immersed in the soft morning light, the bed carefully made. There, next to the bedside table on the other side, he saw a small paper bag. Small, discreet, with an elegant logo and a red ribbon.

He knelt and opened it slowly, as if the contents might explode. The lingerie was there: black silk, delicate lace, an ensemble so sensual it took his breath away. Mario touched it with trembling fingers. His eyes burned as he imagined Lara wearing it. Not for him, but for someone else. His mind betrayed him: he visualized the laces clinging to her skin, the neckline that enhanced her chest, her hips wrapped in that sinful fabric. He saw a man's hands unfasten that bra and let it fall to the ground.

A wave of desire coursed through him like sweet poison. His heart accelerated, his breathing became irregular. He felt excitement building along with anger and jealousy, a toxic cocktail that made him feel alive and devastated at the same time.

He snapped out of it with difficulty, put the bag back where it was and left the room, closing the door with an almost mechanical gesture. He took refuge in his study and locked himself inside. Every fiber of his body was on alert. His mind hammered with questions he didn't want to answer. What would happen that evening? Did he really want to push himself so far? Who was the man who would see Lara in that lingerie?

He began walking in circles in the study, clenching his fists. He just wanted to know, needed to understand, couldn't think of anything else. Lara, his Lara, couldn't really want that. Or maybe she did. He remembered what it was like to make love to her, the last time they had sex. "I want to be different," she had told Giada. "Free, light."

He sat down on the bed, hands holding his head and gave in to desperate sobs that echoed throughout the house. He let go, let the negative emotions take over. To release them. He felt pain in the pit of his stomach and his crying became a choked sob of pure pain. He let go and after a while finally calmed down. He went to the bathroom to splash water on his face. No, he didn't look well. He returned to the study, leaving the door slightly ajar, as if he needed it to breathe. He sat down and picked up a book.

The afternoon seemed endless. Mario remained silent, with his hands intertwined and his gaze fixed in emptiness, waiting for Lara's return, waiting to understand what would happen. The truth he wanted so badly, a truth that might destroy him.