Page 36 of The Doctor

12

Zeno

The city was quiet as I parked my car in front of my brownstone and turned it off. The early morning traffic hadn’t been as bad as I had expected, and the drive back into the city from Paulo’s took less time than I’d thought.

Spending the night away from my home had left me on edge as my mind swirled with concerns about Berto and Paulo and Angelo. About Nadia and Michele and Mario.

There didn’t seem to be anyone I wasn’t worried about.

But the torrent of people who troubled my mind hadn’t kept away worries of my favorite little hurricane.

Guilt ate at me for the way I’d left her yesterday morning. I couldn’t help but wonder if I should have given her more of my time before racing away from her as fast as I could.

Now, staring up at the silent building, I ached for the chaos she brought to my life.

I climbed the front stoop and unlocked the door, then locked it all back up the minute I stepped inside. With heavy feet, I dragged myself upstairs, ready for a long, hot shower and a week’s worth of sleep. But my feet stopped me on the second level, and I stared longingly at Clara’s bedroom door.

Some fucked up part of me couldn’t help but wish she was here. Before I could stop myself, I was walking that way, pushing open her door and stepping inside.

There was nothing but disappointment there.

Clara wasn’t tucked into her bed, sleeping soundly like she so often did. Her room was empty, nothing but her usual mess of papers and clothes strewn around the space. Her bed was made, just as it had been when I’d peeked inside yesterday morning before I left.

My disappointment had me shuffling across the room, clutching at the cage of my ribs as it tightened around my heart. I sat on the bed, shoving my hands through the long strands of my hair before I buried my face in my palms.

The room smelled like her.

Like a storm cloud.

A light rain.

Like honey and sunshine and the sweetness of spring flowers blooming in the trees.

I longed to be held in her tight embrace, to live in her turmoil and soothe away her inner pain.

But she wasn’t here.

And I was tired as fuck.

Tired, exhausted, and slightly hungover.

I flopped back on the bed, rolled over and buried my face in the pillow where she laid her head. I breathed in her scent and felt my blood stirring, awakening parts of me that, quite frankly, didn’t need to wake up.

I didn’t need to get hard while lying in her bed, thinking of her and all the things I tried not to think about but so clearly failed.

Clara.

My Clara.

I want you to live your life to the fullest.

Paulo’s voice floated in my head. His reminders that I was my own person, that I had my own needs.

Needs I’d been suppressing my entire life, especially the past few years.

With my dick throbbing and my heart a mess, I tossed Clara’s pillow back where it belonged and climbed from the mattress, determined to fall asleep in my own bed upstairs. Each thunk of my feet against the steps mimicked the hard press of my heart in my chest, and I felt pressure building in my head, the way it did when the weather changed and a storm blew in off the coast.

A storm cloud hovered over my bed.