La Rosa Gialla

Chapter 3

January 2024

At exactly 3:00 p.m., a white Ferrari pulled up in front of our guest house and a tall, slender figure with dark hair got out. I didn't tell him I was going anywhere with him. Does he think he can do whatever he wants? The doorbell ringed, so I lazily got up from my chair and went downstairs to open the door.

He stood there as if nothing had happened. He checked me down from head to toe and I suddenly felt insecure. I was all too aware that I was wearing a white baggy pullover, sweatpants with a small hole in the knee, and fuzzy pink socks. "Charming as always," he grinned at me. "I didn't agree with you coming," I said and went back to the pleasantly heated room. "Adri, come on," he whined, and I was already getting ready to tell him everything that was on my mind all this time. "Charlie! I just made us some coffee, would you like some too?" Dad called from the space behind me, and Charles hesitated for a moment but finally called back: "I will. Thanks, Davide."

And so the three of us sat down, sipping hot espresso, and the awkward silence could be cut. I looked between my dad and Charles, waiting to see which of them would speak first. "Are you staying in Maranello until next week?" Dad asked Charles and I furrowed my brows. I hope he is not going to ask what I think he is. I hope he doesn't want to invite him to... "I have a birthday party next Saturday. I was wondering if you would like to come too. It will be like old times." I looked at the ceiling and hoped it was just a dream.

"Davide, you know I wouldn't miss it," Charles smiled brightly and I gritted my teeth.

"Why did you accept the invitation? You know he was just being polite, right?" I glared at him as dad moved away to rest. "I thought he meant it," Charles shrugged. "He said it would be like old times."

"But it won't be. Of course it won't. Nothing is like it was back then, Charlie. Nothing," I fumed and slammed my hand on the table so hard my wrist hurt.

"Adri, I really think we should talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. I tried so many times to connect with you," I sighed desperately. "It's been over six years now, Charles. There is no point in opening old wounds. I could barely deal with everything that had happened in those two years. I don't want to go back to that."

"Adri..."

"You've cut me off. I thought you were my best friend and you dumped me. I wanted to cheer you up, I wanted to be with you when your dad died. I wanted you to be with me when my mom died..." I stopped to wipe the tears that were streaming down my face. "But you left me," I added quietly. I could hear him breathing lightly, thinking about what to say. Finally he took a few steps forward and hugged me. I pressed my wet face into his sweater and cried even harder.

He held me for maybe an hour. At least that's how it felt to me. When I finally calmed down a bit and pulled away from him, he had a wet spot on his chest. He held my hands in his warm palms and looked deep into my eyes. "You'll never know how sorry I am," he whispered and I smirked through my tears. "Yeah, me too," I added. "Come with me," he prompted and I nodded.

I quickly changed and got into his car. He turned on the heater, turned down the radio and set off in an unknown direction. I admired the surrounding landscape, very familiar to me, and waited for him to start talking. "I don't know where to start," he admitted after a few kilometers. "You can from the beginning," I suggested and he sighed. "Do you remember the summer in Riccione?" he asked after a while and I smiled remembering the last summer when everything was perfect. I looked at him and nodded.

"That's probably when I realized that everything I know and everything I love hangs on by a very thin thread."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"In Riccione, I realized for the first time that I like you more than just as a friend."

I turned my head sharply and looked at him again. His gaze was fixed on the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"I thought it was stupid to tell you at the time because I was afraid that you didn't have feelings for me and that I would just ruin our friendship."

I couldn't control myself and started laughing.

"So I don't find that very amusing" Charles grinned and shot me an angry look.

"I was in love with you a long time before Riccione," I admitted, and his angry expression suddenly turned into one of surprise.

"Why didn't you say something?" he asked.

"Probably for the same reason. I was afraid I would screw it up."

"We were stupid kids, weren't we?"

"One of us still is a stupid kid," I smirked, but then got serious. "Charlie?"

"Huh?"

"Why did you stop talking to me?"

Charles closed his eyes for a tiny moment and eased off the gas. He looked sideways at me, only to turn his gaze back to the road. "When your mom got sick..." he began and I was instantly overwhelmed by the all too familiar pain.

"When your mom got sick, my dad started having the first problems too. I guess I didn't want you to have to worry about anything else. I didn't want to burden you with more problems when you've already suffered enough."

"We could..." I swallowed. "We could lean on each other. You should have told me. We could do it together. We were going through the same thing."

"I know. Now I know that. But at the time, I guess I felt like I had to do it by myself. It was my fight, with my dad. You had your own fight with your mom. I didn't want you to have to drag me out of something again. Not after what happened when Jules died."

"Charlie..." I wiped a tear that was rolling down my face and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I wanted to be there for you. Be with you. As always."

When Jules had that horrible accident in October 2014, Charles and I didn't know each other enough for me to know how much he was suffering. But when Jules left this world forever on July 17, 2015, it completely devastated Charlie. I knew how hard he tried to pretend in front of others that everything was somehow okay, and even though it was a tragedy, he would get over it soon. But I was the one who received calls at night full of crying and dark thoughts. I was the one who listened to his heart-wrenching sobs and who reassured him that he would get better. I was the one who knew it was going to take a hell of a long time to really get better.