Monza (Formula Men #1)(5)
The woman truly was something else. I stood there, mesmerized. Only then did I realize I had never been so enthralled by a woman in my life.
Trust me, it was quite a shock.
Tre
Presente (Present)
“There’s severe damage to his leg. We won’t know how bad it is until we do more tests. On top of that, there are second degree burns and possible nerve damage,” the soft-spoken man said with undeniable sadness, making me wonder how truly severe my situation was.
From the background chatter, I could gather that my parents were the ones being informed of my situation. Of course, my mother would be devastated if her only son was mangled and deformed.
Ignoring her annoying cries, I kept up the pretense that I was still asleep in a deep coma, rehashing what had happened at the track before everything crashed and went in flames.
And that damning dream of her. Of all the things to resurface in my subconscious, why in bloody Hades did it have to be her? I loathed anything and everything she represented. Selfish, money hungry, and only did things to serve herself. Once she had gotten what she had come for, she would eject you from her life as if the time you had spent with her meant not a damn thing at all.
Never would I let a woman distract me. She had been the one mistake, one I was still paying dearly for.
You see, I was the idiot who had thought her different from others. Maybe it was because she truly didn’t know me at first, or maybe it was the novelty of believing that someone was interested in me without attaching the fame or fortune that many were after. To her, I simply was Luca. However, this blinded stupidity on my part blew up in my face when I learned the truth—that she was married to an older man.
Understandably, I went ballistic. There were so many instances when I was tempted to see her, to confront her about her lies, but I would always end up convincing myself that I shouldn’t even bother wasting my breath.
She never gave any indication that she was engaged to be married, nor did I know if she was involved with anyone. In the very beginning, when our relationship had started blossoming, she had seemed so open and honest that I never thought it important to ask any vital questions. After all, the women I got involved with typically dropped any man they were with to be with me. That arrogant perception had blinded me from everything. So much so that I started to question my sense of judgment.
Her betrayal went far beyond my ego. She had deliberately humiliated me, and I wasn’t about to simply let that go. If she thought she could walk away unscathed, then she should think again.
I had thought before the accident that I could let it slide, that I could brush it under the rug and forget she had ever existed. But then there was the dream.
The dream brought everything back to life.
The suppressed anger over her deception was back with a vengeance.
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“I’m not quite a vegetable, then, am I, Vittorio?” I informally addressed the peppered-haired doctor since propriety and manners had left me. Besides, I was in this hideous hospital gown, so I felt as if I had earned the right to feel uninhibited, to do as I wanted just so I could make myself feel a little better.
My humor made him give a low chuckle, clearly amused. “Ah, not quite there, Luca. Though let’s not forget that this was a close call. You could’ve died out there. These physical injuries will heal, but in my field, traumatic experiences affect a lot of things. Your mother insists that we leave nothing out, so a therapist will be by to speak with you later this afternoon.”
My mother. The thought left an undesired taste on my tongue. I hadn’t wanted to think about her when I had woken up with the most harrowing of headaches. It had felt as if something was pounding in my brain, making my ears ring with each breath and pump of my blood. I was in the most agonizing pain, but I would rather deal with that than face the woman who had given birth to me.
It was a wretched thing to think of my mother. The woman had suffocated me whenever she had the chance, and if given the right opportunity, she would leave trails of her vileness wherever and to whomever she encountered. I had always wondered how my father withstood her, being trapped in that monstrosity they called marriage. Alas, my father didn’t believe in divorce, and for some odd reason, he had always respected her. In the oddest of circumstances, some might even deem it endearing.
When Vittorio peeled the bandage off my forehead, I gave a rapid hiss followed by a grumbled complaint that maybe he should change eyeglasses, because it seemed as if he couldn’t tell the difference between professionally taking a bandage off and waxing my forehead of any hairs. As Italians, we had plenty of hair, making it feel as though he was trying to rip my skin off my skull.
“You’ll survive,” he stated briskly, laughing once more before adding, “If women these days can survive the aftermath of a Brazilian wax, you certainly can handle a little sting.”
“Good thing you’re a friend of the family, or I would’ve taken that joke as an insult.”
“I don’t see why people find you intimidating. I suppose I’ll always see you as a little boy, even with the beard and all.”
I was about to say something snarky to quip back, but his demeanor changed from playful banter to a serious note quite suddenly as he gave me the worried face of someone who cared about me.
“Your grandfather would’ve been distraught to see you in such a state. You’re far too young to tempt fate, Luca. You were lucky to survive, but don’t wait until all of that luck runs out, because it will. There are limits to everything; always remember that.”