I thought the most difficult thing to do was getting into the building and convincing the desk clerk not to let Dante know I was coming. In my mind, it played out as convincing as Jayden Smith is an actor: horridly. I had imagined Tony to be filled with an unease about me, the image would turn into Neo-noir cinematography and I’d be thrust into Sin City-esque vibes of colour and a sense of danger. He’d press a button to call the cops and I’d be flipping and somersaulting my way out of the place while conveniently losing half my clothes via rips and tears. I thought it was going to be so much harder than what I just experienced.
As I rode this elevator, however, I realised that the most difficult part will be facing Dante. I’m not prepared to see devastation or anger cross his face. I don’t want him to be mad at me but at the same time, I’d understand. Most of all, I don’t want either of us to get hurt. My wounds are stitched together newly, but not completely closed. And he, well, a vulnerability revealed in a man like Dante will be something of a spectacle. Never before scenes acting out right before my very eyes. A fragility heard in the voice of a man like Dante will bruise my heart, and swell my ears. I already feel my heart thudding at the thought of Dante being hurt. What would a man like Dante do if he were hurt?
As I contemplated this I wondered, what makes me think that he isn’t hurt already? What makes me think I haven’t hurt him already? The very revelation sent shivers trembling up and down my spine.
end of chapter 15