Prelude

Maybe it is the low light in the bathroom, or the effect of the painkillers, but Emanuele can swear that the gleam in the eyes of the man in front of her are tears.

The boy is obviously disconcerted. He takes another sip of the wine and puts the glass down. His large arms are resting on either side of the tub. Emanuele watches as his expressions change dramatically: indecision, denial, acceptance.

Johnny looks at her, tilting his head to the side before saying:

"It was a... Accident of course. I didn't mean to."

Scratching the bridge of his nose, he continues:

"Initially, all I wanted was the chance to get closer to you. To talk to you, to get to know you. Then we got closer and closer, and the next thing I knew, I was longing for the days and hours when I could see you. Every time I look at you... I see you glowing, you know? Like a phoenix."

Emanuele smiles involuntarily, her breathing quickening. Johnny sees this as an incentive to keep talking:

"Our friends are always asking