Chapter 5 - THE ENVELOPE ON MY DESK
The envelope appeared on my desk on a Thursday morning.
White.
Unmarked.
Inside was a cashier's check.
Twenty-eight thousand dollars.
Exactly enough to cover my overdue tuition and the next semester's fees.
I stared at it.
Then marched directly into Massimo's study.
He looked up from his laptop.
"Something wrong?"
I placed the envelope on his desk.
"What is this?"
He glanced at it.
"A check."
"I can see that."
He leaned back.
"Then why are you asking?"
I folded my arms.
"Did you arrange this?"
He hesitated.
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Because you need it."
I stared.
"Massimo."
He looked confused.
"What?"
"I didn't ask you to pay my tuition."
He shrugged.
"Consider it an advance."
"An advance on what?"
"Your contract."
I shook my head.
"My contract pays fifty thousand dollars after three months, with agreed installments. It doesn't authorize you to make private payments to my university."
His expression hardened.
"You're making this difficult."
"No. I'm keeping it professional."
He stared at me.
I continued.
"I appreciate the intention. But I need to know that my decisions about your care aren't influenced by personal favors."
He looked away.
"Everyone takes money."
"Everyone needs money."
I stepped closer.
"That doesn't mean every gift is appropriate."
Silence.
Then Massimo looked at me.
"You're really going to refuse?"
"Yes."
He studied me.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he nodded.
"Fine."
I exhaled.
"Thank you."
He looked down at the check.
Then quietly asked:
"Would it be acceptable if I paid you the contractual installment early?"
I considered.
"If it's documented properly and doesn't change the agreement."
He nodded.
"Then that's what we'll do."
I smiled.
"Good."
He looked at me.
"You're exhausting."
I grinned.
"That's what your rehabilitation plan says about you."
He laughed.
Two days later, my university confirmed receipt of the overdue payment.
I'd used my documented contract earnings.
Not a gift.
Not a favor.
My place in the doctoral program was secure.
I sat on my bed and cried.
Camila called that evening.
"Well?"
I laughed through tears.
"I'm staying in school."
She screamed.
"Tessa!"
I held the phone away from my ear.
She laughed.
"I'm so proud of you."
I smiled.
"Thank you."
Then she grew quiet.
"How's Massimo?"
I hesitated.
"Complicated."
She laughed.
"That's one word for him."
I looked toward the garden.
"He isn't what I expected."
Camila was silent.
Then she asked:
"Tessa, are you getting attached?"
My heart skipped.
"No."
She didn't answer.
I sighed.
"Camila."
"I'm just asking."
I looked out the window.
Massimo was sitting beneath a tree, reading.
For a moment, he looked peaceful.
I swallowed.
"I care about him."
Camila's voice softened.
"That's understandable."
I closed my eyes.
"But he's my patient."
"Exactly."
I knew what she meant.
Professional boundaries mattered.
And whatever feelings were beginning to form, I couldn't pretend they didn't create a conflict.
I looked at Massimo again.
May you like
Then whispered:
"I know."
