She gets discharged the next day. Dr. Molinat is a middle-aged man that oozes confidence and power. He struts in the room like he owns it, and barely acknowledges her. Emily immediately decides she doesn't like him one bit. Judging by the frown on Charles's face, he shares her opinion, although he's been looking pretty gloomy all morning.
"The numbers look good," the doctor says as he looks at her chart. "Any pain or discomfort?"
"Huh... My head is still throbbing a little. Is it normal that I feel like I've been run over by a truck?"
She finds it funny, but Dr. Molinat doesn't even smile. Charles looks...pained. Alright, not funny then.
"I recommend that you stay with someone for 24 hours, to monitor your concussion. If you feel worse, or if you start to experience nausea or vomiting, you should come back to get checked out."
"Okay... What about my ankle? It's still pretty swollen. Can I walk on it?"
"We'll give you some very nice crutches," the intern standing next to the doctor jokes. "I'll make sure to choose a flattering color."
"The swelling should go down in a couple of days, but don't put pressure on it. Keep it iced for 20 minutes at a time and it should do the trick. You can pick out your prescription on your way out."
"I can go home?" Emily asks, surprise evident in her voice.
"Set up an appointment in two weeks for a follow-up."
Geez, that guy was as nice as a wooden door.
"Okay, yeah, I'll be sure to do that."
"Have a good day", he adds, almost as an afterthought before he leaves the room.
She's still scowling when she hears Charles quietly laughs. She turns towards him and rolls her eyes.
"Definitely not gonna be following up with that asshole."
"Yeah, I don't think he's learned about empathy or politeness during his residency."
It's weird to be sharing jokes with him after four months of radio silence. The thought squashes the smile right out of her face.
"I'm going to call Pierre so he can pick me up."
"Huh... about that. He texted me to see he had to go back to Faenza for some meetings with the team. He said he texted you."
She picks up her phone and groans when she gets confirmation that Pierre is indeed already back in Italy. Fuck. Did he really have a meeting, or was he just trying to avoid her? Yesterday, Luisa had kept her company for a while and they'd talked a little about what was going on, so at least she knew Lando and her weren't mad at her. But Pierre... Pierre had come back, anger radiating off his body and although he hadn't said it, it'd been pretty clear he wasn't happy about finding out the truth. She had guessed he would react that way, which is one of the reasons she hadn't told him at first. She hadn't wanted to jeopardize the friendship he had with Charles either. Pierre shouldn't have to pick a side.
"I can drop you off, if you want to. I don't have to be in Maranello for a few days."
With her ankle, driving was out of the question, and truth be told, she doesn't fancy being behind the wheel anytime soon. She'd planned to follow Pierre around for a few days, before going home, but now she's stuck. Lando and Luisa had left already on some well-deserved vacation, even though they'd offered to cancel it and stay in Monaco. Now, she's really starting to regret her choices. Here goes nothing.
"Okay, I guess," she gulps. "Thanks."
Charles's Ferrari Pista 488 isn't really practical for someone using crutches but she manages it, barely. She sucks in the smell of expensive leather, one she hadn't realized she missed. They stay silent, as the music plays at low volume. He either doesn't realize it or did it on purpose, but it's a playlist they created together back last year on their way to Monza.
