“Costa?” Sophia stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, raising an eyebrow.
“I allow her to call me that. We were treated together and became friends. May I come in?”
“Please, come in,” Sophia said, returning to the office and adjusting her already impeccably pressed lab coat as she sat in the chair. “How can I help you?”
“First of all, I’d like to apologize for yesterday,” Constantin began searching for the right words.
“No, I should be the one apologizing,” Sophia said, anxiously rubbing her hands together, mimicking human behavior when they’re upset. “I should have been more tactful and not meddled in things that aren’t my business. Besides, I really did like the painting.”
“Next time, I promise to behave more courteously,” Constantin smiled.
The heavy energy from his meeting with Sayana still lingered in the air, but he hadn’t come for that.
“Next time?” Sophia was surprised.
“If of course I haven’t scared you off,” Constantin hesitated. “I’d like to see you again, outside of this clinic.”
“Why not?” Sophia shrugged and he thought she seemed bored. “But this time I’ll choose the place for our meeting.”
“It’s settled then.” Constantin stood up to leave but suddenly remembered. “Can I have your number?”
“Of course. Is that why you came here?” she asked, dialing the number to call.
“Yes, I had to find some way to reach you, Sophia,” Constantin replied, feeling a bit shy.
The smartphone screen lit up with the precious call.
“Call me Sophie,” the girl smiled. “If you don’t mind, you can address me more casually.”
“Gladly,” he nodded and hurried to leave.
* * *
A week passed and Sophia still hadn’t called. Constantin waited patiently, comforting himself with thoughts that she had a lot of work. In the meantime, he painted and considered the concept for his next exhibition. He wrapped the painting of the twins in a blanket and stashed it in a distant corner, out of sight.
In the evenings, he met up with friends from the creative world. One of these friends invited him for a ride on a motorcycle to the waterfront. Constantin didn’t often use his iron steed. Perhaps it was due to the fear of getting carried away and losing track of speed, or maybe because he had made a promise to his parents long ago to sell it. But he never found the heart to part with his speedy friend.