Free The Broken Angel by Monica La Porta

come up with a witty retort. He poured the black espresso in two small glass cups he had bought in Venice, then grabbed a stainless steel tray from one of the drawers under the counter, and brought the coffee to Martina along with sugar cubes and a honey croissant.
    “So, that’s also why you’re so fit. I imagine you must exercise regularly to maintain your job, right?”
    He shrugged and lowered himself to the big armchair by the couch. “I won’t say.” He had moved the chair slightly closer to her. Close enough that if he leaned forward, he could reach for her. He didn’t, but he liked the idea he could. Ironically, he was used to touching her without any concern of inappropriateness during their trainings, but now even brushing her knees seemed too intimate.
    “Hmmm.” She made a face. “And what’s up with your cane? Suddenly you don’t need it anymore?”
    Samuel inwardly groaned, but was pleased she had noticed. “It was a miracle.”
    “A miracle, ah?”
    He nodded, finding harder and harder not to start laughing. “Divine intervention.”
    “No, seriously. Yesterday, you couldn’t walk without it. Now, you can almost run?” She gave him a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow. The expression, one he had seen several times on her face when they fought each other, meant she dared him to prove her wrong. At the gym, it was also her way to tell him she wouldn’t spare his feelings. Although, he knew she never hit him as hard as she could, which it was funny since he too guarded his blows not to hurt her.
    “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you the truth.” He raised his hands in the air in defeat, a wide grin on his face. “I didn’t need it that much. I used it more to give me moral support than anything else. Like a blankie for a child. As you’ve just pointed out, I can manage just fine without it.”
    She seemed to think about his words for a moment, then nodded. “That explains it.”
    “That explains what?”
    She pointed at his legs. “I’ve wondered more than once how could you fight in the ring without it and then apparently needed it to walk.”
    “I like to deceive the enemy.” Samuel made a mental note to be more careful.
    “Have you always lived in Rome?” She regarded him with one of her soul-searching stares.
    Her question brought him back to the first time he had seen the Eternal City. The Roman Empire was at its end, but Rome was like no other city he had ever encountered in his pilgrimage around Earth.
    He had traveled six months straight, never stopping. Coming from the Far East, passing through Meshech, Tubal, and Hellas, he had finally reached a large expanse of sea, and mesmerized by the natural beauty surrounding the lands bordering those warm, fruitful waters, he had followed its natural contour and climbed all the way up north. Then he had ventured back down, passing through the mosquito-infested Venitian Lagoons, the veteran soldiers’ settlement of Fluentia, and finally leaving behind the fertile valley of the Arno and following the Via Cassia to its end, he had found Rome. Caput Mundi. The capitol of the world. He wept before such beauty. White marbles and structures the likes of which he had never seen lay before his eyes. Ample roads were framed by votive altars and pine trees dotted the cobblestone pavements with pinecones, the smell of their crushed hard shells under the chariots’ wheels the essence of Rome. He basked in the glory of such magnificence and his heart rejoiced for the first time since falling.
    “No. I moved from place to place before settling here and I also traveled a lot for my job.”
    She then smiled a mischievous smile, her hands moving in circular motions. “How did you end up with such a mysterious job?”
    “Despite my… disability, I still have the skills required for it.” Samuel wanted to confide in Martina, afraid that he would never have another chance to talk to her like that—in private, outside of the gym where they were only