?Sorry, I met another woman.? ?No?, - she whispered. ?And I love her?. She nodded silently. He went away. To say that Suzanna was upset ? was to say nothing. But she was not upset from his leaving ? just it was something strange, some mystery ? he was the sixth boy who left her. What is more ? he was the sixth one who told her the same words before leaving.
Suz tried to think logically but could not. Tired, as if worked the whole night, she sat on the sofa in the living-room. She had to do something to solve that situation. All seemed impossible and she would never believe if someone told her about such a coincidence, but it was she who experienced that; and did not matter if she believed or not ? she has to know the reason of her unhappy love stories.
?the conversations with her mother and father gave nothing. Her mother told that she had no idea what was going on. Her father told that she invented everything, laughed and returned to his documents in the computer. Whom else to ask? Grandparents? Suz was in doubt that they could advise her something though her granny loved her most from all the family.
? a new study year began and Suz was occupied with books, exams and studying. She came back home late and had less time to think about love affairs.
?it was autumn and Suz was sad. She missed the bright summer sun, the free time, the heat and the possibility to swim in the river. Besides, due to the parents? job who were more busy in summer, her father was at home every day now, without any business trips. And that meant that almost every day he was quarrelling with her mother. The reasons sometimes were just half-invented - either he did not like the dinner, or he wanted to watch a TV channel that her mother did not like?after they began offending each other and Suz was missing the time when on holidays she could stay in another town, with her granny.
?that evening Suz was returning back to home hesitating ? either to be glad or sad. Glad because a new boy in her group invited her for a walk in the week-end. And she felt that she was falling in love with him. And sad because she knew how her love relations usually ended. Deep in thoughts, she sat on the bench in the park near her house. It was twilight now, and not many people were around. Suz was looking at some leaves from trees and enjoyed their colors ? as it was autumn.
- Why are you so sad, girl?
Suz saw that a woman sat near her.
- You may not answer, I know why, - she said
Suz looked at her with surprise, and already wanted to go, but something made her stay.
- Why? - she asked.
- Because you are in love now.
- Yes, you are right, but?
- ?but all your love stories end in nothing.
Suz?s eyes became as big as plates. How that woman new? They have never seen each other.
- And do you know why? ? continued woman. ? Many years ago your father was in love. That girl loved him very much too. But he offended her. He married your mother just because she was waiting a child. He felt like in a trap, and told that girl many offensive things, like defending himself. The girl was not guilty at all ? she was looking at him with her beautiful eyes and told him nothing. At the end he told her ? sorry, I met another woman and I love her. Soon we marry.
That was an old story but he did not asked her to excuse him ? that is why they did not really part.
Suz was listening, trying to remember everything that the woman told. Suddenly, she heard some noise, and turned to see ? it was a child who was learning to ride the bike. When she looked to continue speaking with a woman, the opposite side of a bench was empty. The woman went away.
Suz was sitting on a bench for a long time, till it became dark. She was thinking. Who was that woman, she did not know. But she knew that the woman told her the truth. She remembered her childhood. When she was a child, she thought that only her grand-mother, father?s mother, loved her. Her father never was interested in her, neither in her mother. Sometimes Suz saw him sitting and looking somewhere as if inside himself. After her mother?s eyes became sad and she either asked him to help her about the flat, or tried to invent a reason of a quarrel. Once Suz heard how her mother shouted ? you never loved me, never. You still love her. But nothing changed. Her father still spent more time at work or in trips than in the family. Suddenly, she understood one more thing ? why he was always angry when she or her mother took his mobile or tried to look into his email box. He had lovers. Not a long time ago she heard her mother complaining someone by telephone ? there was again a lipstick on the shirt. That time Suz did not pay attention about what they talked... She had to solve it. It was not her fault to be a non-desired child. She had to find that girl, whom her father loved and make her father to ask her to excuse him. Suz called her grandmother. An old woman sighed and told that yes, she knew something about that story. She gave her some more information and promised to speak with Suz?s father.
Suz entered the caf? much earlier. She asked the waiter a table near 11 table, just behind the screen. It was stylized to Chinese and very useful for Suz who wanted to see and hear much. She noticed a woman who entered the caf?. Suz recognized her at once, judging from old photos. A woman had a modern hair-cut, wore white jeans, white jacket and light-blue blouse. After some minutes she sat near the table, Suz saw her father. First she even did not recognize him, she saw such a bright look in his eyes. He looked younger and glad, though a bit nervous.
He came up to the woman and sat near her. They did not speak for some minutes?Suz heard every word they told. Her father was telling about his life, his job, even about Suz. But? he told about all as if under the different point of view. He sounded as if he was happy, loved his job and his family ? his wife and Suz. Suz was surprised ? why he lied? At home he even did not pretend that she cared about them.
The woman told that she is married, has children. She does not work much, just for her pleasure. She prefers to look after her children. But she did not look as a house-wife at all.
They were changing impressions about their trips, speaking about people they both knew. Then Suz?s father asked:
- Are you happy?
The woman smiled, yes, I am , she told. ? And you?
Suz?s father said nothing. He was silent some minutes and then told:
- Emie, please, excuse me. I was not right that time. And I had no right to offend you. I understood it only after some years.
The woman smiled. ? I am not angry at you. I forgave you many years ago, even before I got married.
They spoke some more minutes and then went away. Suz was sitting, looking in the empty cup from coffee. She had a feeling that she touched something beautiful, that she had not to. When she came back, her father was already at home. He was sitting in the kitchen and speaking to her mother. Suz saw how he came closer and hugged her. ?You know, I would never marry you if I did not love you. No child would make me marry. We have so much in common?, - he told. No one knew, even himself, whether he was telling the truth or no.
In some time Suz got married. But before it she asked her husband to make ?an open evening?- they told each other about their past without keeping any secrets. Suz?s parents did not quarrel any more. The life became calmer and Suz?s mother did not make scandals any more. But one day she noticed that Suz?s father clothes and things disappeared. She found a little note on the table, ?Sorry, I met a woman whom I love?.
26.10.2005.
Copyright © 2006 Victoria Z All rights are reserved.
She did it to prove herself that she loves another one.
She went to Berlin because of work. Her business task consisted in two parts ? first she had to bring the documents and discs to one company and the second ? in some days she had to go there and, if they agreed to make a contract, to take a copy of signed paper. She successfully did the first task ? it was not difficult; beforehand, she found the map of the city and the street she needed. Now Mirabelle retuned to the hotel. She had a little view of the city sight-seeing, and, decided that she would prefer Italy, came through the transparent entrance doors. It was evening, and the outside light was on, making the trees around the hotel look like from a strange fairy-tale. Mirabelle went along the hall, paying no attention to the pictures on the walls done in a modern style that was in fashion that time; all the interior was done in pastel colors where the peach one was prevalent. She used a lift with mirrors and touch-buttons, come to her room, hotel number. The hotel had three or four stars, and the rooms were well-done. The big room had several zones emphasized by light - zone to read with an arm-chair, zone to work with a table and armoire, zone to sleep with a comfortable bed. The room had an exit to a balcony which faced the big place of grass and garden with trees. Mirabelle put her bag, went out to the balcony ? the air was fresh, no noise of the city was heard. They did a nice thing, - she thought. The trees around block the negative sides of the city.
She had a look on a watch. It was the time for supper. Usually her family ate at this time. First she wanted to call home but then she changed her mind ? did not want to disturb her little daughter.
Mirabelle went to the restaurant which was on the ground floor in a hotel. She could go somewhere else, but she preferred this place ? she had already a beautiful tasty self-service breakfast and she liked the design of the restaurant. It had big windows from the ceiling to the floor, trees from the garden were around, and there was an impression that people ate in a park. All the atmosphere resembled 19th century ? all people, both guests and waiters, were polite and had good manners. The tables had clean white table-clothes and serviettes, each table had a candle on it. When a person entered, the waitress accompanied him or her to one of the tables, offered menu and lightened a candle.
Suddenly, she thought that it would be great if her husband were here with her. They would make a romantic dinner. She missed him. Mirabelle entered and saw that there were rather many people in the restaurant. Despite of it, she warned a young waiter who came to serve, that she preferred to sit near the window. He glanced fast around, and offered her to join a person ? because as they both saw, there were no free tables. They came closer and Mirabelle saw a back of a man near whom she was going to sit.
She recognized him at once. She just did not expect to meet him there ? perhaps, he was on business trip too. Some images flied in front of her inner sight - their kiss, their love, his unfairness. Her laugh, their new relations?the woman with whom he was dating at the same time as with Mirabelle? his awkward explanation, the child whom he did not want?Mirabelle was upset ? she was loving him. He married that woman because of a child. He still wanted to continue relations with Mirabelle, but she refused. Yes, she understood everything. No, she would not have any relations with a married man.
Mirabelle forgot him with time. First she was very sad but she cut all contacts with him and in some time after she realized that she did not think about him any more. Mirabelle married by love ? it was not a crazy passionate feeling, it was calm and serious attitude to a man who suited her ? he had the same points of view on anything, the same as Mirabelle. The same music, the same books charmed them both. They bore a daughter, it was a desired child. Mirabelle trusted her husband, had a confidence in him, - he could feed the child, play with her almost as well as she did. She was gathering her thoughts only some seconds. Then she smiled and came up to a man who sat at the table. He was reading a menu and raised his eyes up to see who came up. He was surprised to see Mirabelle so much that even forgot to pretend that he had good manners ? he replied on her greeting and did not stand up from the chair. For sure, he was glad to see her. He noticed that she changed since their last meeting some years ago ? Mirabelle became a married woman in a real sense of the word, her gestures were calm, her manner of speech ? self-confident, her style of clothes proved her good taste which she always had. But it was something more in her, either just an impression or the slightest expression of her eyes, something that made him think that she loved her husband and she was loved by him too. Mirabelle sat near her old friend. They chose the dishes from the menu, were eating and speaking. He was very much the same as she remembered though some changes were not unnoticed by her ? he became more fat, more old. The boyish manners which made him so nice and pleasant in discussions, disappeared. The little wrinkles near his lips and eyes showed that his slight feature of character which was being not satisfied by many things and his life as it is, as well as his little habit of hidden complaining ? became bigger. He was still praising himself, telling that he was successful in all spheres of his life, but it did not make him appealing any more, and visa versa, provoked a pity in Mirabelle. Now, with more experience, she felt that it was his mask, he was lying. The lie was not too hard and not too changed from the reality, he just had to change some details in his stories to make them seem in a different way, under a completely different angle.
Mirabelle could not understand why it was so important for him to be more successful than she was, why he needed that strange competition in what she always refused to play? Maybe, he wanted to prove himself that he was right to marry that woman. The woman who got pregnant by lie (he did not know about her plans for a child, the woman whom he did not love). After Mirabelle answered the questions which he asked about her family, she asked some too.
He was in Berlin on business. His dream to made his own company did not come true ? but soon, he said, as he always did. And as always he gave some details, proofs that he would really open a company. Mirabelle just nodded, being polite, not believing in any of his word.
He still was living with that woman. Now they had two children.
- Tell me about your children, - she asked.
- It is a boy and a girl... He told their names and age.
A pause occurred. Mirabelle was waiting what he would tell more but he was silent.
- What do they like? What are their characters?
He looked at her in surprise and confusion.
- What do they like??The girl likes to play with dolls and to watch serials. The boy likes cars...What else? I do not know? They do not like read and I have to shout at them to remind to do their home tasks.
His voice sounded indifferent. Besides, he told nothing about the children?s characters. He was on the edge of being irritated and Mirabelle asked no more questions about his family. But she was noticing his eyes expression, his gestures with an attention ? it was definite that he did not love his children and care noting for them. He was telling about his travels with such a enjoyment that she understood ? he did not like to be at home, with his family.
Listening to him, she was clever enough to understand that he needed his travels not for inspiration, no to know something new about the country, their style of life, their art, etc.; - and not to share his emotions and notices with his second part ? as Mirabelle did. His character demanded the change of decorations, new views, short relations which left nothing after ? no sadness, no joy, just some minutes of a pressure or something more that he tried to prove for himself?
Suddenly, her telephone rang.
- Hello. Yes, it?s me. In a restaurant now, just met an old friend of mine?No, he is old and married. She smiled. And how are you? Fed her? OK, give her the receiver.
- Hello?yes, I shall come in some days. Are you a good girl, do you listen to your father? ?OK, then you will get some presents. Yes, he will read for you. I kiss you, my doll. Bye.
Then her husband re-took the receiver.
- You will read to her? Ok. Yes, in two days. Tomorrow I go to take a paper, seems that they want that contract. I shall tell you more at home. Me too... Where? (she smiled). Ok, you also. Bye.
While speaking she felt his eyes on her. He even did not pretend to be polite ? was listening to what she was telling.
The desert was served. It was rather late and the restaurant was almost empty. They did not look at time ? were concentrated on their conversation. The atmosphere was pseudo-romantic. The specks of their previous love were reflecting from the big windows. Windows faced as if garden ? but it was just an impression ? if to see deeper, some trees were round, not the garden, and next was a dusty dirty street. The man who was sitting near her was good-looking and a lot of women would like to have relations with him but only women who did not know his character or were not attentive enough to realize that he was selfish, too concentrated on himself, indifferent to others. Mirabelle was loving him very much. She was young and too open for a new love. She fell in love with him ? better at that time ? appearance, his manners ? how might she know that he was polite only when he wanted to make an impression on a person, in other cases he was quite rude. Once she heard how he was speaking to his wife ? and Mirabelle was surprised, indignant ? he did not respect her at all, dared to use such words and such intonation that if someone would speak to Mirabelle in such a way ? she would not have any relations with him. Poor woman was his wife. Poor or stupid or Mirabelle did not know the reasons why she was standing him. From her friends Mirabelle knew that he was not fair to his wife ? he was seen with one woman, then another. His question made her postpone her thoughts. He offered to have a walk. She agreed with a pleasure ? the little garden was clean and nice. And they went out. The evening was warm and the air was fresh. They went near high fir-trees and were silent for some time, enjoying the nature. The wind was slight and he put his jacket on her. They were changing phrases with a sense that only they knew, speaking about their previous relations. She let herself be fascinated, be partially in love, feel the emotions she used to feel to him some years ago. Some years ago she was dreaming to enjoy his company, to be alone with him, to speak to him, to feel that he was flirting, showing that he loved her, to make love with him. To caress him, to explore all points on his body, to see him naked and to give him a pleasure.
Mirabelle did not think about her husband. She had an impression that relations were completely different from the ones she had with her previous friend. And they had nothing to do with her husband. Besides, it was only her relations ? she had to experience them, they had nothing to do with other people
She felt his breath on her cheek. They were standing not far from a hotel but no people were seen. He leaned his head and kissed her in lips. But it was just a kiss. Why she felt so many emotions when they kissed some years ago? He seemed to be so experienced, she seemed to love him so much that enjoying every thing he was doing in a sexual sphere. But it was many years ago, not now. It was just a kiss though not unpleasant. She felt his hand on her waist. He whispered on her ear ? let?s go in the hotel? She nodded and they went inside, still hugging. The woman who was a receptionist gave a polite smile and replied to their greeting. She did not allow herself to seem interested in their relations. They came into his room ? it was dark inside and he had to turn on light but as he switched on only one zone, it was not too bright inside.
He gave her another kiss and his hand slipped to her blouse.
- No, first you, - she told. ? I want to enjoy seeing you naked.
He understood and agreed, putting off his clothes. They never had sex before and never saw each other completely naked. He wanted that much but only one thing prevented him ? he wanted to avoid the responsibility. Mirabelle?s surroundings could press on him.
He was ready and Mirabelle was looking at his chest, his belly which became really fat, but it was not seen under the clothes. Her eyes were relentlessly founding new faults of his figure. She had a look on his penis ? it was not big but not too small. She was a bit disappointed. But whom was she going to see? A young man with a perfect figure? She knew that he was not perfect at all ? the character of a person always reflects itself on the face and body and she knew his character well.
She sat more comfortable and put away his jacket. Her hand touched his face, his chest, his belly. She was curious to touch and to see all she was thinking and dreaming before, all that many other women saw and experienced with him. First being slow, he changed to be pushing, his gestures expressed impatience and the desire of pleasure ? pleasure-to-get, but not pleasure-to- give. She, always thinking of him as a tender and careful lover, was disgusted. She pushed him slightly from her and stood up from a bed. He was looking at her without understanding.
Mirabelle learned to the wall and closed her blouse. For some moments she was in silence and then told ?
- Let?s consider this night happen some years ago. It should have happened then, it has no connection to nowadays.
- But nothing really happened, did it? ? he asked. - We did not?
But she was not listening. Shooting a fast glance at him, disgusted, naked, on crumpled sheets. The man whom was she loving, turned out to be completely different. She had to have some sexual relations with him before to realize that she was loving her own feeling, her own imaginatory person whom she invented and attached to him. It was beyond her understanding how a person could make love without feeling, with women that he would never see again, in places that he would never visit again and if visit, he would not have any twinges of conscience or sadness or some feeling to a woman with whom he was there.
Demanding pleasure, but not giving. That seemed unnatural for her ? her husband tried to satisfy her and she, in her turn, tried to do something pleasant for him; without demanding for own ? maybe, because of that they had a harmony in relations. Almost harmony ? from time to time she was remembering her previous love ? without regret but still.
That short trip gave much ? she could honestly say farewell to him. Putting a dot in their relations. The only things she regretted was that such a night did not occur some years ago.
Mirabelle retuned to her room. She put off her clothes and went to a shower. Though nothing more that some kisses happened ? she firmly refused to make love with him, she wanted to clean herself ? from his touches, from her previous thoughts.
Next days she took the documents she needed and went to the airport to change tickets ? they did it without problems. Mirabelle returned to a hotel to take her things. She had a look in a restaurant ? but he was not there. It was not that she was afraid to meet him, but did not really want. It was possible to omit the questions, the answers to which he would never understand. She had a look around the number to check if she took her all things. The room was nice, the balcony with a view too ? but it was a cold beauty, a beauty that was not shared with her husband.
Mirabelle went home. Fully happy. At last she finished the relations that she had to finish years ago.
November, 2005.
Copyright © 2006 Victoria Z All rights are reserved.