Chapter 20 – October 16, 1993 – Camille #2
“Not horribly,” he answered, pulling out the chair and sitting next to me.
I shouldn’t speak. I was about to be short with him.
I was furious with his nonchalant attitude.
I wanted to slap him across the face and shake some common sense into him—ask him how he thought any part of his actions was okay.
It took all of my willpower to keep myself composed. My cereal was getting mushier by the minute as I studied his behavior.
The faint smell I could only describe as being him was covered in Olivia’s now-sickly familiar vanilla and sandalwood perfume, ripping me from the present.
To make things worse, dwelling on the thought of the two of them together forced me to remember my older brother and our last interactions.
I hated the fact that he was making me connect him—the one person who grounded me from that memory, the one person who comforted me—with the one memory that kept me up some nights.
My heart rate quickened, and I fought my racing thoughts as they told me to run.
I had to hold my ground, as Mystique advised.
I wanted to hyperventilate as I remembered the details in slow motion.
I wanted to think I was getting good at shoving panic attacks deep in my chest to prevent making a scene, but the agony in my chest told me it might be the day I let it loose.
Mystique was pouring cereal and milk into another bowl. She was leaving my next action up to me. She would flee the scene before whatever might go down between Erich and me happened. She kept her words to a minimum. “Excellent.”
I continued to eat my cereal, trying to pay Erich no attention.
The least he could do was put on a shirt or take a shower before he left Olivia’s bedroom.
Of course, it wasn’t a big deal to him. He had no regard for what Mystique and I could have been thinking or feeling about how he paraded into the kitchen from Olivia’s room half-dressed.
The way Olivia made it sound, that was a normal morning in the apartment when they were together.
Mystique set the cereal in front of Erich, checked the clock hanging above the stove, and swore in an unknown language under her breath.
“I have an appointment in ten minutes. Better go unlock the doors and get the shop ready.” She rushed back to the counter, putting the cereal and milk away before heading to the door.
“You know where to find me if you need me.” Her eyes met mine. Her smile was directed at me.
That was her way of escaping—voicing a reminder of our conversation without speaking it.
As she left, I held spite in my heart at how Mystique ditched me to be alone with Erich. I could’ve used the backup, or at least an ally to keep me in check so I wouldn’t tear him to shreds on accident.
“Did you sleep okay?” Erich asked.
“Just fine,” I answered. I wasn’t very hungry anymore.
Erich seemed to catch the shortness in my answer but didn’t let my hostility scare him away. “What do you want to see here? Today’s your day to live your wildest tourist dreams. We’ve got nowhere to be and nothing to do.” He didn’t pause to chew, instead speaking with food in his mouth.
“I’ll be sure to ask Olivia for recommendations.” I pushed the chair out, picking up my bowl to dump it. Erich watched me with raised eyebrows, and I felt his eyes follow me to the sink. “When she wakes up, since you were careful not to wake her when you left her bedroom.”
“Seriously?” Erich asked, nearly choking on his cereal as he fought back a snicker. “Was I supposed to?”
I poured the milk down the sink drain and rinsed the bowl out. I dropped it, and it hit the bottom of the sink much louder than I intended. If I weren’t so mad, the loud plastic thud would’ve startled me.
“I want to leave.” I summoned all of my strength before turning to face him. His eyes appeared slate gray in the minimal morning light. If I imagined it was my fingers running through his hair and not Olivia’s, I might not be as angry—but I wouldn’t let that get in my way now.
For being such an inconsiderate person, unable to read what I was feeling due to his actions, he seemed considerate once I said I wanted to leave. “We will soon.”
“Olivia isn’t coming,” I continued. I wouldn’t let my gaze move from his. I would not show weakness. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Did I say she was?” Erich’s signature smirk grew as he was entertained by what I had to say. Much like he was mocking me for having the strength to confront him. I didn’t let it tear my newfound confidence apart. I had to hold my ground and show that his teasing wasn’t going to make me back down.
“I don’t care if you did or didn’t,” I said. “She isn’t coming.”
“Got it.” His smirk never left his eyes.
I could punch him—summon the strength of rage to knock him down a few pegs—but I knew I would likely hurt my hand more than I would him.
He thought I was nothing more than a tiny kitten trying to climb a couch, learning to use its claws and falling before hissing in frustration.
“This isn’t a joke.” My voice rose. “I could hear you last night. You think you were being quiet, that I would never know? And if I did, I wouldn’t be bothered by it?”
Erich’s aura of amusement vanished, replaced by shock. He dropped his spoon into the bowl, his eyes locked on mine.
“You played a pretty convincing show with me around, didn’t you?” I asked, feeling my temper boil. “Rejecting her, saying over and over again how little you felt for her now. That you’d take the couch. Am I wrong?”
Erich ran a hand through his already messy hair. He was speechless.
“And I am bothered by it,” I continued. “Why lie in front of me if you were going to be in the next room, anyway? Am I undeserving of your honesty?”
“I wasn’t thinking,” he said. “That must’ve been hard for you—”
“It’s not about that.” My hand came down on the table. “I’m not afraid of sex. I just thought better of you before this.” I wanted to pace, but I held still. “I’m leaving tonight. With or without you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” His eyes turned cold.
“There’s nothing ridiculous about it,” I said, leaning forward. “If you’re not coming, you’re getting left behind.”
Erich stared at me in disbelief, then shook his head and cursed under his breath. He pushed the chair out forcefully, nearly tipping it.
“Pack up, then.” He slammed his bowl into the sink, milk splashing up the sides. “We’ll leave this afternoon.”
I couldn’t believe Mystique was right.
He walked past me, and I caught the smell of him mixed with Olivia’s perfume again—but I wasn’t sick from it anymore.
I felt like I had won.
My heart was still in pieces, but I had won.
I heard the bathroom door shut and the shower turn on. Erich left me alone in the kitchen.
With my victory in mind, I went back to the guest bedroom to gather my things.