45
For a whole week, I listen to my brain’s commands and don’t check out any new videos. My pleasant routine at Professor Sawyer’s provides me with emptiness and apathy I embrace – anything is better than this horrific pain. My body pushes away sensations and my brain takes over, clear and sharp. I go from one class to the next and use each free moment to study for my upcoming exams. We spend the weekend studying together and taking long walks on the beach. The professor tries to put his hand on my thigh only once. My body reacts by freezing up and he mumbles an apology and doesn’t try to do it again.
He’s perfect, I think as I watch him during a lecture. Any girl in the class would change places with me in a heartbeat, but I can’t be satisfied with the intellectual desire that was my motto for the past few years. I’m not disgusted by him, I’m not appalled by thoughts of us together. The emotion is harder to deal with. An emotion of vast emptiness and numbness that has taken over my entire body, except for my brain, which is still alive and kicking.
Three more weeks pass. Every time I think that there’s a chance for the emptiness to be replaced by a different sensation, my heart constricts with missing him. I continue my daily routine without expecting to really smile, without disappointment when I fake a laugh, and without grumbling when every conversation that isn’t about my studies annoys me.
I’m sitting on the balcony by the dining table. Professor Sawyer pours us some wine and looks troubled. “I can’t believe that time has gone by so quickly,” he says and drinks from his glass. “Tomorrow I’ll take you to the airport.”
“You don’t have to,” I try to smile but give up when the emptiness envelopes me. This time, I’m also apprehensive about returning to the city that sucked me down. “I can take a cab.”
“But I want to.” He puts his glass down on the table and looks at me intently. “You are the reason my life has become exciting, and now I’ll have to come home to an empty house again.”
“I’m sure it won’t be empty for long.” This time I make an effort and fake a smile, trying to comfort this perfect man. “You just need to open your heart. You’re surrounded by women who are waiting for a small sign from you.”
“I don’t want other women.” He gazes at me with those kind eyes and I grow sad. “I think we both know exactly which woman I want.”
His sudden display of emotion leaves me shaken. I try to figure out how to continue our conversation without hurting him.
“Elena,” he says and picks up his glass. “I don’t know what happened to you there and I don’t want to push you to tell me. I do know that you were badly hurt, and that you’re not ready to open your heart yet to anyone else."
I nod and lower my head.
“I’m in no rush.” He takes a sip of wine and refills his glass. “Go back and finish your exams. And if the time comes when you’re ready to give us a chance, I’ll always be here for you.”
I don’t know what to say to him and I have no idea if anything like that could ever happen, but the last thing I want is to disappoint him now. I raise my head, smile at him and nod, knowing that I need to leave this door open. I really do hope that the day will come, and I’ll be able to open my heart to him. I stand up, motion for him to move his chair back, and sit on his lap. He looks surprised, but before he can say anything, I'm holding his head and give him a long comforting kiss. For the first time, my body doesn’t turn to stone and it cooperates. He places his hands on my hips and caresses me gently, his hand creeps up and I let out a groan. This won’t work. I’m not ready yet. I pull back and stroke his cheek, kiss him again on the lips and stand up. “It will happen,” I smile sadly. “The next time I come back here, I’ll be ready.” That seems to satisfy him because he smiles at me in understanding.
I go upstairs to my room, shower, lie down on the bed and call my mom. Like every evening, she tells me about her day at work, about her many admirers, and the respect she gets from her neighbors.
"I'm done chatting," she finally giggles. "Now tell me how it's going with your perfect professor."
“Everything’s great,” I give her my usual answer. “I left the black world, moved over to a white one and my professor is taking care of everything I need.”
“Good…” she mumbles.
“Well…” I prepare to hang up.
“Wait a minute,” she raises her voice and I sigh. “Elena, I was thinking that after what we've been through on your last visit, I deserve to hear the truth.” She says harshly. “For a whole month you have been giving me the same answer, and I try to persuade myself that you're busy, that you're fulfilling your ambitions and living your dream. But that's not true, don’t sell me any stories. Now, I want to hear the truth.”
All the pain that’s been bottled up and buried deep inside me explodes now as I start weeping loudly. My mother doesn’t say anything, and when I calm down a little and start sniffing, I hear her worried sigh.
“Mom, I’m completely broken,” I sob. “I know I fell into a bad place and I know I should have escaped from there and I did. But my heart…” I cry harder. “My heart can’t accept the breakup. I know he disgusts you. That you’re disgusted by his life and everything he stands for. I feel the same way too. But my heart refuses to be disgusted by him.” I wipe my eyes on the sheet. “I can’t feel happiness, I can’t feel satisfaction and I can’t feel any excitement from my achievements in my studies. All I feel is terrible emptiness and I miss his love like crazy – his touch and the way he makes me feel safe. Don’t say anything,” I warn her. “I know I'm stupid. I know he doesn’t make me safe but exactly the opposite. I know that a girl like me could never find her place in his world and that he’d never find his place in my world. But you asked for the truth and this is it.”
I fall silent. My heart is beating wildly, and I rub my eyes.
“I understand,” she says sadly. “Sometimes our hearts do not act wisely. Look at your father—”
“Don’t compare them,” I cut her off angrily and I don’t understand my strong need to defend this man. “Dad ran off and left you to deal with all of his mess on your own. Liam didn’t leave me. He flew all the way to you to protect me. He took me to the university every day and brought me home again so I could continue to study. He didn’t make me stay at home and be his little woman, he even paid my tuition.” I stop for a moment, trying to find Liam in the honest, decent man I just described.
“I am not comparing them,” she sighs. “But I don't want my daughter to live in a world like that. I have the right to want someone better for you.”
“I know,” I reply. “And you’re right. I know that you’re right. I’m going back to Boston tomorrow to take my exams, and then I’ll probably come back here.”
“Talk to me before you decide,” her tone is soft and loving once again. “Don’t shut me out.”
“All right, Mom,” I lay my head down on the pillow, “I love you.”
“ Je t’aime aussi ,” she replies in French and hangs up.
I remain lying down, withdrawn and upset. I look at my new suitcase, all packed and ready for tomorrow, my backpack next to it.
I should be angry at him. I should hate him. And then maybe I’ll be calmer when I go back to Boston. I know exactly what I need to do for that to happen. I pull my laptop off the dresser and put it on my knees. I haven’t watched any videos again, but I haven’t deleted the links, either. I realize that what I’m about to do will make me suffer. I’m hurting myself in order to grow stronger. I don’t have a choice.
I open up the black screen and see that there are many more videos. I find the last one I saw and go to the following one. There is no mention of Liam in it. So I continue to the following videos. The man in the mask talks about the continuing struggles between the heads of the organizations, unusual events, happy events and funerals. Every important piece of information is mentioned, but not a word about Liam. By the fifth video I am yawning, but when I move onto the sixth one, I suddenly see a picture of him with the plastic doll. My heart shatters within seconds and I turn off the computer screen.
I bury my head in the pillow, moan in pain and try to ignore the terrible cramps racking my body. You’re making a mistake by letting him have such an effect on you , my brain scolds. Instead of pain, you need to find the anger, the hatred . But the pain is way too strong. The picture comes back into my head, out of my memory drawers and this time I notice a detail I didn’t see before. How could I miss it? It turns out that some things can confuse even my photographic memory. I sit up and turn the computer back on. I look at it and widen my eyes in surprise. Liam has his hand stretched out, it looks like he’s explaining something to the bleached blonde who is looking at him with a bored expression. And there is a telescope in front of them … a telescope! I examine the picture carefully and I don’t understand how I missed this, they’re at the observatory of the astronomy department at my university! I’ve been there many times on open nights. What are they doing there? I press play. “Scarface and his new companion were seen at Boston University of all places, which is where the Duchess, who hasn’t been seen in a month, goes to school.”
I close the video and go on to the next one. Not a word about Liam, also nothing in the following ones. I don’t give up and continue watching videos until one of them shows another picture of the couple. This time I’m prepared, and my heart doesn’t shatter, but I’m even more confused. What’s going on? They’re standing close to each other, her hand is on his shoulder. He looks amused and is looking straight at the camera. “Oh my God! They’re at the Planetarium in the Boston Museum of Science. I turn off the video and rub the back of my neck.
The only sane thing I can think about is that there’s nothing sane about either of the two pictures I just saw. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I continue watching videos. When I get to the last one, my head is full of all the shocking information that’s happening in Boston’s underworld. Suddenly the picture of me at the airport flashes on the screen. “Anyone who knows anything about the Duchess’s whereabouts can contact us on the encrypted web,” says the man in the mask. And then there’s another picture and my mouth drops open in surprise. Liam and his plastic doll are standing in front of a machine covered with pipes. I put my hand over my mouth and narrow my eyes. This is beyond bizarre. They’re at the Oasis water desalination plant. I visited the facility a few months ago with some schoolmates to observe the impressive physical process of the desalination plant. I was fascinated by the experience and talked about it for weeks, I even told Liam about it. But what the hell are they doing there? The plastic doll was wearing a most unsuitable tight red dress and stiletto heels. She was leaning on Liam with an expression of pain and suffering, but he actually looked very interested in the image in front of him.
I place my finger on the screen, stroking his hair and then turn off the computer and lie down on the bed. I have no idea what the hell I just saw, and I probably won’t ever understand it. All I understand right now is that my heart is bleeding, and my body is burning with passion for the man in the pictures. I pray for the emptiness to return and extinguish the fire between my legs, but it doesn’t happen. I consider postponing my flight for a day or two, just so I can recover from what has just happened to me. But Johanna is being discharged from rehab center tomorrow and I have to be there for her.
Suddenly, I know what I need to do. I jump out of bed and walk towards the door. I open it quietly and stand outside Professor Sawyer’s bedroom. I grasp the door handle and close my eyes. Please let me do this , I beg my brain. This is the only thing that can release me from my nightmare. Maybe I’ll discover passion with him as well. My brain surrenders to my pleas, but my body freezes in place and won’t cooperate. I groan in distress, let go of the handle and return to my bedroom.