by Calia Read
Or maybe it was all of those things wrapped up in one. I didn’t know because I was too busy trying to push her away. Too busy postponing the inevitable.
I was unsure about so much but I knew one thing for sure: Katja was the only permanent in my life.
I couldn’t wash her off. She’d crawled beneath my skin, seeped into my veins.
“Mathias, you’re too late.”
Katja’s words replayed over in my head like a broken record.
As much as I wanted to deny it, I knew she was right. The minute I saw the ring on her finger I knew it. I just didn’t want it to be true.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my e-mails. A month after Katja left, my heart started to eat at my pride. Slow bites at first, then it became greedy and took handfuls. It didn’t stop until I had none left. I gave in and e-mailed Simone. At first she didn’t reply. I never stopped writing her and I wasn’t going to until I had a reply. Last week, Simone wrote back.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Katja
(01:31)
May 1, 2013
Simone, I need to know that she’s doing okay. I’ll keep messaging you until you answer.
~M
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Katja
(22:10)
May1, 2013
She is doing good. Pulled away from playing publicly. She’s now giving lessons. She likes it.
Lukas proposed last month. Katja said yes.
~S
I walked by the club where I first met Katja.
Outside there was a line that curved around the building. Women in ridiculously short skirts huddled together and guys stood in a circle, smoking as they spoke in rapid German.
There wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to be in that line.
Instead, I went to the bar across the street. What I needed right now was a drink that would make me forget about my encounter with Katja this afternoon, not a club packed with bodies.
When I stepped into the bar, a cloud of smoke hit me. It was after six and the place was fairly busy. A few people littered around the pool table. Only two or three were sitting at the bar. I went straight to the bar, ordered my drink, and pulled out my pack of cigarettes.
Any sane person would be on the next flight out of here. But I’d never claimed to be sane.
What kept me here was the way Katja didn’t proudly show off her engagement ring, but hid it behind her back. That showed me that there was still a chance for me to fight for what was mine.
And now, here I was, drinking away the pain like any good man does when they’re in love.
Hopelessly and deeply in love.
There should be a label and a fine print with this feeling. Something to warn you about what’s going to slam into you.
There was nothing.
No warning.
No label.
One day you were a normal fucking person living your life and the next … BAM. Love hit you like a freight train and you were done for. The only way to escape that love was to find something even bigger and better, but let’s be honest, that was almost impossible.
After my second beer, I finally pulled my gaze away from the water stains on the bar and looked around, only to stop short when I saw Lukas sitting five seats down from me. His elbows rested on the counter. Four empty beer bottles were lined up in front of him. He stared down at the almost-empty bottle dangling from his right hand. I’d been there. Hell, I was there.
I stood up and made my way over to him.
Talking to him was a bad idea. Just being in the same space was dangerous. I slammed my beer onto the counter.
“What are you doing here when your beautiful fiancé is at home waiting for you?” I didn’t bother hiding anger and bitterness out of my voice, and Lukas didn’t hide his hatred for me.
He jumped out of his chair, leaning slightly toward the left and shoved a finger in my face. “Go fuck yourself.”
I smiled. “I haven’t been able to congratulate the happy couple.” I raised my beer in the air. “Probst to you and Katja! I wish you a happy life filled with love, health, and happiness.”
“Just leave her the hell alone.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a few people glancing our way. I should have stepped away before this went from bad to worse, but misery loved company and I wanted nothing more than to bring Katja down. In my mind I saw him touching her body, claiming it as his own, and I saw red. My fingers curled into fists.
“I can’t.”
Lukas looked ready to beat me to death. “You’re just here because I took what you thought was yours.”
My shoulders straightened.
“It’s driving you crazy that she chose me.”
I smiled darkly. “But who did she want first?”
His eyes widened and his nostrils flared, and I knew I’d hit a sore spot. As much I wanted to stay here and take all my anger out on him, I knew I needed to leave right now. Pulling out my wallet, I tossed a few bills onto the bar and walked away.
“It was a pleasure talking to you, Lukas.”
Taking a deep breath, I walked to the exit, telling myself I couldn’t beat him within an inch of his life. I was so close to leaving. My hand reached for the door handle when I was pushed from behind.
I stumbled and whipped around. Lukas stood a few steps away, with rage in his eyes.
The entire place was quiet, the only sound coming from the TV in the corner.
“Come on, fight!” Lukas shouted. “That’s what you want, right?”
I straightened my shoulders. Right now, a red mist was covering my eyes. Anger took over my body and it became harder and harder to ignore it.
“For Katja, I’m not doing this, and if you love her like you claim you did, you wouldn’t either.”
Lukas lunged for me and I did nothing to stop him. When my back hit the wall, my night went to complete shit.
K A T J A
I ran my fingers over the gold letters that spelled STEINWAY, and opened the lid to the piano.
I sat down behind my piano and stared down at the keys. I tried to remember my life before Mathias. The competitions and triumphs and pitfalls and happiness, but they all seemed dull and lifeless. Nothing compared to my memories with Mathias.
I glanced outside. The sun slowly set, creeping down around the mountains, outlining them in a fiery hue. It was a beautiful sight, but I couldn’t appreciate it; Lukas was still out. I had to eat dinner with his mom. She probed me, trying to find out why Lukas and I argued and if it was because of ‘that person’ who came to see me today.
I told her nothing. Before she left, Johanna told me that everything would be okay. Lukas would come back and we’d work things out. She smiled and patted my cheek, looking so sure of herself.
But what if he didn’t come back? What if Mathias being here was enough to make him walk away? For most couples, their love should be a strong enough foundation to get them through everything, but Lukas and I were not there.
Do you even love him? My heart asked me.
My fingers hesitated over the keys. Lukas would always have a piece of my heart. We’d grown up together—it’d be impossible for him not to. But did I love him like Mathias? No. And I didn’t want that kind of love. The kind that consumed and ate you alive and left you with nothing. That love was terrifying.
Deep in my gut, though, I knew that was the kind of love that lasted.
Down the hall the front door slammed. I ran toward the hallway, only to see Lukas stalking toward me. His left eye was swollen, surrounded in deep shades of blue and plum. Dread threatened to swallow me whole.
“What happened?”
Lukas brushed past me and walked into my bedroom. He flipped on the light and pulled off his shirt. I repeated my question even louder.
“Mathias is what happened!” He snapped as he pulled his shirt ov
er his head. He wadded it up and threw it in the corner. I watched him, a riot of emotions swarming through me.
I stopped myself from grabbing him by the neck and shaking the truth out of him. “And?”
He picked a shirt from random and whirled around. When he looked at me I saw nothing but frustration and anger in his gaze.
“And I fucking punched him!”
“Why?”
“That’s your question … why? He’s up to no good, and if you think otherwise, then you’re delusional.” Lukas unbuttoned his jeans and walked to the bathroom.
I followed him and leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t even know what’s going on. One minute I’m telling you that he was knocking at my door, and the next you’re stalking away. If you could fill me in that would be great.”
Lukas leaned against the wall, and his shoulders drooped in defeat. I walked to him and wrapped my arms around him. “I needed to have a breather. So I went and had a drink. Mathias was there and things escalated.” He took a deep breath and dragged his hands through his hair. “He’s never going to give you up.”
I shook my head, trying to erase his words and stepped into his arms. Lukas held me tightly.
“It was just a fight, okay? We’re still together. Nothing can change that.”
Lukas kissed the top of my head and I smiled; the worst was behind us. “I know that. But he doesn’t know that.”
“So, what now? You don’t want to marry me?” I gently teased but deep down there was this undercurrent of fear that he really doesn’t.
“Of course I want to.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek with the softest of touches. “But the better question is: do you want to marry me?”
“Yes,” I said fast. Probably a little too fast.
Lukas brushed his lips across mine. Like always, he was gentle and caring. I gripped his face tightly and tilted my head. My tongue slid against his. He groaned loudly and responded just the way I wanted him to.
His hands curved around my thighs and inched their way up, up, up. They dipped into my underwear. That’s when I ripped myself away.
Lukas blinked rapidly, as if in a trance, and reached for me. I held him back with one hand and gave him a reassuring smile. Inside, though, I was freaking out. For a second, when he touched me, I saw Mathias’ face in. I felt Mathias’ touch.
“I’ll let you take your shower.”
I hurried out of the room, trying to escape the ghost of Mathias.
K A T J A
When the doorbell rang my head snapped up.
I froze and stared blindly at the wall. A frisson of apprehension danced down my spine. I hadn’t seen Mathias in four days. It had been relatively quiet. Uneventful. It was almost like I dreamed him knocking at the door. Was I too quick in hoping that things were going back to normal? I finished wiping down the counter and walked out of the kitchen and opened the front door.
Brigitte stood there, dressed in a perfectly pressed floral dress and white cardigan. Quickly, I felt like a dummy for ever thinking it was Mathias to begin with.
In Brigitte’s small hands was a huge bouquet of flowers. She offered them up to me proudly.
I took them and smile. “What is this for?”
“I didn’t get them for you. They’re from this tall man.”
I lifted my head, suddenly looking at this young girl as if she had a gun pointed at me. “What?”
Brigitte nodded and stepped into the house. “He was just here. Asked me to give them to you.”
There was a card tucked in the middle of the bouquet. Without opening it, I knew who sent them.
“You can’t talk to strangers, Brigitte.”
“I know that. But this man knew you.”
A single brow lifted. “How do you know that?”
Brigitte leaned in and smiled. She cupped both hands around her mouth, as if she was sharing top-secret information. “He told me to give these flowers to my beautiful teacher.” Her eyes lit up. “I didn’t believe him, and then he told me that he hurt you and he has to show you that he’s not going anywhere.”
She grinned widely, with a puppy dog look in her eyes.
Dear God, even a six-year-old was charmed by him.
My back became ramrod straight. There was the smallest part of me that wanted to shake the life out of Mathias. Out of everything, why now? When I was trying to get my future in place. Move-on.
You haven’t moved on. You just think you have.
Brigitte’s wide smile faded the longer I stayed silent. “What did he do to make you sad?”
“Nothing.” I sighed. “He did absolutely nothing.”
Brigitte scrunched up her nose, as if my words weren’t good enough for her. “You should forgive him.”
Sliding the card into my back pocket, I lifted my head and smiled brightly at Brigitte. “There’s nothing to forgive.” I pointed toward the hall. “You can go to the studio. I’ll be there in a second.”
She shrugged and walked away. I turned back to the open door and stepped outside. I scanned the streets, looking for Mathias. He was nowhere in sight. That didn’t mean he wasn’t watching. My eyes narrowed. I walked over to my neighbors. Frau Gundling opened the door and frowned at me. She was an older woman who mainly kept to herself. Generally, we only politely spoke to each other in passing.
I held the flowers between us. “These are for you.”
Before she could reply, I turned around. As I walked across the street I couldn’t help but wonder if he was watching. I hoped he was. I hoped he saw that it took more than beautiful flowers and a note to glue a heart back together.
K A T J A
Two days later more flowers arrived.
This bouquet was bigger than the last. Reluctantly, I took them from the delivery man. The urge to read the card was powerful.
I didn’t smell them or stare at them because if I did, that steel wall I’d erected would crumble.
“He can’t love you. He’ll give you everything but what you want,” my mind whispered.
That’s what I needed to focus on. Mathias may have an interest in me now, but the past had showed me that his interest would only last for so long before it slowly faded away and then disappeared altogether.
Feeling more resolute, I opened the door back up. My shoulders squared back and my chin held high as I walked onto the street and across the backyard of the neighbors that lived below me. They had a cute little patio set where they always had their morning coffee. Sometimes in the afternoon, I saw the woman taking care of her flowers. If anyone would appreciate this bouquet, it was her.
I placed the flowers on the glass table and took a step back to look at them. As I walked away, I told myself that they looked much better there instead of in my house. My neighbor would at least take care of them, whereas I would keep them alive for maybe a few days before I became distracted and let the flowers slowly die.
Even so, I had to fight the urge to turn right around and grab my flowers.
“He can’t love you.”
The words were said louder, with more force. I continued walking.
Before I stepped inside, I glanced around one more time just to see if anyone was watching.
This time it was harder to close the door. All I could picture in my head was Mathias’ face when he saw my engagement ring. The hurt in his eyes and his words: “What did you do, Katja?”
K A T J A
The same delivery guy who gave me the second bouquet was standing at my front door two days later. This time the arrangement was bigger and better. Beautiful calla lilies.
He handed them to me, giving me a knowing smile that said: “Someone must have fucked up.”
He had no idea.
I shut the door behind him and stared helplessly at the flowers. They really were beautiful. I brushed a finger across one of the smooth petals.
I couldn’t give them to Frau Gundling. She’d think I’d robbed a flower shop or at least had an infatuation with her.
A lot. Most importantly my heart. But it had been a week since Mathias knocked on my front door. My defenses were weakening. If he knocked on the door right now, I wouldn’t be as quick to shut the door in his face.
Before I could change my mind, I ripped open the envelope. My hands were shaking as I pulled out the small, white card.
I snapped the card shut, as if I could erase his words. But it was too late. The damage had been done and now they were imprinted upon my soul. Just like the memory of him.
I put the card in my back pocket. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep it or rip it up into thousands of pieces.
Sometimes when I couldn’t sleep, I let my guard down and searched through our memories, trying to find the moment where everything went wrong. Everyone around me would say that all the moments were wrong.
And I should too.
But there was this part of me that came rushing to Mathias’ defense. I wanted to tell them that they didn’t know him like I did. They didn’t see that there was layer after layer of him, each one revealing something better than the last.
The bad parts of him were onyx, with not a glimmer of light in that cavernous space. But that glimpse of the real him? Oh, that was beautiful.
Exhaling loudly, I glanced at the flowers. My eyes narrowed as though the bouquet was enemy number one.
In five minutes, my next student would be here. I couldn’t hide out in my kitchen all day, no matter how much I wanted to. Before I could think twice, I pushed away from the counter and snatched the flowers up.
As I walked down the hall I buried my face into the bouquet and inhaled. A faint smile pulled at my lips. I carried the flowers and put them in my studio, placing them on an end table directly in front of a window.
