Perfect Opposite (33 page)

The bottle was nearly empty and I stared at the light reflected on its surface, then poured the last of it into my glass with a flick of my wrist. The room was starting to float a little so I set my head against Mike’s shoulder.

“Unfortunately.” he continued, “that did absolutely nothing to put the girls off his scent of course - quite the opposite, in fact. They buzzed around him like bees after pollen and there seemed to be more of them, the more distant he became.”

“Were there really a lot of them?” I struggled, feeling the words heavy on my tongue.

“A lot of what?”

“Girls.”

“Does it matter?” he leaned over and stroked my cheek gently with the back of his hand, “Why would you beat yourself up over it?”

F
or a few moments he just watched without saying a word, and when our eyes met, I sensed him flinch and look away fast.

“Y
ou still love him.” he bit down on the words.

“Yeah...”

It’s absurd, I know, t
he fact that my heart still beats for
a person who isn't among the living anymore. But, yes. I still love him. And I think that I always will.

Every morning, before I opened my eyes, I expected to see his gray eyes watching me. Every day, when I walked down the street, I felt a certain confidence when I remembered him by my side. When I was out, I looked for anything that might remind me of him in the guys I met. I still slept on the left side of the bed because that’s how it had been – he was always on the right, not far away.

“I never cared...” I croaked, “I always knew he didn’t feel the same way, but I never cared...”

“Well, that’s some irony.
” Mike laughed sourly and shook his head. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Don’t. Please
, don’t try to make me feel better. There’s no need. I knew it and I accepted it.”

I buried my face deeper under Mike’s shoulder and closed my eyes, listening to his deep breathing.

“You know, doll ... the most difficult thing is to open the eyes of those who don’t wanna see.”

I wasn’t sure how much time I spent curled next to Mike, and when he spoke again the first light of dawn was already breaking.

“You never asked me what Alex’s real name was. Why?”

“Because, it didn’t matter. I never knew that other guy...” I whispered.

“Maybe you should have asked, doll.”

“I’m not sure if I want to know.”

He took my left hand and spread my fingers so that they fanned out, bringing it up with his own so that my wedding band was right in front of my eyes.

“Because of his Russian origin, he was almost always sent to missions that were linked to the Russian mafia. Aleksey, Roman, Dimitri... these are just some of the names he used when he was working on different operations, but his real name is Oleg.” he paused for a moment and squeezed my hand, “Oleg Andreyev.”

At first I didn’t understand what he meant to say
. The name did sound familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. And then... I remembered.

It’s not pos
sible!

T
he ID Alex showed me the day we “got married”. The one he used when we filled in the marriage papers at the town hall.

“But... but he told me that
those were fake documents.” I blinked a few times and put my hand over my mouth, “Why?”

“So they wouldn’t get
him to testify against you.”

Horror-stricken, I could only stare at
Mike.

“Oleg was going to be the key witness in
the case against your father and his partners.” he sighed and looked away, “ Then he found out charges were brought against you as well, and that was the only way to avoid having to testify against you. By law, spouses can’t testify against each other...”

One, two, three...

I started to count to myself, trying to fight off the demons that were breaking through the walls I’d put up around myself.

“
There wasn’t any ‘bounty’ on your head, doll. He made that up because he couldn’t tell you the truth. When he told me what he’d done I said he was mad, ‘cause there was a real risk it would get him fired or even sent to prison.”

“But
, why? Why did he do that?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Why?”
Mike let out a bitter laugh and dropped his eyes, “I’ve known it since that night when you both showed up at my door. The expression on his face when you passed out told me everything I needed to know. Oleg would never have admitted it, of course... but I clocked it straight off.” Mike’s voice was coming to me from far, far away.

Four, five...

I felt cracks grow in the dam I’d come to rely on.

“A month later, he burst in when I was in the middle of surgery and pushed an envelope full of money and some plane tickets into my hand.
He pointed a bloody gun at me, crazy son of a bitch, and made me promise to take you out of the country if anything went wrong, and if the police came after you. Well... that sealed it for me...”

Six, seven...

“I really didn’t think my friend would ever come back to this world and fall in love. I guess I was wrong.”

Eight, nine...

I didn’t get any further because the walls that had kept me composed crumbled in an instant. After more than half a year I felt the tears well up finally and roll down my cheeks unbidden.

Everything I’d kept inside for all this time - pain, sadness, anger, guilt, remorse... within moments everything had collapsed and crowded in on me. The fire burning in my soul turned into a blaze that threatened to engulf the whole world as I twisted the sheets in my hands and held back the scream that was building in my throat. I buried my face in a pillow, and let it out.

***

The following day I woke up at seven in the evening.

Although it had been morning for quite some time when I eventually fell asleep, that hadn’t stopped me from waking barely an hour later in a cold sweat. I’d only managed to get to sleep a second time after taking the damp sheets off the bed and wandering aimlessly through the house for a couple of hours, memorizing the various street scenes visible through the different windows of the house.

This routine had become more or less normal for me, since the nightmares had become an intrinsic feature of my life. I’d more or less come to terms with the fact that I’d have to revisit that fateful, hellish hour, night after night in my dreams. It was my own, personal purgatory as I hung between the land of the l
iving and that of the dead. But, if my stupidity and stubbornness had led directly to the death of the man I loved, then it was only right that I never be allowed to forget it.

Moving my feet down off the bed and onto the floor, I felt crumpled sheets between my toes and then discarded clothing from the night before as I made my way to the bathroom. Avoidi
ng my reflection in the mirror, I stepped straight into the shower to let the water bring me round.

I put on the first clean clothes
I could lay my hands on and went down to the kitchen in search of something to silence the oompah orchestra and the disco lights in my head. In a drawer mostly filled with bits of string and old screws, I found a blister pack of aspirin and swallowed two, washing them down with some filter coffee Mike had left in a cup in the fridge. Waiting for the pills to take effect, I sat down at the table and lit a cigarette, watching the tomcat’s belly rise and fall as he dozed lazily next to the sink.

“Good-for-nothing
.” I grumbled and blew smoke towards his nose, at which he just buried his face deeper in his fur and went on sleeping.

The sound of a key turning in the lock broke the early evening silence,
announcing Mike’s return before he walked into the kitchen, humming a tune and carrying an unusually large cloth sack. He fell silent as soon as he saw me sitting there.

“Well hey. How are you feeling?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m fine.”

“Really?
After last night you’re fine?

“I don’t want to talk about that
.”

“But...”

“Please, don’t drag the whole thing up again now. I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

For a few moments he stood still, looking uncertain, as though he honestly didn’t know what to do for the best, but then a gentle smile came to his lips and he approached me.

“I have a surprise for you.” he grinned so that his face lit up and I sighed with relief, thankful he’d got the message and changed the subject.

“What is it?”

“Well if I let the cat out of the bag, it won’t be a surprise then, right?”

“Oh,
come on...” I tugged on one of his dreadlocks hanging down over his eyes. “Tell me.”

“Hmm... I’m taking you to a very special party tonight.”

This was a surprise, and though I was far from being in the right mood to see a crowd of people that night, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I knew very well that Mike had come up with this out of the goodness of his heart and from a fear that I might slide into a deep funk once again.

“Special? Do I even dare to ask what that means?”

“You’ll figure it out for yourself. I suggest you to start getting ready, everything you need is here.” he winked and let the sack drop down on the floor close to my feet.

“What would I need?”

”Be patient. You’ll see. “

“When you chuckle to yourself like that, I know I should be worried.”

I turned my attention to the sack and looked at him through narrowed eyes as I started to spill its contents on the floor. Emptying the items didn’t dispel my confusion, however, and my frown grew even deeper as I stared at the pile of… whatever it was.

I found myself studying a wicker basket, a bunch of carrots, leeks and radishes, a white bonnet, some wooden clogs and enough white and blue frilled cotton to upholster a sofa. There was also a wooden cane with a curved handle that turned out to be made of cardboard. Mike was standing over me the whole time, waiting for a reaction.

“What the hell is this?” I pointed to the bunch of random weirdness in front of me and looked up at his face questioningly, at which point he doubled over in a fit of laughter, so that it took quite some time for him to compose himself once more.

“It’s your costume. Isn’t it just a gas? We’re going to a masquerade!”

“That’s too childish, even by your standards. And who am I supposed to be in this get up anyway?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, pre
tending to be outraged, “A little farm girl, of course.”

“Of course... poke fun at me, and at Nikolai’s expense why don’t you…” I grabbed a leek and swung it towards his head, hoping to knock some sense into him. “I can’t even imagine going to a party dressed like that, not even for a second.”

“Hey! Do you know how much effort it took to find such a beautiful example of a fresh leek in February?” he went on complaining as I got up to him around the table.

“If I have to play a farm girl, what’re you gonna be? A lost sheep?”

“Not exactly...” he said and escaped by darting through the door in the direction of his room.

I stopped chasing him and rolled my eyes, sitting down at the table to examine the assortment of vegetables now covering the floor.

When Mike appeared at the kitchen door a few minutes later, I almost fell off my chair.

“
Oh my God!” I could only gawp at the sight before me.

“What’ve you got to say now, hey?
Ain’t it the best?”

In a bright yellow leotard that exposed his chest
, with a long blonde handlebar mustache and a headband on his head, Mike was grinning like a moron. This was the icing on the cake. Of all people, he had chosen to go as Hulk Hogan.

“I wouldn’t be seen dead with you dressed like that!”

“What are you talking about? It’s going to be a blast.” he grinned, adjusting his bright red headband.

“Yeah, it’s totally within the bounds of good taste to walk hand in hand with a bare-chested guy in a yellow leotard. Have you lost your marbles?”

“Don’t be a wet blanket and get dressed! You’ll see, we’ll be the stars of the show tonight.”

“
I can’t wait...”

I somehow accepted that nothing could change the evening ahead and picked up the various sections of
my costume, slinking up to my room to put it all on, surprised at myself for not putting up more of a fight.

“You’ll pay for this, I swear.” I elbowed Mike in the ribs as we were leaving the house an hour later, not quite believing that I was going along with it all..

I felt like a complete idiot in my long powder-blue skirt with its five petticoats underneath. My white blouse shone with sequins and embroidery down the front, as colorful bows and ribbons hung all around. On my head, two long blonde fake plaits trailed down at the sides, sewn into the seams of a high bonnet with bright flowers sticking out of it. In one hand I was carrying the basket complete with all the fresh vegetables Mike had bought, and in the other there was my cane.