Read Heroine: The Husband's Cologne Online
Authors: Elia Mirca
In any case, I had done nothing more than talk to Daniel. He proceeded to take off with his friends, and
Timo stood at the bar and drank and I chatted with my girlfriends. Granted, Daniel and I had danced one or two times. But I had danced with other men as well. And now here I am in this scene with Timo.
A heated argument broke out between us in the car; unpleasant words like “whore” and “asshole” were hurled at one another. And suddenly we were in the roadside ditch. That's all I can remember, because the next thing I knew I was in the hospital. We had had a serious accident.
Timo had called the ambulance, even though he was stinking drunk and knew he would lose his driver's license. At least he had that much good sense. The Red Cross arrived with its blue lights and its sirens going, as he recounted to me years later, after we had reconciled. Unfortunately, two police cars also showed up at the scene and grilled him with a serious of uncomfortable questions, topping it off with an alcohol test.
They took his driver's license away for a year, and his luxury car, which wasn't fully paid up yet. I later discovered
, it was a complete wreck. It was only my testimony in court, where I had insisted he drive me home even though I knew he was drunk, which spared him more serious trouble.
The female judge had apparently been used to dealing with beautiful women and their influence on testosterone-ridden men, because she gave me an unsettling look during the brief hearing.
But this all happened months later.
I lay on a white bed in the hospital, with an IV drip beside my head, a needle in my arm, a massive headache and a bandaged chest. It could have been worse. I had sustained a concussion and a contusion to the ribs. For the hospital's demigods in white, it was enough reason to keep me in their care until I was back on my feet.
One day there was a knock at the door, and as I said “come in.” I saw a bouquet of flowers in the doorway with a pair of jeans and a gray shirt visible beneath. I thought the concussion was making me hallucinate, when the bouquet was lowered to reveal Daniel's face. To be honest, he was the last person I expected to see that day.
Destiny seemed to be stepping in. He came to see me
every day, listened to me, talked a little himself and after three days we were close friends. The day I was released from the hospital, he was standing outside and embraced me before I got into my father's car. When we drove away, my father said:
“He must be in love with you, as devoted as he is.”
It was clear. Something inside me clicked and I offered my father an insightful reply.
“Huh?”
He turned to me in the passenger seat.
“Don't you get it? Since he came back he's done nothing but ask about you.”
Again, I replied. “What?”
I found out that he had been back in the city for a couple of months now and would ask my parents about me at every given opportunity, even when he happened to run into them in a coffee shop, for instance. Apparently, he had even brought me flowers sometime earlier in the hospital, and I had mistakenly thought they were from someone else.
“I think you've spent enough time with that Hallodri (
which is Austrian term for dimwit
) boyfriend of yours, why don't you find yourself somebody decent,” were my father's parting words shortly before we got home.
What did he mean by that? He had obviously picked up the word “
Hallodri” in Austria (where he still went for holidays). Might he know something about what I had done there? How well did I actually know my father?
He was pushing 60 and I realized that I didn't know him all that well. How much did he know of the things I was up to? Did he even care? I had always harbored the sense that my father and I lived in different worlds, and
that his was beyond my reach. There was so much that had to be cleared up, because there was a lot that I had locked away in my subconscious. This dawned on me only many years later, however. When we arrived home I unpacked my things and put them in the room that I had resolved to leave behind me for good just a few months prior. Then I called Daniel, who had moved back in with his mother. We met up, saw each other increasingly often after that, and it wasn't long before I slept with him. That was the beginning.
In less than a year, we were married. It was not because my father wanted to see me “settle down.” We promptly found our own place in Cologne, where I embarked on my studies at the university, while Daniel graced the technical college with his presence, the one that Norman had persuaded him to attend. Daniel's apprenticeship didn't take long. When he received his diploma two years later, there was nothing to make him stay in Cologne, and he applied to an IT firm in Stuttgart in southern Germany. He wanted me to join him once I had completed my studies, and then we were to live together. And I was ready to follow him anywhere, except there.
Daniel was gone and I was alone. We had a small apartment in Cologne, not too far away from the university. We had lots of friends in the city, with guests over regularly for dinner. But now, after Daniel had moved to Stuttgart, I felt the emptiness set in.
He came home nearly every weekend, but he arrived late on Friday night, which wouldn't leave much time for us. He was always exhausted from the drive, and on Sunday afternoon he'd be off again. Sometimes, as I sat in the apartment on Sunday evenings in total silence, I would get the feeling I was going crazy.
I wanted to stay in Cologne, finish my studies, perhaps even open up a small practice of my own, as I had begun to specialize in psychotherapy. I thought Daniel might be able to return to Cologne eventually, once he found an IT firm over here. But he had laughed at the idea, saying he couldn't count on Cologne. Also, the nearest IT center was in Paderborn, and that was out of the question. At least we were in agreement about Paderborn. And so we spent time comforting and loving one another, although we hadn't made any headway.
Sad and despondent, I decided to take a stroll in the city one day. Looking back on it now, I'm convinced that I was subconsciously making my way toward Norman's place; and as it happened, we ran into each other. Or rather, he was sitting on the terrace of Cafe Hell, one of our favorite haunts. It was an autumn day and probably one of the last days that one could sit outdoors.
He called out to me, waved me over and I took a seat at his table. Since our brief one-night stand I had seen him quite often, but usually Daniel was with us, or Norman was in the company of some woman or other. At any rate, we hadn't chatted privately in a while.
He asked how I was doing, and I opened up to him about the problems I was having. We spoke of why he hadn't moved to Stuttgart with Daniel, considering that he had also completed his studies. He told me that he was doing his doctorate degree, having transferred from the technical college to the university. And Stuttgart didn't interest him in the least; if he were to move anywhere, Hamburg would be the only alternative to Cologne.
Inside I felt my anger toward Daniel rise. If Norman could do it, why couldn't my fool of a husband do it? I remembered that Daniel had wanted to get out of Cologne at all costs, longing to live in southern Germany, where he had travelled extensively during his days in the army. In particular, it was Bavaria that attracted him, which was not too far from Stuttgart, after all.
Norman asked me what I was up to tonight, and considering that I was alone, did I want to go for a night out on the town?
“Sounds tempting,” I said with a deliberately suggestive look. “But I thought you had a steady girlfriend again.”
“Oh, she's away this week, she has to visit with relatives and look for a job,” he replied blithely.
My sadness and longing turned to wrath. It was wrath towards Daniel, who had left me here alone to go climb some godforsaken mountains. Well then, two could play at that game. I would climb on top of Norman tonight.
“Fine,” I said, “and I want the full treatment.”
Norman looked at me stunned for a moment, and then gave one of his easy laughs and we left. We went to a few bars to talk to friends and acquaintances, then stopped off at a nightclub and finally took a taxi home to his place. Quietly we climbed the wooden stairs to the attic floor, for his landlady was home tonight and had requested some peace and quiet. Good lord, was that going to be possible tonight?
His apartment looked the same as it had the first time, only the music and guests were missing. I went straight into his bathroom, freshened up a little and slipped out of my panties and bra, both of which I left on the dresser. The panties were too expensive to be added to Norman's trophy collection. Barefoot and wearing nothing but jeans and a t-shirt, I walked out. I could hear that he was already upstairs.
I entered the attic room, which had changed completely. The pitched roof beams now had mirrors everywhere. Near the headboard there was a larger mirror, which hung slightly askew, like artwork, from the wall. Lying on the mattress, it was impossible not to see everything.
“You seem to like it,” Norman grinned unabashedly and peered at me. That was my signal. It was deliberate. I wanted to abandon myself tonight, to feel small and secure in somebody's arms. I wanted Norman. I closed my eyes. For a moment nothing happened, then I felt Norman moving closer to me and he took me in his arms. I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head on his chest. He leaned his nose on the top of my head and I liked feeling his breath there.
I sensed myself losing control, my legs beginning to shake. I sank deeper into his powerful hands.
He proceeded to lift me up, like a small child, his left arm under the crook of my knee and his right supporting my back. He gently put me down onto the futon. The bedroom light glared, and reflected off the countless mirrors. I told him as much and he dimmed the lights down to a soft, red glow. Lord, he had even thought of that! For an instant I felt uneasy, as if I were a victim, but then the thought I had had earlier returned; I wanted him and needed him. So I went silent and shut my eyes.
When I awoke again, it was to the scent of coffee. The attic door was open, and it was sunny outside. What day was it? I had lost all sense of time. I made my way down the stairs to Norman's room. He sat there, fully dressed, and looked at me, chuckling.
“Hey sweets, just so you know, it's 12 o'clock and the university is closing soon.”
I sat on his lap, put my arms around him, and whispered in his ear:
“I love you, I want to be with you, follow you, have kids, whatever you want.”
For a second he gave me a serious look, and with that, I was back to reality:
“We have to talk,” he said, “get dressed.”
It hit me like a cold shower.
‘
My panties are gone again, dammit’,
I thought as I now stood in the bathroom. They were expensive too, black silk, and actually something I wore to entice men like Norman. Oh well, I guess I could manage just as well without panties. Where did he hide them all anyway? As I walked by him casually and still half-naked to get my jeans, I saw, fleetingly, the lusty twinkle in his eye.
We talked. The feeling of complete synchronicity had vanished, and reality had caught up with me. But I told Norman that I was going to leave Daniel and move in with him.
He swallowed hard, and told me that Daniel was his best friend, and that everything had its limits. In short, he didn't want to be with me, at least not long-term; it just wasn't in his plans.
Surprisingly, I wasn't taken aback by what he said. Granted, on that night I had seen stars, heaven itself, I had experienced unfathomable depths and heights, as never before.
And yet, something inside me knew that these moments couldn't last in the daily grind. Norman was not somebody I would get along with. He was too domineering and unreliable, and sooner or later he would have left me for some other woman.
Something was missing between us, and it suddenly dawned on me that it was a feeling of security, the comfort of daily life, one might say. In Norman's presence, I saw a lifetime of fear that I might lose him. Even so, it made me cry a little, and I told him how special the night had been for me.
“I know,” he replied, “I've never had a night like this before either.” He fell silent awhile.
And then he told me about Daniel. I was both shocked and touched at the same time, as I heard about their agreement. They had talked it over at length one night, after I had gotten to know Norman better.
Without divulging too many details, Norman had
confirmed to Daniel that he had indeed slept with me.
“He didn't see the first half of what we did, though, he came in later,” said Norman. “I wanted to talk to him, because my conscience was weighing on me. I've known Daniel since forever and we've been through a lot together. After the first night between you and me, I asked him what he had done in the meantime; whether it had worked out with my cousin,” continued Norman.
“He said no, and then made it clear to me that he had watched us. And that he found it great.”
“Great?” I asked, astounded. It puzzled me.
“That's exactly what he said. Basically, it was clear to him that in his absence, you might be able to meet somebody. That's why he asked me to pay attention to you. And if we happened to sleep together, then that was alright. For him, there was more danger of losing you to a stranger. And I was allowed to give you what he could not give you in his absence.”
I see,
I thought. And was none the wiser.