"Ta-da," I proudly demonstrate the set table that Christine and I carried from the kitchen to the living room, breaking a couple of nails and scuffing the freshly painted wall.
"Perfect, Soph!" She claps her hands. "Thank you for your help!"
I brush off her praise and adjust the bundle of balloons that are attached to a weighted bag on the floor. The spacious living room in Empire style, with high ceilings is lined with balls, tinsel, tables with snacks and drinks. The surroundings, excluding the decorations and food, are Christine's childhood dream of a castle finally come true.
Christine and I did our best to organize a housewarming party of the highest standard. The food was ordered from an expensive restaurant, and for every bottle of wine and champagne, Christine (or rather her father) had to fork out a lot of dough. Alexander would be proud of me, because I personally chose the wine under the surprised expressions of thesales clerk and Christine.
"Since when did you become a wine sommelier?" she asks, taking a sip of rosé. "This wine is really delicious!"
"You didn't believe me?" I snort in mock insult, suppressing a smile on my face.
"Just never suspected your wine abilities," Christine shrugs and hands me a second glass. I take a sip with her and chuckle. Exactly the soft and berry flavor, as that I expected.
After the interrupted trip to the country restaurant, I wanted to study all the information available on the Internet about wine in order to match Alexander's knowledge and be worthy of him in everything. I have watched dozens, if not hundreds, of videos of winemakers and sommeliers. And later I was able to surprise him when he came to my house for dinner, and a bottle of red dry was waiting for him on the table. A bottle that I had spent most of my budget on.
On the morning after this incident, Alexander left for work early, leaving several bills on the kitchen table. I wanted to be indignant, because I felt like a call girl whose payment is left on the nightstand. But I was smart enough not to fall into hysterics, but to judge sensibly and understand that Alexander simply appreciated my efforts with the wine and perfectly understood how much the bottle had cost. So he returned the money and added a bit more just to be sure he had covered the expense.
Since then, he started leaving me expense money, and when he got tired of constantly withdrawing cash from the ATM, he asked for my bank account number. At first, I resisted because I was uncomfortable. But Alexander, as always, managed to convince me that he was only making sure that I was being properly compensated for my expenses.
"Riding the subway is not safe. Order a car service for yourself, no taxis."
"You always cook dinner for me, but I can't eat you out of house and home. Buy groceries."
"Remember those shoes you saw in the photo? Buy them for yourself. I want to see you tonight. Wearing only the shoes," he smiled provocatively.
I blush deeply when I remember what we did that night. Christine had left to collect her remaining things at her mother's apartment and stayed overnight. It seems to me that every surface in Alexander's house was marked by us. Even the railing of the second floor and sofa on the terrace. Although it was a cold autumn evening, the heat of our passion warmed us to the point of burning.
"By the way," Christine snaps me out of my thoughts. "Great dress. Is that Dolce?"
She narrows her eyes intently. And I know her appraising look. She's mentally calculating the cost of my dress and trying to understand how I could afford it.
"Thank you," I spin around, showing off my new wardrobe in all its glory. "I decided to spend all my savings for you and your party."
It seems that this answer suits her quite well and the wrinkle on her forehead smooths. Christine mutters something like "you shouldn't have" and goes to open the door, where the first guests are already ringing the doorbell.
Gradually, the apartment is filled to capacity with people I know and don't know. Guests include our former classmates from university, and Christine's new friends from a fashionable company of privileged youth. She's enjoying the continuous attention and gladly accepts each housewarming gift. Especially the Baccarat crystal vase and "Christofle" egg with cutlery.
I take a sip of wine and watch Christine in her usual habitat. Today, nothing should overshadow her and the fresh, fashionable renovation of her new apartment in the expensive, uptown area of the city. I'm willing to bet that she would be at the throat of anyone who would dare to pull the blanket of attention from her.
"Hello," a familiar voice says in my ear, and I turn too abruptly, spilling wine all over myself.
I swear through my teeth (another habit I seem to have acquired from Alexander), wiping the spilled wine from the fabric with my palm, and angrily looking at the person who dared to sneak up on me.
"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurt out in low tones.
Christine did not invite him; I know that for sure. From the very beginning, we discussed the guest list, in which even Jeff appeared. Although, I doubt he will be here, unlike my ex.
"Aren't you glad to see me?" Liam runs his fingers nervously through his light brown hair and looks at me uncertainly.
"You weren't invited," I cut off any of his attempts to get through to me, not too kindly. I have suffered too long and I don't want to plunge into that icy whirlpool again.
"I just want to talk to you," he tries again.
"Do you really think that I have something to talk about with a man who betrayed me and left me for another woman after several years together?" I lose my patience and utter everything that has bothered me all this time.
Liam drops his head guiltily and then grabs my hand, clenching his fingers. Breaking out of his grip is not difficult. He is not as assertive and domineering as Alexander. Liam always went with the flow and if he didn't succeed in something, he didn't really get upset.
"Just give me five minutes," he looks up pleadingly. "That's all I need."
Throughout our relationship, I hadn't noticed what a bastard I had attached myself to. It's true what they say that you don't know what you don't know. Liam has no confidents and is weak. Comparing him to Alexander who is self-confident and tough, who knows what he wants and never bustles, I can't believe that I ever saw anything in Liam.
"Just five minutes," I give in and let myself be led into the corridor for our first tête-à-tête after parting. On the way, I catch Christine's surprised look, her lips mouth the words, "what is he doing here?". I shrug in frustration.
"Soph," Liam begins uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot as we find ourselves in a secluded corner of the hallway, "I broke up with Mary."
"And what?" My eyebrows instantly fly up. I don't want to know anything about this. I would rather live in the illusion that he left me for her, and they are living their happiest life with a bunch of small children.
"I realized that I can't live without you," his voice trembles. "She is not you and never will be. She can't replace you."
A hysterical laugh escapes my lips.
"Is that why you left me for her? Because she can't replace me?"
"I didn't know then..."
This conversation is getting even more absurd than I thought.
I roll my eyes, covering them with my fingers. When I open them, I see Alexander's head looming over Liam's shoulder, looking straight at us. I swallow hard because I didn't expect to see him here either. Christine said that her father would not be able to come because of work.
His jaw moves in different directions, and his hands are clenched into fists. He is clearly angry. Guests cautiously walk past him, lowering their eyes, as if water is flowing around an obstacle.
Not a trace of my former bravado remains.
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Forbidden Secret
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