The contract – Chapter eleven

Helen’s dress was that white floral-fruity type that makes you think of summer. The cherry print had a special kick and she knew it. She might have been 7-8 years older than the girls who wore it, but you had to give it to her, she looked good. After mentally ticking every box on her list, Helen had just one more thing to do before leaving the apartment: to put on her large, green, hand-made earrings she just bought. She took her purse and was on her way to meet Sunali. That story he had told her a few weeks back, of when he got lost as a child, really got to her. Or did she just allow it to affect her more than it needed to? What was that saying about women, that they are natural nurturers? Yeah, she smiled, I am definitely a nurturer. Yeah, that’s what she was going to say if he will bring it up. She was the fun provider, “but Sunali, I am also an empathic person and that story just… just made me feel emotional. I might have gotten confused, but that is my bad. I didn’t want to mix things up”. Yeah, that sounds okay to me. Since the failed kiss, they didn’t really keep in touch that much. No more than an occasionally text, where neither of them brought it up.

With a scent of her perfume, “My way” left behind, Helen entered “La Bistro”. It was the place she had told Suna countless times to come check it out, but he never did, justifying that “Christine would be disappointed if I start drinking again”. Which was not fair to Helen, to immediately jump to the conclusion she will tempt him to drink. She just happened to be close to him, when he was at his fun times. Helen liked the sober version of Suna just as much as Christine. But Suna was the type of person who dreamt about his better version, yet he lacked ambition. And Christine was the one around whom he forced himself to act up. Helen was looking at her watch. Is he coming? A few minutes passed and she could already feel a knot in her throat. Her silly summer dress and her hair done, now seemed off. But Sunali entered the restaurant, looking around for her. Helen then managed to relax and with a smile, waved at him.

What’s with the cherries, Hell-en-Cunt? Ignoring her thoughts about her over dressing or even about that nickname she hated, Helen was happy he didn’t stood her up. Especially after the last events.

Zip it, Suna. I’m not gonna justify my clothing choices in front of the man who I’ve seen wore Crocs.

Comfort, have you heard of it? he asked after removing his jacket and taking a seat.

Not if you’re a woman who wears heels on a daily basis. Helen was playing with her green earrings, while watching Suna rolling up his sleeves. He was wearing his shirt open at the first button and he looked as if he was coming from an important meeting, at work. Looking at them, you’d think they were on a second date; cause they were flirty and put together, but the sexual tension was still there. After ordering soda for him and a glass of wine for her, she realized how different it all was now, than the good old days. So this is how it ends, ha? Do I need to tiptoe around you now and drink lime soda, too, she joked.

I fucked up bad, Helen, he confessed.

If this is about the kiss, look I really am sorry, she started. That story you told me, of when you got lost, really got me…

What? No, Helen. Not that. Jesus, I haven’t even thought about it till now. I’m talking about Christine. At the sound of her name, Helen tried her best to stay calm and not roll her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her body language from hiding her jealousy, fussing in her seat. And disappointment of the forgotten kiss. She said I embarrassed her in front of her friends, with my drinking… I even punched a guy, Helen! In front of her! I can’t go on like this.

Like what, Suna? You’ve been partying with me forever and I’ve never felt embarrassed by you. What is she talking about? She couldn’t stop the words coming out of her mouth, even after hearing the surprising news that Sunali had punched somebody.

Did you hear what I’ve said, Helen? I fucking punched a guy! I need to do something right, man. And lately, nothing is going that direction… Christine is the only one that stood by me, saw me in all these conditions… I have to get this relationship the best of me…

Stop shouting, Suna! I didn’t ask you to meet so you could shout your frustrations on me! she screamed.

I’m sorry, I… For her, listening to Suna talk, was like listening to a person who just two weeks ago, had found Jesus and all they could now talk about was their past mistakes and how they will change for the good. She found it repulsive.

Listen, Suna. You can say I just don’t understand, but you know how you sound like now? Like a freaking martyr. About ruined life, bad conditions, blah blah blah… When all you ever did was just have a fucking drink with you friends. We all have our occasional drink. So did you. So did I. So do I, as you can see. And now, all of a sudden, somebody comes and tells you you are an alcoholic because sometimes you want to decompress?

Helen, I doubt this is your first drink for today. Maybe you and me both have a drinking problem. We are too much alike. She knew where this conversation was going. And their relationship, too. And it pissed her off. Saint Christine came into his life and she took it upon herself to change him. A sober Sunali was not going to stick with Helen! Christine would make sure of that.

Don’t do this, don’t call me names that somebody else put in your head and your mouth. I am not an alcoholic! And if you want to wife her and need to act the puppy part for her to accept you, whatever! Do that. But don’t come up here with your new persona, preaching about what kind of life we should all live. Is that you or Christine saying, by the way? She took a gulp of her wine, finished it and made a gesture to the waiter for another glass. I know my own limit, Suna. I don’t go around punching people. And before knowing her, neither did you. Does that tell you something? Oh, and about that bullshit, that she is the only one that ever stood by you, you need to think a little harder about that.

Taken aback by her outrage, Sunali could only watch her have her second drink in less than an hour. Where is this al coming from, Helen? I take you don’t like Christine…

Suna, I don’t like her, that’s one thing. But you – you accepting all the side projects she has for you, molding you into a puppet of her choice, that annoys me even more. Her second glass of wine arrived to the table. The only moment of awkward silence was when the waiter arrived. Thank you, she said. And she took another gulp of her wine. Sunali looked at her, not knowing what to say or to do at this point. The green earrings were dancing at the same pace her head was moving. Why did they look familiar? His eyes were focused on her shiny earrings, his mind was trying to understand why was she so irritate about and his throat was yearning for a drink.

They are just like hers…

What are you talking about now, Suna?

Your earrings… They are just like Christine’s…

Helen blushed. Was it because of the wine? Or was it that she knew she got caught? Helen acted like she didn’t care and simply stormed out of the restaurant, leaving Sunali behind. For a short while, she thought he was going to follow her and have another talk. Where she would say she got tired of hearing her name over and over again. Even oven some stupid earrings… That she wore on purpose. She just wanted to look more like her, but not actually be confronted about it. She didn’t even know why she did it. Some subliminal bullshit that was supposed to be over his head, but somehow helpful. Now she fucked things up with Suna. Because of her big (tipsy) mouth. And he didn’t even follow her! Angry with herself, Helen took the bus back to her place. A little bit ashamed about the whole day, she took a window sit and thought of everything that happened. Her jealousy, her useless effort, her behavior… Was unforgivable. She did like the sober version of Suna. She did! But that version of him would not want her, that’s for sure. Christine would make sure of that. That bitch. What Helen wanted was for her to be his savior. After this, she was not even hoping to be in his life, anymore. So she came up with the only way to solve this problem: she was going to meet him at his apartment, to talk and try to fix this. If I screwed up this day, might as well go all the way.

*

Two hours later, Helen was still waiting on the front steps of the building. She didn’t want to disturb him or make him angry with her calls, so she just waited. If he was going to show up with Christine, that cunt, she would just do her best to get over it. Better to have half of him, than nothing at all. She put her earrings away, just in case.

Stumbling on his own feet, a visible intoxicated Sunali was coming home. “I never meant to cause you any sorrow/ I never meant to cause you any pain/ I only wanted one time to see you laughing/ I only wanted to see you/ Laughing in the purple rain/ Purple raaaaain…”. Helen recognized his voice and waited for him to get to the stairs. Suna, what the hell are you doing? Where have you been all this time? I’ve been… Have you – have you been drinking? The smell was there and you couldn’t ignore it. For the last couple of weeks, under Christine’s supervision, Sunali managed to control his urges. But that half sip of wine left in Helen’s glass tempted him too much. And the rest that followed, too. So I wanted to see, you hear, do you hear… Hell-en, do – you – hear – me? I wanted to taste, taste it i did! That freaking wine you had… And prove to myself or, or to you – or somebody, that I can hold it within, man. That I can control, you know? So tell me, baby, do I – do I look like I have been drinking? Helen made a gesture of waving her hand, to make the stench disappear. She was looking at him with confused affection. I’ve tasted your lips, Hell-en, he whispered in her ear, with his arm wrapped around her back. I tasted your – your lips… from the glass you had. The flush on her face, hearing him talk like that, made her ignore his cry for help. Let me taste your real lips… Just like last time. Suna pulled her closer to him and went for a kiss. Their lips touched briefly, when Suna snuck his tongue in her mouth. He gently pushed her inside the building, behind closed doors. Helen got excited at the idea of somebody coming down from their apartment, and catching them. But even more excited that they could carry this upstairs. She ran her fingers through his hair, as he let his fingers slip underneath her dress. Let me fuck you, baby… When she started moaning at his touch, he pushed his kisses even harder. The door pushed against his back, made him take a look. To whom he had to apologize for the disturbance. His now fully aware state of mind, met Christine’s eyes, who opened the door. A moment too long passed and nobody said anything. Christine was the first to speak: What the fuck is going on? She turned her back, shut the door and left. Until Helen came back to her senses, Suna ran after his girlfriend. She arranged her dress and hair, took a look around to see if somebody else saw them and went outside. She saw Sunali run after Christine. He caught up to her, forced an embrace, that Christine rejected. She started to cry and shout. He put his hands to his face and moved around nervously. Sunali tried again to hug her, begging something that Helen could not fully understand.

…so sorry, please… Don’t leave… It’s not her who I want, Christie… Helen couldn’t hear the rest clearly, but she didn’t need to, either. She was just as much to blame for this as he was. Maybe more. So, guilty, she decided to leave. The last thing she heard was Christine shouting at Suna: You fucking liar! Followed by a loud boom and the screeching sound of car tires.

Christine was hit by a car. Sunali, in shock, looked panicked at her dead body, lying on the street, surrounded by her own blood.

*

The blanket didn’t move an inch and still, Sunali recognized Christine’s voice. It was the same as the night she died in front of him. His heart pam-pam-pam, pam-pam-pam, couldn’t decide if it was excited for his love returning to him, as he asked. Or scared, just like that night. Christine appeared to him one more time in his apartment, the time Helen gave him shrooms. He had felt her, he knew her presence was there. And it was radiant and blissful. He wept tears of joy seeing her again, in his vivid hallucinations, smiling at him. But soon, her smile changed. Just as suddenly, as her own appearance. Her smile became a shadow and the shadow was teasing him, frightening him. Just like now.

You fucking liar… Mister Sunali, you fucking – LIAR! Like a bandage over a wound, Sunali yanked the blanket away from his face. Chocking on his own dry mouth, he looked around the room like a maniac, searching for something that kept hiding from him. Except for the bloody steps on the floor and the furniture, nothing else was there. He sat in the same corner the shadow appeared earlier, pulled his knees to his chest and refused to shut an eye for the next few hours. Or for as long as he could help it.

The contract – Chapter twelve