Arrhythmia (27 page)

Chapter 31

My face was blotchy and my eyes red when I arrived at work the next morning. Sandra reacted to my appearance with horror.

“Lena, you look terrible! Are you not feeling well?” she asked, concerned, as soon as I entered the kitchen.

“I didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” I muttered evasively and turned to my friend Hans.

“Do you want the name of the chaplain after all?”

Oh, so she thought the attack was the reason for my sleepless night. That was a good thing. I let her believe it, and I even took down the number she eagerly provided.

I certainly had no intention of calling it, but at least it distracted Sandra from my actual problem.

My phone was still turned off, since I didn’t want to hear from Desiderio. We would inevitably encounter each other eventually, but I wanted to put that off for as long as possible. It was my good fortune that he wasn’t on duty until later that day, which meant that the start of his shift and the end of mine overlapped by just fifteen minutes. I decided to find an excuse to leave early. I would make Sandra believe that I was having some sort of breakdown so I could slip out and avoid running into Desiderio.

I admit I was not especially proud of my plan, but I simply had no idea how to face him.

I had tried all night long to figure out a way of dealing with the situation. I had told myself that I should just forget the SOB. That he’d been no more than a fling.

Only that wasn’t true.

He meant a lot to me, no matter how much I tried to fool myself. I had opened up to him, had trusted him—something I would never have done with a one-night stand. I had developed feelings for him.

Strong feelings.

Love.

Because I could feel my eyes filling up with tears again, I took a deep breath and pulled myself together before Sandra noticed.

I found I was surprisingly successful at presenting a cool facade while pain and disappointment were raging inside me.

I threw myself into my work like a crazy woman to distract myself from the chaos of my emotions. Reinmann seemed a little suspicious of my excessive eagerness, but otherwise all went well.

I looked at the clock in treatment room two.

I had twenty minutes left before I had to disappear.

Reinmann was going to remove some glass splinters from a patient’s hand, and I was taking care of all the routine preparations before bringing the patient inside.

As I was drawing the local anesthetic into the syringe, I mentally went through the list of necessary instruments. Scalpel, tweezers, scissors . . . Everything was there. I was getting out a fresh needle to place on the syringe when the door opened.

Expecting that it was Reinmann arriving to get on my nerves with his habitual impatience, I said, “I’m almost done, Doctor.”

“Glad to hear it, darling.”

Horrified, I turned around and stared at Desiderio’s impertinent grin.

His casual demeanor set my teeth on edge.

“What are you doing here?” I asked in shock.

“I came in a little early to see you. I called you this morning, but your phone was turned off.” He looked at me with some irritation. “What’s the matter?”

He wanted to know what the matter was?

You tore my heart out, that’s what!

“Lena! What’s going on?” he wanted to know and took a step toward me.

“Just leave me alone!” I screamed and moved away.

Surprised, Desiderio stopped. “For God’s sake, what’s happened?”

Rage and pain were pressing against my chest and making it difficult to breathe. His concerned expression was almost impossible to bear.

“Just go away,” I finally said, my voice shaking. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Why on earth not? What did I do?”

I was in no condition to answer him and only gave him a frosty look.

Unable to cope with the situation, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, Lena. Talk to me! Has Steffi been spouting her crap again? Believe me, whatever it is, she’s lying.”

I let out such a disdainful grumble that Desiderio thought his assumption was right.

“Oh God, what did she tell you now? And you believe her? Come now, give me a break.” He came closer again. “Why do you believe that stupid bitch and not me? I’m very hurt that you still won’t trust me.”

He was hurt? This damn son of a bitch was actually trying to turn this on me?

This just couldn’t be true!

By now, I had moved so far away from him that my back was against the wall. I was trapped.

“Don’t you dare come closer,” I blurted and raised the needle threateningly.

“Seriously, now?” He remained standing directly in front of me with his arms crossed. “You’d rather threaten me with a hypodermic needle than talk to me?”

I resolutely removed the plastic top of the needle and primed my weapon.

“I don’t believe this,” he said, shaking his head and looking at me pensively. “Please tell me what I’m supposed to have done so that I can confront Steffi and set things straight.”

“This has nothing to do with Steffi,” I hissed and lowered my hand with the needle.

“What then? Jesus, Lena! Talk to me!”

“So you can tell me more lies?” I asked and felt a stray tear run down my cheek.

Desiderio was completely bewildered. “My God, why won’t you tell me what I am supposed to have done?”

I was reduced to grinding my teeth and being stubbornly silent, so he took one last step toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I screeched.

“Lena, calm down.” He extended his hand slowly toward me.

“I said don’t touch me!” I repeated and anxiously pressed my body against the wall. “Never again!”

“You must . . . Ouch! Have you gone crazy?”

You should never corner an injured animal and try to touch it. Desiderio learned this lesson swiftly, the needle now stuck in his arm.

It looked far more dramatic than it really was, because the needle was unused and sterile and would go no farther than the muscle, where it could do no damage.

Still, he felt the prick, and that was good because this little bit of pain made Desiderio automatically step back. That allowed me to make my escape.

I rushed past him into the hallway. My destination was the locker room. On the way, I almost ran over the chief physician, but I hardly took note of that.

Finally, I was able to slam the door behind me. I locked it with clammy hands and tried to regain control of myself.

But that wasn’t so easy.

I was angry and sad at the same time. I quietly cried while I pounded on a stack of fresh towels.

Why hadn’t I just confronted him about what I had seen?

Because I was still a giant coward and had been afraid. I was less afraid of the confrontation itself than of the possibility that I would once again blindly believe his explanations. That he would once again allay my suspicions and bewitch me until I again succumbed to his embrace.

No, I would not be strong enough to resist him for very long. Everything within me longed for him. My body practically cried out to go to him and let myself get lost in the ocean of his eyes. Even though he had hurt me so badly, I missed him, and that made me angry too. I was more upset with myself than with Desiderio because, after all, I had been the one to give in to temptation—despite the warning voice in my head.

Someone knocked on the door. I immediately froze and listened.

“Lena? Are you in there?” Sandra’s muffled voice came through the door.

I hesitated briefly but finally got a grip on myself since there was no point in denying my presence. “Yes,” I called out, my voice sounding strangled.

“Baumer asked me to see if you’re all right. Do you feel OK?”

OK? I felt like hell!

“No,” I answered with a strained voice. “I’m feeling pretty . . . bad. No idea what might be wrong.”

Sandra’s voice sounded as though she knew exactly what was wrong with me. She was attributing it to my trauma. “Yes, get changed quickly and go home. The late shift starts soon, and I can manage by myself until the others get here.”

Although it was actually no longer necessary since I had pulled myself together, I gratefully accepted her offer. All I wanted to do now was go home. Besides, it was quite possible that Desiderio had recovered from his surprise and slight injury and would come try to talk again. At that moment, I was in no condition to face him. I just hoped I had a scalpel in my hand the next time I saw him.

“Is Desiderio still there?” I cautiously asked.

“DiCastello? No, I think he went to get changed. Do you want me to get him?”

“No!”

For the love of God!

Because of the confused silence on the other side of the door, I added hastily, “No, I’ll just stop by the doctors’ lounge.”

“OK. And promise me that you’ll call in sick tomorrow if you don’t feel better by this evening.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Still, you don’t have to be embarrassed about it. Well, I’ve got to go. Get some rest. See you later!”

I was truly ashamed for using Sandra’s sympathy like that, but I really was in no shape to work.

I quickly got changed and, with my eyes lowered, I hurried out the back door so that no one would see my tearstained face.

My cell phone stayed off. To be on the safe side, I pulled out the plug of my landline as well, just in case Desiderio got the idea of calling on it.

Next, I wrapped myself in a wool blanket, curled up on my couch in a state of utter depression, and stared at the black TV screen. The smooth screen reflected a blurry image of my face, frozen and expressionless. I had the appearance of a gravely ill person.

And that was exactly how I felt.

Desiderio had made me sick, destroyed me.

Everything around me was gray and desolate. Nothing made sense.

I was convinced I would never be happy again and accepted that notion with numb composure.

I felt all alone in the world. Loneliness covered me like a chill and made me shiver.

I was alone and would always be alone, because no one would ever again complete me the way he had.

Everything about him had felt so right. He had protected me and cared for me, even if only for a few days. I had never been happier than by his side.

I missed him.

And I hated him at the same time.

It had taken me years to let any man really get close to me. And just when I had finally trusted one, he had stabbed the knife of betrayal in my breast.

My body went into a spasm, and I broke into tears of despair until I fell asleep from exhaustion.

I awoke when Vera loudly entered my apartment.

“Lena?”

I held up my arm and gave her a weak wave in response.

“Ah! Look, I’ve brought you something to eat.” She came over to me and placed a large paper bag on the coffee table. “Chinese. Fried noodles and baked bananas. You like those, don’t you?”

Under normal circumstances I did, but on that day, the smell of fried food brought on a wave of intense nausea.

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered and hid my nose under the blanket.

Vera made a hurt face. “And I went and got it especially for you.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry. You really are sweet, but right now I’m just feeling super sick.”

“Oh.” She grabbed the bag and took it to the kitchen before an accident could happen. She returned and sat down next to me. “How are you doing?”

Stupid question. What does it look like? I’m just peachy; anyone could see that!

“OK,” Vera sighed after seeing my face. “It’s all right. If you feel anything like how you look, you’re miserable.”

“Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome. Did you at least talk to him?”

“No.”

“You didn’t see him at work?”

“Yes, I did.”

“But you didn’t talk to him. So what did you do?”

I thought of the hypodermic needle in his arm and made a tortured face. Vera furrowed her brow.

“You didn’t beat him up, did you?”

I shook my head indignantly. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

That was true. I had not hit him. Only jabbed him with a needle. And it was my job to jab people every day, after all.

“If you didn’t talk to him and you didn’t beat him up, then I assume you ignored him and I hope he noticed that. What did he have to say about that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I mumbled.

“Oh yes, it does.”

I sat up forcefully. “No, it doesn’t! Because I don’t even want to know what he has to say about it. He would just wrap me up in his charm and turn me into a helpless puppet! And you’re not going to talk to him either!”

She skeptically raised her eyebrows. “But it would be—”

“No!” I interrupted her. “Promise me you won’t talk to him!”

She scowled as she crossed her arms and pouted. “That’s not right.”

I rubbed my tired eyes. “Maybe not. But if anyone talks to him, then it’ll be me. I’m just not up to it right now. Do you understand?”

No, she didn’t understand. However, after a while, she did nod.

“And now, can we please drop the subject?” I asked and fell back onto the couch. “I can’t think about anything else, and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Sure. Do you want me to spend the night here again?”

“No, you really don’t need to,” I said, even though I would have liked to have her stay to help assuage the loneliness in my soul a little. But I felt guilty because I didn’t want her to neglect her fiancé on my account.

Vera read my mind immediately, of course. “Sebastian isn’t coming back until tomorrow,” she explained without being asked.

That took care of that, and Vera spent the night with me.

Chapter 32

The next morning, I nervously wriggled in my chair in the nurses’ kitchen and kept looking at the clock. Sandra looked at me with suspicion because she didn’t quite know what to make of my behavior. She probably feared that a nervous breakdown was imminent, while my only fear was meeting Desiderio.

I had to be sure to duck out of the ER for a while as soon as the doctors finished their rounds and conferences. Then, unable to locate me, he would undoubtedly head home, and I would be able to focus on my job.

When the moment arrived, I told Sandra that I was going to get something from the kiosk and ardently hoped that she wouldn’t decide to accompany me.

Fortunately, she wasn’t hungry, and I was able to escape from the ER by myself.

Of course, the kiosk wasn’t my only destination. After going there, I would casually drop in on Eva in radiology and let her engage me in a conversation until it was safe for me to return to the ER.

But I didn’t have a chance to implement my plan.

The residents’ radiology consult must have taken an unusually long time that day because, on my way to the radiology building to see Eva, I ran directly into Desiderio. We stood in the hallway and looked at each other silently.

Damn it all! What was I supposed to do now?

Just run away?

No, that would be embarrassing.

I crossed my arms and looked at him dismissively until he spoke.

“Now will you tell me what is the matter?” he asked softly.

I noticed that he looked extremely tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes, and his face was not as smooth as usual. The night nurse had told me that their shift had been quiet, so it wasn’t work that had kept him up.

Had he spent the night with that bimbo?

Or had he been concerned about me?

Since I hadn’t answered, he inhaled noisily and continued. “I honestly have no idea what I am supposed to have done to make you so angry with me. Yesterday you said that I would just continue to tell you lies. Lena, I have never lied to you. Not one time. I swear to you.” I bit my lip and was about to turn away from him, but he took my arm. “No, listen to me. I want to know what happened. God, I don’t want to lose you!”

There was a desperate entreaty in his eyes that blurred my vision. And I was already beginning to feel the first signs of regret in myself.

But no, I wasn’t the villain here! He was. He had cheated on me and invited a mistress to his home!

The image of how she had tousled his thick hair appeared before me and chased away the ominous veil of my re-enslavement to my feelings for this man.

I firmly shook off his hand and proudly raised my chin.

“You don’t want to lose me? Well, Desiderio, you already have lost me.”

With my head held up high, I stalked away. When I reached the end of the hallway, I couldn’t help but look at him one last time, before I turned the corner.

Desiderio was still standing in the same spot, gazing distractedly into the distance. He looked shocked, and this immediately made me feel regretful.

Let it go, Lena!

He had broken my heart, and I was feeling pangs of a guilty conscience because I refused to continue to be his bed bunny?

Oh no, this is not the plan!

But why did he look so damn sad?

I spent the entire weekend on the couch. I felt exhausted and unmotivated. I didn’t even have the energy for a short shower.

My cell phone and house phone remained turned off.

Nothing happened on Saturday except a brief visit from Vera.

Sunday was looking the same.

Unwashed, I stagnated on the couch, watching idiotic soap operas and almost dying of longing.

I missed Desiderio so much that it felt like a piece of myself had gone missing.

I hadn’t felt this lost even after Marek and I broke up. At the time, I’d been disappointed beyond all measure. My trust in mankind had been shattered to the core, yet this deep emptiness that was slowly enveloping me now was far worse.

How was I to continue living as only half a person?

No, suicide was not an option for me. It was much more likely my anguish would one day cause me to stop breathing because my body could no longer bear it.

The doorbell rang and ripped me from my unhappy thoughts.

Who was that?

Was it Desiderio? Had he come to try to talk to me again?

I jumped up and started walking in a circle, borderline hysterical.

Someone was knocking on the door loudly.

“Lena? It’s me, Frank.”

Oh my God.

Completely stumped, I started chewing maniacally on the inside of my cheek.

Why is he here?

“Come on, I know you’re in there! Let me in. I want to talk to you.”

Talk? About what? About us?

I slowly walked over to the door and squinted through the peephole. There were no roses in sight. Just Frank, waiting patiently to be let in.

I took a deep breath and opened up for him.

“Hi,” he said casually.

“Hello.”

“You look awful.”

“Thanks. So do you, by the way.”

It was true. He looked pale and exhausted. Still, he smiled softly.

“May I come in?”

I nodded and stepped out of the way. Without paying too much attention to him, I closed the door and returned directly to my couch. Frank sat down at an appropriate distance in an empty armchair. I noticed that he was playing incessantly with a loose thread on the hem of his jacket. He was visibly nervous, and I was getting impatient because I wanted to know what he wanted to say.

“Sorry, but I don’t quite know where to start,” he finally said helplessly.

“No problem; I’m no good at these things myself.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that.”

He laughed cautiously and, for the first time in four days, made the corners of my mouth reach toward a smile. It probably looked like a tormented grimace, but it did make me feel better somehow.

“So here goes,” he began again. “So, I’m here because I—phew—I just wanted to talk to you again. Lena, I got a little carried away. No, let me finish! You know, I think my feelings for you were something like a panic reaction after Birgit left me. I have no other explanation. I mean, we’ve been friends for more than a decade, and then suddenly I get ideas like that? Yeah, well, I dunno. At any rate, I’ve been listening to my inner voice, and I’ve realized that there is nothing I value more than your friendship. You have no romantic feelings for me and that’s fine. Really. If we had become a couple, it might ultimately have ruined our friendship. And I know that’s not worth it. Lena, I’ll tell you honestly, I’m still a little bit in love with you, but I’ll get over that. I know I will.”

I fidgeted with my blanket and thought.

Did his words make any sense? Was it possible for someone to feel this way? Or was he lying to me to save our friendship?

I gave him a skeptical look. He seemed genuine and honest. And yet I could not make out his intentions. I knew I could never dismiss my feelings for Desiderio as a mere phase.

But that was probably where the difference lay: Frank was in love, and I was obsessed.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know, Frank. It sounds a little too simple. I would very much like to believe you, but it’s hard to imagine that it’s that easy for you.”

“I didn’t say it was easy,” he said.

True, he didn’t.

“I have no idea how to behave toward you,” I admitted.

He smiled at me lovingly. “Lena, please do me a favor and just be yourself. That’s the only thing that will help me now. Be like you always are, help me redecorate my hallway, and be happy.”

Be happy . . . Well, it’s a little late for that.

Frank immediately noticed the change in my expression. He got up and sat next to me and placed his arm around my shoulders a little shyly. I leaned against him and fought back the tears again.

“Do you promise me you’ll be happy?” he asked.

I answered with a sniffle.

“Listen,” Frank said with determination, “Vera told me everything. You have to talk to the doctor, got it? I know I never had nice things to say about him, but he’s actually very likable. And one thing I can say with certainty: the dude feels a lot for you. That’s why I was so jealous.”

The sniffle grew into a stifled sob.

What was I doing? I was wrapped in the arms of a guy whose heart I had broken and crying to him about another man? I really was a special kind of selfish!

And yet I couldn’t help myself. His words had thrown me back into the abyss.

Desiderio felt a lot for me?

What did he feel? The triumph of having screwed me at last?

Frank caressed my forearm as I cried hot, bitter tears into his jacket.

At some point, my sobbing fit began to die down. There was an occasional hiccup, but my tears had dried long ago.

Frank gently pushed me away and looked at me seriously. “When was the last time you ate something? Something real, I mean.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I really didn’t know.

“All right, then we’ll go to Scarlett now and have a bite to eat.”

I opened my eyes wide in horror. I was supposed to leave my couch?

“No buts!” he said. “You’re coming with me if I have to drag you there by your hair! Go on. Get ready. I’ll wait here.” He looked me over briefly. “You should shower.”

His words were embarrassing. But effective!

I disappeared into the bathroom like greased lightning.

A short time later, we were sitting across from each other, each with a giant hamburger in front of us.

I felt a little strange, as though this was my first outing after a severe illness. Somehow that was true, actually.

It was easy to fulfill Frank’s request that I act normal around him. Most of the time it was as if nothing had even happened. We had a lively conversation about mostly trivial things, and I was able to laugh a little, even though I would never have thought it possible. Only . . . Every once in a while I thought I could see a painful light in his eyes when he looked at me. But these moments were gone as soon as they had come so that, later on, I wasn’t sure if I’d just imagined them.

Scarlett was very busy, reminding me that life outside my apartment was merrily going on. It was fall-like outside, with a cold and wet wind and a cloudy sky, and tons of people were crowding into the café to warm themselves after a Sunday walk through town. We had managed to find a small table near the door—not a popular spot because, every time the door opened, a frosty breeze blew past us.

Still, I enjoyed my little outing with Frank. The constant murmur of the other patrons somehow soothed me, and it felt good to pretend that everything was just fine. Also, I had been close to starving to death without noticing.

I crossed my hands with satisfaction across my full stomach and listened to Frank’s opinion on a new industrial zone in town.

“I have it on good authority that two large stores have made inquiries about a construction permit but the wisenheimers in city hall don’t want any retail businesses there. What do they want? Do they think some sort of important manufacturer is going to build here when there isn’t even an autobahn nearby?”

I liked the fact that Frank could get upset about such things. “You should run for a seat on the city council next year,” I suggested with a chuckle.

“You know what? That’s exactly what I’m going to do!” He clapped his hands. “Then I’ll kick those old fools’ asses!”

“Can I run your election campaign?”

“I’d love that.”

I giggled wildly. “Oh yes. We’ll make flyers and little buttons with your face on them. And you’ll need a slogan. How about: No power to old farts!”

He nodded in agreement. “That doesn’t sound half bad.”

As I was trying to come up with another slogan, Frank was distracted by some movement behind me.

“Your doc is here,” he said quietly.

The blood immediately drained from my face. “What?”

“Stay calm, Lena. He’s on his way out the door, and he hasn’t seen us yet.”

I held on to the tabletop with all my might to avoid the temptation to turn around.

“Do you want to talk to him?” asked Frank.

“I can’t,” I whispered hoarsely.

The horror on my face seemed to convince him. “OK.”

He pretended to scratch his head and thus hid his face. I felt the cold when the door opened, followed by the pleasant warmth when it closed again.

I breathed a sigh of relief and automatically looked out the window.

There he was.

Desiderio was walking across the parking lot with two men I didn’t recognize. He was wearing a knee-length coat, which made his silhouette fit the surroundings perfectly. His hands were buried in his pockets, and he’d lowered his head to protect his face from the bitter wind. His pitch-black hair was swirling around and, even at this distance, I could make out his fine features. His appearance shocked me deeply.

He looked so unhappy.

I fought the urge just to run to him and take him into my arms.

By now, the three men had reached their car.

Desiderio was opening the passenger door to get in. Suddenly, he raised his head and looked directly at me as if he knew that I was sitting there, watching him.

My heart stopped.

I was incapable of avoiding his gaze.

His expression remained flat. I couldn’t say what he was thinking or feeling at that moment, just as I couldn’t say how long we stared at each other. It seemed to me that time stood still. The only sign that this wasn’t merely a sad photograph was his hair blowing in the wind.

One of his buddies must have complained, because Desiderio suddenly looked away, said something to the men already seated in the car, and got in without looking back.

The car sped away and I sank feebly against the back of my chair.

Frank studied me empathetically. “He’s not well,” he commented.

“No,” I answered weakly and pushed the saltshaker back and forth.

“And neither are you.”