Breathe (19 page)

‘
There is a chef?’ I asked astonished. I had just assumed that Anna made the food she brought me.

He just laughed at me, shaking his head.
‘Anna told me you were here all the time. I didn’t take her literally. Come into the back garden when you’re ready.’

And then he left me, and I hurried down the hall and up the stairs to my room.
I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror. My hair was all over the place, and I did have paint both in my hair and face. The only way I could salvage this was in the shower. I was anxious to get back to him and spend the little time we had together, but I wasn’t about to go back downstairs like a scarecrow. So I took the time to wash my hair and scrub all the paint stains off. I decided on a blue summer dress, and applied the basic makeup before I went downstairs. It had taken twenty minutes, but it was worth it when I saw the look on his face as I came down the stairs. He was waiting for me on the last step, his eyes locked on me as I descended.

‘
I want to turn you around and take you back to your room,’ he whispered in my ear as I reached him.

‘
This isn’t ok?’ I asked with fake innocent, looking down on my dress. ‘Cause I could go change.’

I took a step back, but he grabbed my hand to stop me.
‘Don’t be stupid. I love your dress. I just love to see you out of it too.’

‘
Well, that could be arranged,’ I smiled, as he pulled on my arm until I was pressed against him.

His lips met mine, and I felt his hand trail my back, and pushed me closer.
It felt right being in his arms. Then my stomach chose to make the loudest sound broadcasting another need. I gasped for air as he let go of me.

‘
I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ambush you like that,’ he said, trying to catch his own breath. ‘The food is ready, we should go eat.’

Then he
grabbed my hand and went the opposite way of what I had in mind.
Screw the food,
I thought. If he only had a little time, I knew a better way to spend it. Who needed food anyway? My stomach chose to give another hint, and I had to admit to myself; I was hungry.

I’ve only seen the garden from
my bedroom view and the study, and got amazed by the sweet smell of flowers that surrounded the air. Beds of colours were planted in front of huge maples and willow trees surrounding the garden. The willow trees gave the place a sense of mystic. This was an absolute private place, with no neighbour house in view and no transparency from the streets.

Christopher was right about the weather, it was a beautiful summer day.
It felt nice as the sun hit my face, and I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, savouring the moment. Christopher dragged my hand to a nearby patio, with a round table plated for two. My mouth watered at the sights of croissants, sandwiches and fruit.

We were enjoying each
other’s company and the tasty croissants, when Christopher looked over my shoulder with a frown on his face. I turn automatically and see Anna standing hesitant in the doorway, ten feet behind us.

‘
Excuse me for just a moment, Sara,’ he said as he got up and walked toward her.

‘
My apologizes, sir. I just wanted you to know that I’m back,’ I heard Anna say as he neared her. Her voice sounded tired, resigned, and not the usual professional voice I had grown accustom to. I turn back around, trying to give them their privacy. Since he walked to her instead of gesturing her to the table, I guessed they were talking about something that didn’t concern me. It only made me curious.

‘
How is she?’ I heard Christopher ask in a low tone.

‘
I’m not sure, sir. I’ve never seen her like this. Visiting her mother should do her good, I’m sure of it.’

‘
I hope your right, Anna. Did you arrange the flight to Nice?’

‘
I’m sorry, sir, but the six o’clock flight was fully booked. I was able get a common seat on the four o’clock.’

‘
That means I have to leave in an hour.’

‘
Yes, sir. I have already arranged that with Charles. Is there anything else I can do for you before you leave?’

‘
Yes. Pack a new suitcase for me, and make sure a suit is ready at my hotel room.’

‘
Certainly, sir,’ she said, and then I heard Christopher’s steps as he returned.

I wa
nted to ask him about Julia, if there was something wrong with her. But apparently, that was not my concern. He kissed me on the head as he passed me.

‘
Now, where were we?’ he asked, taking a sip at his tea.

‘
Are you leaving already?’ I asked, ignoring his question.

‘
Oh, you heard that? Yes, unfortunately. That means I have to postpone the plans I had for you this afternoon.’

‘
Oh, really? And what plans would that be?’ I asked innocent.     

‘
I can tell you this much, it didn’t include your dress,’ he grinned.

I blushed and thought about his look when I came down the stairs.
Then I thought about his conversation with Anna. The mood change was enough to give me whiplash. It was like he was trying too hard to hide from me that something was wrong. I didn’t want to pry. But I didn’t like to be kept in the dark either. I didn’t like secrets, which is kind of ironic, since my whole existence is a secret. Christopher started to tell me more about Nice, continuing the conversation from before Anna interrupted him. I was only half listening, my mind drifted to Julia, Anna, my father and Sandra; too many secrets. And I had kept something from Alice. I hadn’t told her where I was or who I was with. I knew she was disappointed in me for that. Like I didn’t trust her. But I did. She was my best friend, and I was immensely grateful to have her in my life. But I couldn’t share everything with her regardless. I hadn’t shared my story about my father because she knew who he was, I knew she had met him. And the fact that she had met him and I hadn’t was too painful to talk about. I didn’t tell Alice about Erik either, because that would make her look at me differently. Like I was weak, or a victim that should have fought back. I should have fought back. Or I should have tried to be better. Either way, I didn’t want to have my friend look at me with pity. Leaving Norway gave me a clean slate. Maybe this was a mistake I would regret too. After all, I didn’t fit in his world. I could never be an official part of Christopher’s life. And that meant that I had to keep secrets. I wasn’t comfortable with that. But looking at the man in front of me, I knew I couldn’t walk away. I had no way to resist him, my body craved him just by looking at him.

We stayed in the garden until Anna came back and told him it was time to go. He took my hand as we entered the house, and we walked together to the entrance on the other side. Anna was waiting by the door, with a small bag in her hand.

‘Thank you, Anna,’ Christopher said as he took the bag from her. ‘I will call you later. Can we please have some privacy?’

Anna went down
the hall and into another room. Christopher dropped the bag on the floor as soon as she closed the door, and put his arms around me, pushing me closer. His lips lay soft in my forehead, and I closed my eyes and inhaled the scent of him. I didn’t want him to leave. I locked my own arms behind him and raised my chin to look into his eyes.

‘
It’s just one more night,’ he whispered, holding my gaze.

‘
I know,’ I whispered back.

‘
Then why is it so difficult to let go of you?’ he asked in the same low voice.

‘
Because it’s a whole night,’ I said, trying to smile.

Then he gave me a light kiss on the lips and let go. I had no other choice than to let my arms falter as well, and they fell limbed to my sides. He grabbed his bag, and with no other words he was out the door. I leaned against the doorframe and watched him enter the black Mercedes. Charles nodded to me as he closed Christopher
’s door, and seated himself at the front. The car was out of sight before it reached the gate, covered by heavy garden trees along the driveway.

I went to my room and changed back to my work clothes, determent to stay busy the rest of the day. It was past midnight when I finally caved and went to bed. I started the next day in the same routine as the other days, and stayed in the study all morning. Anna came in with lunch and a message from Christopher. I didn’t understand why he didn’t call me himself.

‘
Mr Petrelli asked me to tell you that he won’t be getting back today, and that he will call you later to explain.’ She placed a tray with chicken sandwich and orange juice and left the room before I could gather myself enough to thank her.

I had to sit down. My mind was
tuned in on the fact that I would see him soon. Now I had to readjust, and my mind didn’t want to cooperate. I was already looking forward to see him tonight, it was suppose to be a sure thing. I didn’t know if I could handle waiting any longer. If he wasn’t coming today, when was he coming? When will he call? Would he really call? I was still a little annoyed that he hadn’t called me earlier. Was he still in Nice? I couldn’t concentrate more on the picture, instead I cleaned my brushes with one eye on the phone. I carried the tray with food to my bedroom, and nibbled tiny bits of the sandwich whilst sitting on the bed. I couldn’t eat. My eyes were focused on the phone. It hadn’t made a single sound, but that didn’t stop me from checking for messages seven times the next half hour. I gave up the sandwich and put it on my nightstand, and lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling, debating to call him myself. The phone was held firmly on my chest, silent and hard. I must have fallen a sleep, because when the sound finally came, I couldn’t locate it. It stopped ringing before I realised it had fallen down on the floor. The room was darker, the sunlight was already disappearing behind the trees.

I looked a
t the display, seeing the words
two missed call
s. I remove the screen lock and hit the call back button, longing to hear his voice, longing for him to tell me that he is on his way. He didn’t of course. In stead he apologized in a stony voice that he had to travel to New York, and that he didn’t know how long it would take. I didn’t want to ask, but I had to know. So I asked him if it was because of Julia, if he was going to meet her. He denied it, but it seemed too much of a coincident. I was feeling jealous of his wife. Again. Stupid, but still, I did.

His voice became warmer as he asked how the painting was going, and I lay back on the bed while we talked about it
and how I spent my days. I hadn’t told him what phrase I had chosen as a theme for the painting, I wanted to see his face when he read it, to see if he took the reference. He told me about the award ceremony, and asked if I had seen it on television. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me, I hadn’t watched TV since I got here. But I regretted it now. I wouldn’t have minded seeing him in a tux on stage with the other celebrities. Or maybe I would. Maybe seeing him in that environment would finally convince me that I was fighting a lost cause. Someone like him wasn’t meant to be with someone like me. I should get out before it was too late. In stead I held the phone closer, enjoying his voice and words. It was already too late. I just wished he were heading home instead of flying across the Atlantic.

Three days came and went without a word from Christopher. Not even a text. I had texted him the second day and asked how he was, but no answer. I saw Anna when she brought me food, but didn’t ask her if she had heard from him. The fourth day, I started packing. I had texted Christopher about the painting being finished, and I was half expecting him to call me as soon as he read it. But that was yesterday morning, and still no word. And now I was packing. It didn’t make sense to hang around when my assignment was done. My suitcase was standing ready in the bedroom, and I was in the study packing away my brushes when Anna stopped by. Or, I assumed it was Anna when I saw her in my peripheral vision. But it wasn’t like her to linger in the doorway, so I turned towards the figure and saw that it wasn’t Anna at all. Not by a long shot. I was staring into the coldest eyes I could imagine. Maybe I did imagine it, cause two seconds later, the figure was gone. I stood frozen, not sure what to do. Then my phone rang. I jumped to get it, and was relived by the name on the display.

‘
Chris!’ I said as I exhaled. I could hear my own desperation and relief.

‘
Sara, hey,’ he said, and his voice made my shoulder relax and the grip on the phone loosened a bit. ‘How are you?’ he continued conversationally, a phrase I could never quite get a grip on, because the Englishmen asked it like a question that sometimes didn’t require a literal response. I usually answer ‘Fine, how are you?’ but I didn’t care to waste the time now. I wasn’t fine, and I didn’t want to elaborate. I could answer him that I was scared shit, that I was close to a panic attack, that I was terrified of his wife, who I think just gave me
the evil eye
. Or I could say that I was missing him, and that I was disappointed that I hadn’t heard from him in four days. Neither response was suited for a phone conversation. In stead I just whispered in the phone.