One quick post for the road: I think I overstayed my welcome here. Maybe it's time for a change of scenery. I'll write this quick and then I'm outta here.
Liam came back today. Was it this morning? I have no clue. I keep picturing the scene over and over.
He came into the ktichen and looked into the little room where Sven sleeps. Only I was there with him. Oh, and Pieter too. Three spent lovers exhausted on a pile. We looked like a baroque painting, three naked bodies in an erotic pose. I would call the painting: Passion Spent; or The Fall From Grace; or The Taking of the Maid.
Anyway, I had felt myself starting to doze off. The apartment door opened and slammed shut. Liam said something in Dutch from the kitchen. None of us moved. I turned my head towards the light.
Liam stood in the doorway of the little room and looked in at the three of us for a moment. No expression on his face. Not a word. Nothing. He turned away. I heard the door open and slam so that the walls shook.
“He’s looking for you,” Sven said.
“Oh fuck,” I said.
“I’m going back to bed,” Pieter said, crawled over the two of us and left.
I sat up and looked at Sven.
“Good night, Jess.” He rolled over on his side away from me.
I got up and walked up the back steps. I was sore now from all this fucking and sucking and rubbing. I opened the door to Liam’s room and turned on the light. He wasn’t there. I grabbed some of my clean clothes, went into the shower and came back to his room. He still wasn’t there. I tried to sleep but kept tossing and turning. I didn’t know if I should feel guilty or not. Some unspoken possession was going on here but I didn’t know if Liam’s attentions were enough to keep me here as an exclusive lover or not. He certainly did what he wanted to, coming and going, doing God-knows-what.
I stayed in the room for much of the day. I had one bottle of wine left. I drank that during the day and found some old bread to eat. No one came. It was still cold in here.
I pulled on my jeans and the sweater that I had worn on the trip here. On the table was the crumpled slip of paper with Gabi’s number on it. Oh shit! I was supposed to meet them for breakfast! What time was it? I switched on the computer. Shit. It was 7pm.
A new e-mail from Randy was in my inbox:
Where are you? I’m here with your mother and we are going to bring you home. You have a family to take care of and it’s time you take responsibility for your actions. Your mother and your daughter need you. Stop acting like a child. You just have to respect my decisions. We’re all adult here. I’m going to find you.
I'm outta here.