With past and present regret
It was raining again. This time the weather forecast wasn't as optimistic. Even the sun needed a day off.
I was sitting on the windowsill, wondering if our flight would be canceled. Although, who was I kidding? All I thought about was the utter stupidity I had displayed the night before. It was strange how I even woke up so early after the amount of alcohol I had consumed. My head barely pulsed, but my hands trembled from the cold, even under the warm blanket, and I still felt awful, while my body ached with pain. Long ago, about five years back, I had sat on the windowsill, watching the rain. And then it reflected my mood just as well. Tears flowed like a river. That was when I first doubted whether I could control them. It felt as if my entire world was crumbling, and there was nothing I could do about it.
From my window in my parents' apartment, I could see the football field where teams practiced every day. Once, they noticed that I was watching them. One of the guys even started hitting on me, which really pleased Ella. Almost at the beginning of the eleventh grade, when I needed support more than ever, I agreed to a relationship. They were my first, but for me, he was the most important person.
Guess what this person did in the first month of my departure to Milan? He shamelessly cheated. I was upset that I found out about it a year later, when such betrayals had multiplied tenfold and it was simply impossible to hide it anymore. For some time after that, I didn't even cry. It seemed I had exhausted my limit of tears for this life. Something inside me still tried to find excuses, and my head turned into a labyrinth of thoughts, sharp corners, and memories. I felt cold, almost the same as now. I wrapped myself in blankets. Sometimes I had a fever, and it felt like the shadows on the walls were dancing the waltz. Nonsense, of course, but back then, I believed even in those hallucinations. I dreamed strange dreams with black-and-white plots that would never come true, yet I was still scared. And then I drew a lesson from trust. Trust must be dug up and earned. You can do anything, move mountains, bring down the sky, or drain the sea, but you will not reach my heart. You won’t reach it until I allow you to.
Chills ran down my body from those memories. I trembled, whether from the cold or from feelings.
The same thoughts churned in my head over and over.
“Wasn't it enough for you?”
“Didn't you get what you wanted?”
“Why, Adeline, why?”
But I didn't know why. I didn't even want to know. I wanted to go home, to Louis, to Damiano, who would make me coffee and listen to my ramblings. To white walls through which the wind sometimes roamed, and to my books.
— You can't go through the main entrance, — Nick declared decisively. — We’ll slip there: the stairs are wet.
— Then we'll go through the mud, — Sarah mumbled and dragged the suitcases to the garden exit. I followed my friend. It was raining like from a bucket, and the short grass was soaked in mud. I laughed to myself at Ella's clean white boots. But I didn’t have to laugh for long.
— What are you… — Elizabeth almost squealed.
— You don’t want to walk through the puddles, do you? — Nicolas replied. He picked Ella up in his arms and carried her across the field, boldly dirtying his pants and shoes. I realized I was looking at them with envy, so I quickly grabbed my suitcase and Ella's and rushed after them. The splashing underfoot, to put it mildly, was unpleasant, and the suitcases hadn't gotten lighter during the vacation, but the choice was limited. I got into the car with Nick and Ella, just so I wouldn’t have to sit with Leo, and quickly shut the door behind me.
— Why are you so nervous? — my friend asked with a smile that stretched from ear to ear. In response, I just grimaced and turned away, although I really was still nervous and thanked the heavens that I was flying with Sarah and would hardly have to communicate with De Vil.
In the airport area, the rain eased, and I pressed my temple against the window. Ella was talking about her impressions of the wedding, while Nicolas patiently listened to her and sometimes even inserted a few words here and there.
I spent the entire flight in a semi-conscious state, with my eyes closed, headphones in my ears, and sedatives inside. Sarah woke me up just before landing.
While I was trying to unpack, Dam called me.
— Rain cloud, should I drop by? I need all the details!
— You, as always, are timely, just bring some coffee with you. Black, — I needed a dose of caffeine just to survive until evening.
— They didn't let you sleep?
— No, but hurry.
— Already on the way, — the guy grunted and hung up.
I stuffed the last thing into the wardrobe and blissfully shut it. The red wine dress will have to be sent to the dry cleaners...
Louis greeted me and scolded me, murmuring something, and I was sure it meant: where have you been wandering about? Oh, how I wished I could tell him everything. I think he understood me better than anyone, but fortunately, for these purposes, Damiano was already ringing the doorbell. The cat started rubbing against my legs. I picked up this black bundle in my arms and let Dam into the apartment.
— Lady, is it you who ordered coffee?
— Coffee! — I exclaimed happily.
— Since our bartender loves you very much, he brought you as a gift the most delicious cinnamon rolls in Milan, — I smiled satisfactorily.
— Tell the bartender he's the most wonderful person I know.
— Will do, rain cloud, — Dam smiled only for a moment before adding. — By the way, why are you really so sad? Did the bride run away from the wedding, or maybe the groom? It was supposed to be a vacation!
— What vacation are we talking about when it’s the De Vili family? — I raised my eyebrows meaningfully.
— I thought you had gotten involved with someone.
— Don't remind me, it's already bad enough.
— Holy cocktails! I need the details! — the guy took off his jacket, scarf, and sat down on the chair. — Come on, I’m ready, — he stated. All I had to do was take a deep breath and sink into the sofa.
I scratched Louis behind the ear, trying to remember all the details of the trip to Naples. As time passed, Damiano's eyebrows rose higher and higher, and at the end of my story, he declared:
— This is some kind of madness.
— What do you mean some kind? — I asked, feigning offense. — The best in the city!
— I’m serious! Dell, you kissed him! You-kissed-him! — he exclaimed, and it seemed he was about to lose consciousness.
— Thanks for reminding me, I was thinking: something I forgot, — I mimicked him, and Louis hissed.
The guy shook his head and pinched his nose.
— And what will you do now?
— It seems I’m already doing something, — I noted, and Dam raised an eyebrow. — Avoiding him.
— Old good methods? — disappointment was palpable in his voice.
— Got a better idea?
Dam shook his head and closed his eyes. I felt sorry for both myself and him.
I scrolled through my phone feed. People were congratulating me on my birthday, but most importantly, most of these people weren't even familiar to me. Still, it was a strange feeling: the feeling of popularity. It hadn’t even been two months since the last, spectacular show, and almost four hundred thousand people had subscribed to me!
And yet I was only concerned about the messages that kept coming one after another. I didn’t want to reply to him.