Chapter 87: Chapter 87

“How would you care for a walk here later?” Dmitri said in my memories of him. He suddenly invaded my mind reminding me of the promise we made a few years back. I erase that memory and continue walking outside the hotel.

When I first came to Germany, I fell in love with Ludwigstrasse street in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. It is a busy street, especially during the night time displaying lots of city night lights in a pedestrian street packed with tourists.

I came to know the place when Dmitri brought me to Manor Sullivan, we passed by that street and we actually made a promise to each other that we would go back that night. But since his presence was needed in New York at that time, we didn’t get a chance to come back.

I sigh, standing here, fulfilling the promise we made, only not together, but alone, on my own. My eyes are still mesmerized by the blissful and vibrant mood this street is emitting. Stores left and right offer different kinds of things.

The restaurants all have their al fresco, in fact, they are all bars serving some snack food. The tourist enjoys them so much.

The buskers are all around, each has their talents to show, singing, dancing, both, and a lot more. Loud music is all over the place.

I keep on walking and walking. At some point, I could feel that the excitement isn’t the same. I’ve been wanting to go here but now that I am here, I can’t understand this feeling.

“Is it because I am alone? Or is it because of the unfulfilled promise he made?”

I feel a little down and decided to drink and relax myself a bit. I order a beer and take a spot on a table beside a tree trunk.

I watch all the people passing by, until a woman sits down across from me.

She greets me and she speaks in English, “Hi, are you an American?”

I am surprised hearing her speak English, “Oh, hi. Yes, I am.”

“Are you alone? In this crazy big country?” she says. “My name’s Audrey, by the way.”

“Yes and no. Yes, i am alone tonight, but I came here with my classmates,” I explain.

“Hmm, interesting. Would you mind if I sit down with you? I actually got lost… lost in the beauty of this street,” she chuckles.

“I know, right? It’s my first time too, and I am spooked,” I chuckle back.

“So, where are you from?” she asks.

“Uh, originally form Seattle, but, I’ve been living in France for two years now,” I tell the story.

“Oh, really? That’s nice, isn’t it? So, what made you go to France? Job? Or partner?” she intriguingly asks.

“Well, both. I am working as a curator in a museum in France. And we’ll be getting married soon, so both,” I say.

“Hmm, that’s good then. Congratulations,” she celebrates.

“So, how about you? What are you doing here alone?” I ask her back.

“Just roaming around. I am on my school vacation, so I am trying to make the best out of it. But, apparently, my boyfriend had other plans.

“And that would be?”

“To piss me off!” she laughs and then drinks the mug of beer she’s been holding in her hands ever since.

“Oh, savage!” I say. Her bright personality lightens my mood. So I hang out with her the whole time. I curiously ask her, “So what the hell happened and how did your boyfriend piss you off?”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Oh goodness, don’t remind me, please,” then she laughs like crazy and drinks her beer.

“You bet,” I answer. Then she pulls her chair next to me and says, “My boyfriend is such an asshol, you know. He’s been asking my to do shit I don’t like when we are making out.”

I almost spit out the beer I am drinking, and I laugh, “What the! Lower your voice,” I told her.

“What! We are Americans, and one more thing, the don’t know shit, these people aren’t as, well, uh, flexible, as we are?” she is outspoken, brazen, and ridiculous.

But she definitely made our night.

We have drinks for a few more rounds. “So, I am curious about these things your boyfriend want you to do, huh?” I ask boldly, with the help of the alcohol.

She pounds the table and begins to tell her story, “Huh! Well, you see,” then she begins to whisper the censored part, “He wants us to do anal sex, and then deep throat, and bondage.”

I put my hands above, “Woah, woah! Too much information. And damn, your boyfriend is something else. What does he think, you guys are making a porn,” then I laugh.

I bump her shoulder, “So, what did you say? And, did you try any of them?”

The drunk version of me always likes this stuff, but believe me when I say, I am as innocent as hell when I am not drunk.

She looks at me, “Do you really want to know, huh?”

And then I nod. She looks around and then she puts her mouth really close and next to my ears, “Well, you see, deep throat was okay, but the anal sex? God, no! Never! Don’t even know how those girls in porn could pull it up.”

I giggle like a super tipsy girl and I find her story reall entertaining, “So, it didn’t get in?”

“Gosh, no! We really tried, but even with lubes, it is impossible, I was crying, can you imagine?” she said with irritation and disgust in her voice.

I just don’t know which part is she disgusted with.

And then she even adds, “And you know what, girl, it was only the head but I couldn’t take it anymore, but that fucking jerk was moaning and groaning like crazy. While I was in pain, he found pleasure,” she details it.

“Uh, that’s a red flag and you know it. How long have you known each other again?” I suddenly get curious and ask her.

“Well, uh, two weeks?” she proudly announces. I spank her on her left side and mutter,

“What the! I thought you’ve been together for a long time, goodness, gracious!” I squeal.

She glares at me jokingly, “Don’t be such a judger, how about you, did you have anything to share, huh? And how does it feel to be, uh, tied with the ring on your finger?” she asks as if there’s something wrong about being married.

“Oh, this?” then I show her my left hand, “Mixed emotions?” and then I chug the mug of beer and add more beer.

“Why mixed? Shouldn’t it be like a happy, positive thingy?” she curiously asks.

I sigh, at some point I feel easier to talk to her about almost everything. I don’t know if it is the alcohol speaking from within me, or is it really me.

You know what they say, it’s easy to open up to strangers who knows nothing of you, because they won’t judge you, and even if they did, they will only count what they heard from you, nothing more, nothing less.

That’s why, she catches my heart and I get to tell her my story, the scandal, why I left states and my engagement with my fiance, and even my rumbling and wavering feelings towards Dmitri.

It is true, they really didn’t give a damn about who you are, they will just respond according to what they heard from you.

She seems shocked and then she suddenly remember a post that went viral. Apparently, she has watched it, too.

“Oh my gosh, that’s you?” she covers her mouth with her hands expressing her disbelief.

I nod and then drink my beer.

“Oh, goodness! I watched your live stream, and damn, I felt something was off. I knew it. You were hurt, just hurt, huh?” her words comfort me.

“So you two didn’t come back together, huh?” she asks.

“What for? It’s been done, all along, and, I am pretty sure he lives his life just fine, since he’s a billionaire, and a man,” I sarcastically give a remark.

Her eyes widened and her stares turn into glares.

I shrug my shoulders, “What? I just spoke of the truth,” I exclaim, but her expression seems a bit off.

“Wait, don’t tell me, when you cut ties with him, did you cut ties with the world, too? Soc med, profile? Internet?” her eyes are focused on me.

“Uh, yes?” I skeptically answer her.

“Fuck!” she says and I am surprised by her reaction. She stands up and shakes me off on my shoulders, “Your billionaire is Dmitri Sullivan, right?”

I look at her, “Don’t say he’s mine, he isn’t,” I ask her to sit down.

“You didn’t know, did you?” she says with an enraged tone.

“Know what?” I raise my eyebrows.

“Damn! He went through hell after the elevator girl left him. Well, he’s able to clean up your name, after all, he found that jelly woman who spread your video, and she got her own medicine,” she begins explaining.

“Uh, what do you mean by that? Own medicine?” I suddenly got curious. I was right, it was Jen Storm’s doing.

“Well, uh, Dmitri also spread her videos. He was ruthless, he said he did it to avenge you. Wait, let me search it okay,” she takes out her phone and begins searching.

While she’s taking out her phone, I don’t know why but I suddenly feel nervous. I am not sure if I really wanted to see it. But Audrey already put it on the table.

So I have no choice but to watch it, haven’t I?

At first, I could only hear his voice and how he managed to get into her apartment, and then, when Jen Storm showed up, that’s when it went really, uh, exciting? I don’t actually know if it is the right term. Either way, I continue watching it.

People, netizens went rogue on the comments when they heard what Jen Storm had said. Audrey was right, Dmitri really cleansed my name.

At some point, I questioned myself, “Had I not gone away, would our love progress?”

At the end of the video, I know it was a weak one, but I definitely heard Dmitri say, “Please, come back, I am ready now.”

I blink and I give back the phone to her. “Ready for what?” Now that is a question that can no longer be answered.

Audrey then looks at me, “So? Did it change your feelings even a bit?”

I clear my throat, “I don’t know, girl. What should I feel anyway? It was long gone. Finished! See, I am engaged now.”

She stares at me with her round eyes as I speak, it is as if she doesn’t believe what I say. So I just give her a smile.

Then, she hits her last story, “Oh, I forgot to tell, you said his life was never better right?”

I nod. “Well, you were wrong,” she told me.

“What do you mean?” I ask her directly.

“He was kicked out from his own company. Well, he formally resigned from the position, but rumors said that he was devastated after you left, so he mingled with different women, drank here and there, like literally living and sleeping in clubs. As far as I know, he just got reinstated a few months ago,” and that’s where here story ends.

I couldn’t speak, nor believe what I just heard. I knew nothing. I thought I was the only one who was suffering, but I didn’t even think, not even for a second, of what he felt at that time.

For the first time in two years, I cried for him, I began to see what I meant to him. Tears begin to flow ceaselessly.

Audrey hands me a hanky, “Here. I hope you figure out your feelings soon, Avery. Based on what I hear and witness tonight, you are so not over him. Your feelings for him are much deeper than you thought,” she gives me some words of encouragement.

We agree to do some bar hopping but unfortunately, she’s taken away by her boyfriend.

Even from afar, I can see the man charging at us and it was too late for her to run away so she decides to make up to him.

“Audrey, honey! Let’s talk,” screams the man with his short and sleeveless top on.

Audrey’s face turns red upon hearing him, “Sorry, but I should bring him inside before he makes a mess. Really nice meeting you, bye!”

And just like that, she disappears from the bar we are in. She pulls her boyfriend far away from the club.

And I am left alone again. Being alone makes me think of him, my regrets of leaving him, my justification of leaving him, my thoughts convincing I shouldn’t be with him, everything is about him.

I decide to go for a walk. Despite my tipsiness, surprisingly, I can still manage to walk in one line, see straight, and roam around.

I try to imagine myself being with Dmitri, imagining what it could have been if we had walked in this promised street two years ago.

I could have been very happy. Tonight was supposed to be a night of fun, but look where it got me, I cry, I laugh, and drink all night.

And there’s more, I feel like he’s here with me, well, in fact, I can see him walking beside me. I hit my face to wake up from this dream, but his image just won’t go away. So I let him be.

There’s nothing else I want to do anyway but to drink and drink.

With every bar, I visited, and restaurants, I ate at, no one tried to hit on me. I scoff, “Don’t I look pretty anymore?” I even talk to imaginary him, It’s just that I am used to guys swooning themselves at me.

I look at the imaginary Dmitri I am seeing across from my seat, “And now look, you are here with me. I am imagining you, that’s why no one wants to hit on me because I look like crazy talking to no one.”

I sip the beer, “But you know, I just kinda like you like that, you wear that smiling face of yours, and you look so damn hot!”

I don’t know why but the image of him I am seeing is reacting to everything I’m saying. People start looking at me and some of them find my action funny, too.

So I decided to go back to my hotel, but my legs give up, and everything goes black in an instant.

And before I collapse, it’s clear that I mouthed, “Will I ever see him again? Am I right to send him away? Is it really my fault for running away? But whatever the answer is. I miss him. I miss him so so so bad.”