This is an excerpt from my WIP. To set the scene: my main character, Olivia, fell in love with a Swiss opera singer while on vacation in Austria. She has been accompanying him on a recital tour of Europe when she is told a disturbing secret about her lover.
I’d never felt dissociated before, but that’s exactly how I’d describe sitting there listening to Max tell me that Erich had been married for three months when he came to Chicago. I was in a sudden daze, and I felt as though I was across the room watching him fidget as he told me the whole story.
The lady in question was someone who worked in Opernhaus Zurich, and that’s how they’d met. I didn’t ask questions, and I only gave him robotic, one-word responses. He apologized, handed me his room card and left quietly, knowing that Erich would be on his way back at any moment.
I didn’t cry when the door closed. I simply went into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. My brain couldn’t process what had been said to me.
He’s married… they’d known each other for a few years… I was the witness at their ceremony…
I felt my chest tighten, like it had on the plane ride from Innsbruck to Berlin. I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard Erich come back and call for me.
“Olivia? Schatzi?” He looked around the living room before coming into the bedroom. He stopped suddenly when he saw me sitting there.
“Wie heißt sie?” I asked quietly.
“What?”
I stood up. “What’s your wife’s name?”
He looked as though he wanted to cry and throw up at the same time. He reached out his hand. “Olivia, please, let me–”
I moved away from him. “Don’t you dare touch me. All those times you said you loved me, you were saying that to get me back in bed.”
“Olivia, no! Ich liebe dich, nur dich. I love only you.” He stood close to me. “Please, don’t–don’t do this.”
Before I realized it, I slapped his face as hard as I could. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t have lied to me!” I grabbed my suitcase, which luckily hadn’t been unpacked yet.
Erich reached for the handle. “What are you doing? Please don’t leave. Just let me explain everything.”
“What’s to explain? You had one last fling before you went back home and got married, and now you want a little extra while you’re on tour. I will not be your mistress.”
“Just let me tell you why I got married. She said she was pregnant–”
Oh, the whole mess got infinitely better. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I said as I laughed. “Do you really think that’s going to help you in any way?” I took the suitcase and walked to the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked. “We’re booked in here together.”
“Max’s room is empty now,” I said as I showed him the room card, “so I think I’ll take that. In fact, I’ll take his room in Vienna too.” I stopped before opening the door. “So, what’s her name?”
Erich didn’t say a word. He couldn’t even look at me.
“I hope the two of you are happy. And I hope you never treat her the way you’ve treated me.”
The room was two doors down from his. That short walk felt like a walk of shame, and it didn’t help that he ran after me as I was unlocking the door.
“Olivia… Liebchen… please. Just–just talk to me.”
The sadness in his eyes would’ve broken my heart, had he not broken it already. He looked utterly lost. That was his fault, not mine.
“I’ll be there at rehearsal tomorrow, and I’ll take care of your things during intermission. But that’s the extent of it. Starting tomorrow, I’m simply an assistant. Oh, and all those plans we made for Zurich? Fuck that. I’ll book a room for myself when we get there.”
I closed the door behind me, put my suitcase aside and burst into tears.