“I can explain,” I defend myself, behind my open hands to protect against any forthcoming blows.
And since God hates me and wants me to know it, he chooses this very moment for Elisa to make an entrance.
“Explain what?” she asks from the doorway, confused by the strange scene.
“Looks like she’s the third,” Danielle exclaims, elbowing Sheila.
Although she’s only just arrived, Elisa knows English well enough to have understood. At Danielle’s mention of athird, her gaze changes, her eyes filling with disappointment.
“The third what?”
“It’s not a business trip,” spits Sheila. “He’s sleeping with her too.”
“It’s not what it seems,” I say to Elisa, in a tone that’s hardly reassuring. It’s not what it seems—it’s worse.
“Who ... who are these women?” she asks me with a tremor in her voice.
“I’m Michael’s girlfriend,” Sheila says quickly.
“So am I,” adds Danielle. “What about you? He’s with Sheila during the week. He’s with me during the weekend, so where do you fit in? What are your shifts?”
“I can’t believe it,” Sheila moans with tears in her eyes. “I trusted you. We’ve been together for six months. When did you start seeing other women?”
“Well, Sheila, that’s the point. I never started seeing other women, I’ve always seen other women,” I confess, ashamed to the core. “I didn’t think we were exclusive ...”
“Well, instead of thinking it, you could have bothered to say it,” Danielle confronts me. “You know what? You’re just a big dick with a little man attached to it. You don’t offer anything a nice vibrator doesn’t, so you can go fuck yourself, Michael,” she shouts, as she coldly brushes past Elisa, who is watching me silently.
Sheila, Elisa, and I remain, immersed in a chilling silence.
“You know, I can see why you’re into Danielle. She’s a beautiful woman, classy, she holds herself well for forty-three—but her?” Sheila asks, pointing to Elisa. “You go for slobs now too?”
“Sheila, please don’t insult someone who has nothing to do with this,” I stop her. “It’s my fault.”
“You’re right, it is your fault. I was wasting my time with you. We could have been a family one day!” she says, grabbing a glass ornament and hurling it at me, though it misses and hits the mantelpiece. “Don’t ever speak to me again,” she shouts, before walking away.
Elisa looks at me and shakes her head.
“Please, I ...” I implore her. “I can explain.”
“What is there to explain? I saw it all with my own eyes, and in any case, unlike these two unhappy people, you told me. In fact, you wrote it down in black and white that we are not a couple. You don’t owe me any explanations. I’m sure you can easily find some other naive lady to add to the notches on your bedpost.”
“Elisa, I know I’m not in any place to speak, but you’re not a notch. Not you.”
“Look, we’re okay. Anyway, what else could there have been between us, if not a one-night stand? At least this way, I’ve had the chance to make an informed decision and still maintain a modicum of dignity. It wasn’t a great way to find out, but I still prefer it to believing lies.” She turns and walks out, her shoulders hunched like someone who suddenly has a heavy burden to carry.
“Elisa—wait!” I chase after her, but she stops me with a wave of her hand.
“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear your pathetic and hypocritical excuses. You’re ridiculous.”
She exits the villa, and I’m left standing alone at the entrance, contemplating the vastness of my idiocy and looking for a nonexistent way to turn back time.
I only come out of my haze when Donatella appears from the kitchen, carrying a breakfast tray.
“Your coffee, Mr. D’Arcy,” she says, handing me a cup. “I see there are some pieces to pick up.”
“Yeah, Sheila threw an ornament at the fireplace. I hope it wasn’t valuable.”
“Oh, it was just a Bohemian crystal bear from Otto von Bismarck’s collection. But that’s not what I was referring to,” she replies with her characteristic nonchalance.
