I picked a random book from their bookshelf and threw myself onto the bed. My head wasn’t pounding anymore, but the force with which I threw myself on the pillow caused the pressure in my brain to remind me to take it easy. Olivia’s room was right next to mine, and I could hear her CD player humming a soft R&B ballad at a comfortable volume.
Erich had to be on the couch like he promised.
Did he ever sleep in this bed? I assumed the room I was in was technically his room when he lived with them after failing at finding his brother. But it also sounded like he started to sleep with Olivia during the time he was living here as well. The sheets smelled stale and unused, likely untouched in years.
I got to chapter three ofWuthering Heightsbefore my eyes began to feel heavy. My door was shut, so I had no idea if Olivia was still awake or if she had fallen asleep listening to her CD player. I closed the book, turning the lamp off and getting comfortable under the covers.
Once comfortable, I found it much harder to fall asleep than I thought. I rolled around to stare at the ceiling or window for a good hour before I heard a slow creaking sound from a door in the hallway.
I heard the music get turned down enough to hear talking, but I couldn’t tell what was said. Olivia’s voice wasobvious, but if she was talking to someone else, they either weren’t saying anything or speaking so quietly I couldn’t hear.
It was silent for a few minutes before I heard a sharp moan, followed by a male voice shushing. My veins turned to ice as I imagined Erich biting Olivia’s neck, his hands gripping her hips, and hers resting on his chest as they had the reunion they were waiting for when no one was around.
I heard some shuffling through the light music playing in Olivia’s room, then some giggling. After a few minutes, slowly ticking by as I strained to hear what was going on, even if I knew I’d be hurt, the steady thumping of Olivia’s headboard hitting the wall we shared filled the room, accompanied by muffled moans and gasps.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hold the pillow over my ears to drown out their extremely obvious encounter, but found myself listening out of curiosity, anyway. It went on for almost half an hour before Olivia’s loud gasp, silence, and then the CD player being turned off.
All I could do was keep my sleepless eyes on the ceiling, willing myself not to cry out of frustration and disgust.
Chapter 20 – October 16, 1993 – Camille
Ididn’t sleep much that night, even though the house was calm and quiet. The activity outside slowed down enough that sleeping would’ve been possible. The clock read 6:30 in the morning when the apartment door was unlocked and slowly opened. Mystique must have finally made it home after a long night of work. I heard the shuffling of feet and jangling of keys as I imagined she scurried around the apartment, putting her jacket and shoes away and reflecting on her night.
I didn’t want to be the first to wake up and sit with Mystique, but I also wanted answers. The night’s events would be confirmed if Erich wasn’t fast asleep on the couch. Plus, I was gaining my appetite back.
I heard the radio turn on and the volume lowered in panic so as not to wake anyone up. I sat up in bed as the kitchen faucet turned on, willing myself to go say good morning and preparefor the damning evidence of whether or not Erich stayed with Olivia all night.
My feet seemed to move themselves, one foot in front of the other, as I opened the door slowly. I was greeted by a loud creak and winced. Mystique’s morning ritual didn’t seem interrupted or stopped by my loud entrance. She was focused on making coffee and deciding what kind of breakfast to help herself to. Maybe she knew I was awake before I opened the door.
“Good morning, Camille.” Mystique greeted me without turning to make sure it was me. She was standing on a tiny wooden stool, her face in the cupboards. The rich smell of coffee hit me instantly, and I couldn’t recognize the soft rock song playing on the radio.
“Good morning,” I spoke, moving my gaze to the open door of the living room part of the apartment. My heart skipped a beat before racing to catch up to my spinning head. My already slow breath stopped as I noticed the empty couch. A quilted blanket in a mess on the floor.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she continued, grabbing a box of cereal before stepping down from the stool. I focused on her again. I didn’t want her to know I was searching for clues or show I was mildly devastated by what I found.
“Not at all.” I forced an answer, wiping my mind of the pictures and scenes flowing through my head of Erich and Olivia. “I’m an early riser.”
Mystique gave me a warm, glowing smile. I did not deserve how motherly and affectionate she was to me, a strange girl she barely knew. “You are strong and determined. My Olivia sleeps until noon when she’s given the chance. I wish she could learn a lot from you.”
I wanted to scoff at Mystique’s claims. I wasn’t strong at all. If I were, I wouldn’t be sitting there thinking about Erich. Infact, I wouldn’t have met Erich if that were a good description of me. “Thank you,” I managed to brace myself to hide my qualms. “I appreciate the kind words.”
Mystique pulled out two green plastic bowls, setting them on the small countertop. “Do you like Frosted Flakes?” she asked. “I need to do some shopping. It looks like that’s all that’s left.”
“Frosted Flakes are just fine,” I answered. “Thank you.”
I wanted to be free of my lurching stomach; the cornered feeling of realization that Erich slept with Olivia despite his words aimed at her. A broken heart that shouldn’t be broken, anyway. He had made it clear to me he didn’t feel any romantic impulses toward me. Why did I continue to hang off him? Why did I allow myself to hurt over someone, knowing there was no way to blame him for it? He was allowed to love, as was I.
“Camille?” Mystique questioned and glanced over her shoulder at me quizzically.
“Sorry,” I murmured. I didn’t hear what she had asked me.
“How much milk?” Mystique repeated. She was patient. She most likely didn’t want to interrogate me. I’m sure she had to learn to be patient once Olivia was born as well.
“Enough to cover the bottom, please,” I answered.
Would I be okay by myself? Was I ready? It had been half a year since that dreaded day.
Mystique set the bowl of Frosted Flakes in front of me, sitting across the table from me with her own. She was quiet for a long time, waiting for me to say something. Maybe to mention what was on my mind. I didn’t.
