As we part, I gently caress her upper arms. "Then I won't touch anything, of course."Except for you, I add in my mind, chuckling at myself. With her, what seemed unthinkable just a few weeks ago now feels so natural. With her, I can forget, even if it's just for a moment. "But next time, I'll cook."
"Oh yes, definitely," she replies with a grin, taking my hand and pulling me toward her hut. Once we arrive, she directs me straight to the couch. "Make yourself comfortable," she instructs, then prances the few steps back to the kitchenette.
I pick up the laptop, which is open on the red-and-white-checkered cushion, and place it on the coffee table. Then I sink onto the sofa. A contented sighescapes my lips, and my eyelids immediately grow heavy. Some sleep would do me good, but now is not the right time for it.
"Arrabiata or vegetable?" Out of nowhere, Elina stands before me. In each hand, she holds a glass of pre-made sauce.
My adorable city mouse can't even prepare tomato sauce from scratch. Behind her facade is so much more, but when it comes to cooking skills, she fits the stereotype.
I can't help but grin.
Instantly, she raises an eyebrow. "Vegetable it is. Good choice." With those words, she twirls around before I can tease her about her lack of culinary expertise. "You could start looking for a hotel in Munich." She points at the laptop. "That will take your mind off things." Her tone leaves no doubt. She knows exactly what's going on in my head.
Honestly, I dread Munich. Just because I saw how much she would enjoy such a trip in her eyes, I agreed. And for her sake, I now bring the laptop closer and press the power button. I should manage two days in the city air if we spend a lot of time in parks. But my lungs won't handle much longer than that.
The screen lights up. Apparently, no password is needed, so I open the browser. "We could stay outside the city," I cautiously suggest.
"Are you crazy? If we're already there, we want to party as well. For that, we definitely need a downtown hotel."
Just the thought makes me short of breath. "Alright," I say and typeMunich, hotel, anddowntowninto the search bar.
A series of accommodations is displayed, and I click through them, discussing the details with Elina. Our choice falls on a small, romantic hotel tucked away in a hidden side street. Elina's cheeks are practically glowing, and it’s not just because she constantly leans over the steaming pot with the cooking pasta.
"Would you send the inquiry right away?" she asks while arranging some tomatoes for a salad.
I immediately get to work, selecting the dates and sending the inquiry. As Elina clumsily slices cucumbers, making me fear for her delicate fingers, a notification pops up at the bottom of the laptop screen.
That was quick. I open the email right away, only to realize it's not from the hotel.
It's an invitation for a job interview. In Vienna.
"Do you like iceberg lettuce?" Elina's voice suddenly sounds distant, just like the simmering of the boiling water.
"Mm-hmm." Absentmindedly, I nod. I know this message wasn't meant for my eyes, but I can't help it. I stare at the text. Slowly, I begin to grasp the meaning of the words.
Elina wants to leave.
Of course, she does. She has mentioned more than once how much she longs for city life. I can't help but swallow. This afternoon, when we stood tightly embraced on the observation platform, she seemed happy. She called the mountains beautiful. I could see how much she enjoys nature, and Hanna told me that Elina has already made friends with some villagers despite initial difficulties.
She doesn't lack anything here. Nothing, except for a position for her neurology residency, which sheobviously applied for. That's her dream. The job she has worked toward her whole life.
Suddenly, my chest feels tight. Heat rises within me, and a dull thumping dominates my head. It prevents me from forming a coherent thought. There are only questions within me, all without answers.
Would Elina actually leave? Am I ultimately nothing more than a pleasant pastime for her? Someone who fills her boring weekends with life so she feels a little less alone?
I strain to massage my temples, but the pressure in my head seems to increase further. Not for the first time, I become aware of the truth that connects us both. I don't deserve this woman nor the happiness she brings out in me. I should never have given in to my feelings for her. It was clear from the beginning that it would end like this.
"Do you have a response yet?" Elina suddenly stands before me, holding the cooking spoon in her hand. Her top is splattered with salad oil, and her hair falls wildly across her face.
Quickly, I mark the email of doom as unread. Then I attempt a smile, but it doesn't quite succeed. "No," I reply, not knowing if I will ever have a single answer to my countless questions.
