Why did he do this? Just because he's the sole borrower, he thinks he can decide everything without me? Who does he think he is? And who does he think I am? His obedient servant?
The estate hasn't even been sold yet! Who knows, maybe Vico…
"Don't look at me like that. Of course, I've taken care of everything," he rants, waving his hands in the air. "I've always made the decisions. Why should that change now?" There's a hint ofbecause you're not capable of doing it anywayin his words.
"What other decisions have you made without me?" I ask with growing unease. He's hiding something from me, I'm sure of it. Stoically crossing my arms over my chest, as much as I can with the cast, I observe how his movements become more and more agitated. "Out with it."
He swallows hard, then turns away. "It's for our own good," he says. Upset, he paces back and forth. "You have to understand, I've done everything to ensure we have a secure future. For you, Hanna. Only for you!" He stops by the window, turns around, and presses his fingertips together, forming a triangle with hishands. "That's what you always wanted. Nothing was more important to you than that."
Perhaps he expects me to approach him now. To thank him for taking such good care of me and to be happy that he's willing to shoulder this burden for me.
But it can't go on like this. I've let him have his way for years, forgetting about myself in the process. That has to stop now.
"That's true. However, you can't decide over my head about the path we're going to take together," I reply.
With a frosty expression, he approaches me. "Now suddenly you have a problem with that?" His voice almost breaks. "What's wrong with you, Hanna? Did that gigolo put these ideas into your head?"
Gigolo?
No. This won't work. I know exactly what he's trying to do here, but it won't work. Not today.
"Don't try to deflect from the topic. I asked you something, and I want to hear the answer. Right now," I say firmly, not allowing myself to look away. "What other decision have you made?"
He snorts disdainfully. "I used the bed-and-breakfast as collateral for the loan. I had to do it. Otherwise, I would never have gotten so much money from the bank."
Wait a minute. He mortgaged our bed-and-breakfast to take out a loan in his name? The place he only refers to asthebed-and-breakfast instead ofourbed-and-breakfast even though I've invested thousands of unpaid working hours and the little money I had from selling the family jewelry into its renovation?
If all this is dissolved, he will ultimately have enriched himself through me!
"You can't do that!" I gasp, but words fail me.
He shakes his head in incomprehension. "Of course, I can do that. The bed-and-breakfast is mine. Have you forgotten?"
"On paper, maybe. But when I sold my father's ring to invest in the roof repairs, you promised me that…" I can't continue. Because I hear how naive I sound. Tears well up in my eyes.
Now of all times, his expression softens. He comes closer and gently takes hold of my upper arms. "Why are you making a big deal out of nothing? We're getting married, Hanna. Then everything will be ours together," he says in a soft voice. "Can't you see that you're being unfair to me right now?"
Is that the truth? Am I being unfair to him? Or is it the other way around?
I sob, not knowing what to think anymore. I've never once stood in the way of Florian's plans.
He was the focused doer. I was the useless daydreamer.
Who are we today?
Are we still the same?
And if we are, is that right?
In his eyes, I search for answers to my questions.
"Wasn't I always there for you?" he asks, so full of disappointment that my heart tightens painfully. "Didn't I always give you what you needed? First a job, then a home. And now even the prospect of a financially secure future."
"You did," I acknowledge, and everything he says is true. Yet deep inside me, I feel that beneath this logical surface, another truth is simmering. "But every coin has two sides, and you've always made sure I only see the one that benefits you," I say, surprising myself with my words. My tears suddenly cease. I lock eyes with him. "Did you ever truly care about me?"
He tilts his head. "Of course."
"Then why did you never ask for my opinion?" I clench my fists, sweat forming in my palms. "Why did you dictate the course of our lives as if mine belonged exclusively to you?"
