I'd like to thank all of you for giving this story a chance. I appreciate all the feedback below both parts. The final part is here and all Vida's secrets will be revealed. But whether she and Gunnar would stay together or the secret would cause even more problems - you have to read it - to find out! :)
This story wouldn't be that smooth if not for my wonderful editors: Bunkerhill and Arontrask78 - I am forever grateful!! Special thanks to Bunkerhill who agreed to work on such a crazy long story - 50k words! Thank you so much!
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Vida's phone was dead all day Saturday. And for Sunday too. And for Monday as well. Nothing.
Nada
. No signal and only a robotic female voice tormenting me with her phrase: 'please try again...' So I was trying - during those three days I was calling her almost every hour, while mentally struggling.
First of all, I simply worried for Vida's safety. Terrifying thoughts were haunting me all the time. She sounded so ominous at the end! What if she left my apartment and something horrible happened to her? An accident? Or some wacko assaulted her? Miami is not the safest city in the US, right? These visions were mortifying. I tried to rationalize them with various scenarios that her phone just got broken, or she lost it or even, in the worst case, someone stole it. But Vida was fine, healthy, and unharmed. That's what I was convincing myself to think.
But to be honest, I felt powerless. This situation didn't differ much from that before the party - the fact that this time I had Vida's number didn't change anything. I still had no way to contact her. Even if she would turn on her phone, she could have just... not answered it. Actually, I would expect her not to pick up my calls, considering the way she left my place.
I didn't know where she lived and basically, there were only two spots where I could have met her - the gym and that fucking Seven-Eleven in Flagrami district.
So, I tried the first place on Saturday. Because of my nervousness I even forgot about the futsal session and just stood my friends up. I went to the gym almost an hour earlier than usual and stayed there until closing. I wasn't focused on workout, it didn't matter.
Vida didn't show up.
And the same went with Sunday and Monday. However, I kept going to the gym for the next few days, trying different hours. But it was all in vain.
I also tried to... it sounds really pathetic when I say it out loud... to sit in my car in the parking lot next to that Seven-Eleven, where I dropped Vida every time. I spent almost two hours there, watching people going in and out and from time to time, walking around the supermarket and areas nearby. But not only was it futile, it also made me feel like an idiot. Like a complete moron and even a creepy stalker. After one attempt I abandoned that idea. I would rather not let myself be controlled by some teenage obsession. It wasn't me.
I thought that there would be a better chance with the gym and I even asked the chicks at the reception if Vida showed up there, under the pretext that I found something in the parking lot, which I believed was hers. But they couldn't help me, probably because of personal data protection policy.
However, did Vida really dump me if we even weren't really together? Can a relationship which doesn't even exist be broken like that? Her note, if it even can be called that, didn't say anything about her not wanting to see me again, only that she was sorry.
I didn't get it, that evening was so great, everything between us seemed to be on the right track! I felt her real emotions! Her real self! And she decided to get away from it after that?!
Vida's disappearance made me go through the modified version of five stages of grief. First one - was fear - like I said, I was worried about her. Who wouldn't be? But after a week of searching for her and also following the local news about accidents, missing persons and so on, I was sure that nothing bad happened to her.
Vida simply ran away.
And that conclusion put me in the second stage - anger. I felt hurt and deceived. Again, who could really blame me for feeling that way?
Vida didn't want to continue whatever was between us? Fine! She should say so! I would have been able to accept it after some time. It wouldn't be easy because I really started to fall in love with her, but I would have swallowed that bitter pill somehow. I was a grown up man. I had coping mechanisms. But she did that in... a cowardly way. I believed that I deserved some closure. Some explanations. To hear the truth, even if it would be hurtful!
I was aware that there had to be something tragic behind her reasons, but whatever it was, she really could tell me, in particular, if she wanted to end our... thing. Just to be clear and honest with me.
Although, next time a thought about the Vida's mystery came to my mind, I went into phase three - sadness. My anger subsided, at least temporarily, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her.
I knew that Vida truly suffered because of whatever she was struggling with. Two things she said were coming to me over and over again.
'Enjoy it while it lasts' and that dilemma of hers, the choice between being selfish and dishonest or being happy. I couldn't get rid of the crushing thought that Vida was terminally ill. Many pieces of information seemed to fit that theory. She didn't want to invest fully into a relationship, she didn't want to undertake the steps people who date each other normally take. How long did it take until she even gave me her phone number? And there were the migraines she was suffering from. She was taking a really huge amount of strong painkillers on a daily basis.
But there were other clues that were suggesting something else. Vida seemed to have low self-esteem concerning her education, job and her personality too. She was judging herself really harshly, like she spoke about not being a good match for anybody. That she was far from being an angel.
And she was very secretive about her relatives, her parents in particular. Was she coming out of some pathological family and was ashamed of it? Addicts? Domestic violence in the picture?
The next week I was on the continuous emotional rollercoaster. I felt as if I was being tossed between sadness and anger, and overall depression. Completely deflated, I was going to the gym everyday, but Vida didn't show up.
Finally, the fourth stage came - resignation. I was slowly giving up hope that I would meet Vida again. And it was tearing up my heart. I only stronger realized that I missed her. That I had true feelings for her. And I wanted her in my life. But life had different plans for me. Yup, that didn't sound pompous at all.
I knew what the fifth stage was. Acceptation for the loss. But I didn't feel that I was ready for it.
***
After those nearly two weeks of struggle, my life eventually came back to normal, more or less. I wasn't happy, I didn't make peace with it yet, but I had no other choice than to live the way I had lived before I met Vida. Which was pretty dull. It was only a sad reminder how exciting those days were when I was meeting with her.
But it was what it was, I had to suck it up. When another boring Wednesday came I went to the gym, mentally slapping myself to stop feeling even a figment of hope to see Vida. And it was a proper attitude, as she wasn't there, obviously. But it would be pointless to deny that I felt disappointment. It was stronger than me.
After another half-hearted workout, as unsurprisingly, I had trouble finding motivation, I threw my bag on the backseat of my car and headed home.
I was lost in thought, which began to be my new state of mind, so I didn't realize at first that there was a motorcycle behind me, almost on my bumper. I noticed him when he flashed me a few times with his headlights. What the hell? I checked my speedometer, but I wasn't speeding or - what could be even more infuriating for guys like him - going obnoxiously slow. So, what did he want?
I got closer to the right side of the road in case he would have wanted to pass me, but he kept driving right behind me. I even slowed down and he did the same. Then I sped up and he did it too. Fuck!
I started to wonder if I accidentally cut him off, and he had a classic road rage attack. Or if I even had to do anything to make that douchebag angry. He was sitting on my tail. I was getting close to my apartment and the guy looked as if he was willing to confront me, so instead of driving straight to my block I pulled over at the nearest gas station. Better not to show psychos where I lived.
I parked at the side, opened my door and stepped out of my car. The motorcyclist stopped nearby, jumped off his vehicle and started to walk in my direction. He was kind of short, but his jeans and leather jacket looked pretty filled.
While I was nervously thinking what to grab as an improvised weapon if things got nasty, the motorcyclist took off his... or rather her helmet. Because it was a girl. With black hair.
It was Vida.
I was shocked and I wasn't at the same time. It was her style, to appear like this, out of nowhere. My mind went blank for a moment, but I could feel that emotions were starting to churn up in me. Not the positive ones.
She came closer, and I was intensely staring at her. My expression most likely wasn't very friendly, but I couldn't help it. All that mental hassle I went through over the past two weeks suddenly came back to me. Well, I was seeing the reason for all of that, standing right in front of me.
Vida's face was paler than before, and she had shadows under her eyes. She appeared to be tired, but even more - she seemed guilty. Good, she should be, I thought, gritting my teeth. Her dark, sad eyes gazed straight into mine, but she looked down quickly.
"I was looking for you, Gunnar," she said tentatively and looked at me again. She raised her hand, as if wanted to reach toward me, and dropped it immediately, seeing me standing tensely. What did she expect? That we will fall into each other's arms?
"Oh, really? Wow! That's so unexpected," I said sarcastically. Then I sighed and shook my head in disbelief, adding with a morose and bitter tone "Vida, you have my number, and you know where I live. You didn't have to 'look for me'. It could be done much, much easier than chasing me on the motorcycle. And much earlier."
"I know, I just wanted... to see you in person. I'm sorry, Gunnar. I'm... I'm an idiot. A complete mess." Her voice cracked, and she dropped her head.
Vida stood like this for a moment, looking at the ground. Some part of me wanted to touch her shoulder, but the other - stronger one - didn't. That second part won, but not without internal struggle. So I waited until she collected herself.
She raised her wet eyes and gazed at me. "I wanted to speak with you, Gunnar. I'm aware that... you may not want that anymore. Any of that... But please, give me a chance to... at least try to set this right."
