For those that wanted to know more about Misha before he met Froo, here is his story and how he came to be in England which is where he met her and fell in love, and his time with Suzanne the woman in his past.
His passion for Suzanne becomes an obsession, as she plunges down into a self destructive whirlpool, so for those that believe that life's many experiences make up a rich and interesting tapestry....here is Misha's story.
To read about Misha and Froo please read the companion story Taking the Risk Chapter's 1-21 under Novels and Novella's.
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He knew she was gone the moment he walked into the apartment; he could feel it in his soul. The space echoed around him with emptiness.
Standing there, his bag dropping to the ground at his feet he felt nothing but relief at first. The realisation that all the problems of living with someone who was an unpredictable junkie and alcoholic would no longer rest on his shoulders washed over him. Stepping further into the room he looked around and noticed the note sitting there on the coffee table, and bending over to retrieve it he opened it, noticing his hands were trembling slightly.
The terse words stood out starkly in her shaky scrawled scribble.
'I've gone back to New York. I used your credit card. Don't try and find me.'
Turning the envelope over his card fell out into his palm. He hadn't even noticed that one was missing. How much money had she taken from him? Sinking down onto the couch, he sat there, her final kick in his stomach sinking in. Leaning back he just sat there as the gloom descended into dark, too tired to move, too exhausted to think, too drained to feel.
*
Misha woke the next morning to the ringing of the phone. Struggling up to sitting from where he had fallen asleep on the couch sometime during the night, he stretched, his body aching, his head pounding, and looked across the room to the ringing instrument. Walking slowly towards it, rolling his shoulder where it hurt, he reached out and picked up the offending handset.
"Yeah...."
"How'd it go?"
"John....?"
"Hi...just phoning to find out how the job went? Everything go ok....want to meet up tonight to go out and celebrate?"
Misha stood there leaning against the wall rubbing his face with his free hand, the voice of his friend in his right ear bringing him back to reality.
"She's gone....."
A small silence from the other end of the phone and then John quietly asked, "Suzanne?...."
"Yeah gone....she left whilst I was away filming....back to New York."
"Want to meet up tonight?"
"Yeah...."
Putting down the phone and walking into his bedroom he stopped at the door, the pain starting in his heart as he saw the open wardrobe, gaps where her clothes used to be. Drawers were open and the top of the dressing table, usually covered in her mess of makeup and bottles of perfume was now empty. The simple proof of his loss started the tears to fall, and he sunk down on the edge of the bed and cried.
Cried for himself, cried for her and for what he wished for and planned for that would never be.
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