Ruins of Autumn

12• I Hate You, Anila!

"Did we ever see it
coming?
Will we ever let it
go?"

The Other Side
| Ruelle |
••••

    If he had known for sure that she wouldn't wake up at all that night, he would have slept on the couch in the living room, but he barely managed to hold out until the next morning to be in the same bed with Anila. With silent snorts of annoyance, he allowed her embraces, and the feeling of disgust constantly distorted his face from pretending whenever he remembered that he had spent the night with Amarildo's sister.
 
    He had almost fallen prey to the weakness of a moment last night by the doubt that he was wrong and had to give up, but he had narrowly escaped by insisting on the decision since the beginning that Anila was nothing but his card, to be used against Amarildo Idrizaj, and the latter deserved much worse than that. He didn't care about anything else. The thirty-year-old had shown no mercy at all to him and his family, and Blerimi would repay him with the same coin.
 
    As the day dawned, he got out of bed to prepare breakfast. Since it was the last day of their relationship, he had to be careful so that no problem would arise at the final moment.
 
    Anila found him in the kitchen, wearing only a pair of black sportive trousers, while he placed two sandwiches on plates.
 
    "Good morning," she greeted him with a smile and a voice tone as soft as the calm, silky waves of the ocean at dawn.
 
    "Good morning." Blerimi looked at her, wearing one of his white shirts, and walked over to the kitchen dining table.
 
    He was going to throw away the clothing she was wearing as soon as he got the chance.
 
    "When did you wake up?" Anila ran her left hand across half of her still-sleepy face as she approached him.
 
    "About an hour ago," Blerimi put the pitcher with fruit juice on the table and turned to her to hug her. He kissed her forehead and pulled her head away to look into her eyes. "What? Did you remember anything that made you go silent?" he teased her, and she didn't hide her slightly blushed cheeks.
 
    "That I love you," she confessed with lavish feelings in her bright eyes, and Blerimi kissed her.
 
    "Sit down. You must be hungry," he moved the chair for her and tried to fill the glasses with fruit juice.
 
    "No, you sit down." Anila stopped him with her hand placed on his exposed arm. "I want to do something too."
 
    Blerimi left the pitcher on the table and sat.
 
    "What's your plan for today?" she asked while filling the glasses.
 
    "During the morning, I'll be at work. My friends have invited me to go out in the afternoon, but I don't know."
 
    "What do you want to know? I can tell you." Anila meant something else.
 
    Smiling from her coquetry, he allowed her to sit on his lap and returned her the kiss, being careful not to be misunderstood that he wanted more.
 
    "What are you up to today?" He brushed Anila's hair behind her back while looking at her, seemingly gleeful to be that close to her.
 
    "I'll go out with my girl friends too," Anila said, getting up from his lap to sit on the chair in front of him. "We're getting ready for university."
 
    "How about we go on a date in the evening?"
 
    "Yes," she happily accepted his invitation. "And then let's buy dessert and eat it at my house. What do you think?"
 
    "Sounds great." Blerimi hid a smile of triumph, that Anila was making everything so easy for him that he didn't have to strain at all to come up with a backup plan if something unexpected came from her.
 
••••
    She met her friends, Blerta and Ersilda, near the National Library, and they set off in the latter's car towards Durrës, a city from which Anila had senselessly gotten only negative discomfort, and all the times she had gone there, to change that feeling, she had ended up seized by a desperate need to run away from that place.
 
    That day she had set out with the same impossible mission in mind: to walk along the seashore and around the city with Blerta and Ersilda, to have lunch together, and to return to Tirana in the evening.
 
    Until those moments, when she was in the restaurant of her choice and had ordered seafood, she hadn't been able to get over the unpleasant feeling of being in Durrës, even for a moment. She decided that, if she didn't make it that day, she wouldn't torture herself anymore to return there again.
 
    "Girls, I'm going mad because of some Instagram accounts about s*x that keep following me," Ersilda complained in a low voice as the waiter left after bringing the food ordered by them. "They are defaming my reputation."
 
    "Make the account private," Blerta suggested.
 
    "No, I want followers," Ersilda snivelled. "But not that kind of followers. People who know me will say, 'She must have liked a post of theirs or watched their stories, and that's why they're following her.' Don't you get such requests?" the blonde girl asked, dazed by their calmness.
 
    "It's been a while since I've lost count of who is following me," Anila took the glass of water in front of her to drink. "I have over thirty thousand followers."
 
    "Some people text me astrological messages," Blerta said. " 'Do you want us to read your natal chart?' they ask."
 
    "Yeah, the sea chart!" Ersilda laughed, and only Blerta joined her in that mockery.
 
    Anila's face frowned, remembering the subject of astrology from Brunilda. She was very fond of that science, and Anila had always listened only for her sake, not that she had any interest.
 
    Brunilda had sent her sister, Xhensila, to get her clothes at Anila's house one day after their final argument, and now Anila had no idea where she was.
 
    Repentance, that she had treated Brunilda unfairly, not infrequently came to the fore, to ask her to text Brunilda and clarify things, but she always gave up. Maybe ending their friendship with her had really saved Anila from a false friend, and later, she would be completely convinced of how right she had been.
 
    Going out with Blerimi that evening helped to put her mind at ease from the many assumptions and to continue with her usual cheerful mood.
 
    They returned to her house around midnight in his car.
 
    "I liked that bar." Anila locked the main door, and they both went to the living room. "We should go again sometimes. What do you think?"
 
    Blerimi turned serious towards her.
 
    "I think we should end it already," he said in a neutral tone.
 
    "What?" Anila looked at him, confused.
 
    "Our relationship," came the dry answer from her boyfriend. "Everything between the two of us was planned from the beginning by me."
 
    The time had finally come to get rid of her. Her confusion immediately turned into shock from that answer, and Anila didn't know where to begin to understand what Blerimi was trying to explain in that way.
 
    "What are you talking about?" She hardened her voice a little, not in the mood for such games.
 
    "I'm saying that your Brunilda was right when she said that I was playing with you," he confessed openly, and Anila was stunned even more.
 
    "Blerim. What are you saying?
 
    "You know very well what I'm saying, Anila," he replied, indignant now that he had to explain everything to her when she knew it herself. "Maybe not everything, but that you know about Xhuliana, you do. Especially your brother, Amarildo, knows for sure."
 
    Anila was unable to think clearly from being gripped by the feeling of stress and fear, that the next few minutes didn't promise the creation of beautiful memories, and that it would be more in her favour if she didn't read the next chapter in her life but skipped it and continued with the next one.
 
    But life didn't work that way, and Blerimi refused to make any exceptions for Anila.
 
    "He was dating my sister eight years ago," said Blerimi. "He used her, recorded her when they slept together, and threatened her with that video to leave Tirana, or otherwise he would post it on the internet, and Xhuliana killed herself from depression because of him." He revealed to her with his voice raised after every word he said, and the hatred was no longer hidden behind the mask of a calm person towards the frightened woman, with her eyes widened by the horror of those words about her brother.
 
    "No," she muttered in disbelief. "This isn't true."
 
    "Xhuliana had told Denada everything that I told you now. That's why she reacted, as Brunilda had said, when she saw you that day in the bar. She recognised you because of Amarildo."
 
 
    "I think that woman recognised you," Brunilda said suspiciously. "Like I do. Did you not notice, or did you pretend like you didn't?"
 
    "I didn't notice."
 
    "She almost fainted when she saw you."
 
    "Really?" Anila frowned, unconcerned. "Maybe she had thought I was someone else."