Each day I ventured out with my heart in my throat, paranoidly scanning my surroundings for suspicious golden locks, but it was as if the blond man had never entered our lives.
About a week had passed since that stressful night. For the first time, I returned home alone without anyone accompanying me, and exhausted from constantly glancing in panic at the faces of the people passing me by, I collapsed on the couch in the living room. I reached for the half-read – Harry Potter,– which I had probably read for the twentieth time, and fully immersed myself in the familiar text. The sound of commotion in the hall broke my reader's trance.
– Damn, what a messed-up day! – I heard Victor's angry voice coming from the front door.
I got up and went to meet him, knowing it was relatively easy to upset him, but not to this extent.
– What happened? – I asked just as Victor threw his jacket onto the nearest piece of furniture.
– Your almost ex decided to leave this world, and the police suspect me! – he blurted out in one breath. A very unpleasant shiver ran through me, followed by a strange paralysis.
My almost ex?
– Who? Alex? – I asked after a moment when the initial shock subsided enough for me to move with mechanical, slow motions, like a child taking their first steps, following Victor further into the apartment.
One thought chased another in my head. Alexander... He was such a... good and harmless guy. He got a little lost and kept me up at night, but it never crossed my mind that someone would kill him. Certainly not Vic.
– Yes, Lotnik! – Vic snapped, rummaging through the bar, probably looking for Jack Daniels. – Why the hell would I kill him?!
– Alex is dead? My God...
– Exactly – he grumbled, having found a bottle of his favorite whiskey. – Can you imagine?! And these blockheads claim they have a witness who saw me threatening him. Under your apartment. Four weeks ago! – He pulled a glass from the cabinet and poured some of the amber liquid into it, spilling a bit on the counter, then quickly swallowed the contents of the crystal glass and filled it to a quarter again. – If I wanted to deal with him, I wouldn't wait so long! Damn, what am I saying? Why would I kick a man when he's down and kill him?!
He emptied the glass again, placed it forcefully on the kitchen island counter, and filled it once more in the same manner as before.
– That's obvious – I agreed, still shaken by the news of the death of a man who absolutely didn't deserve it. – I'm just in shock that he lost his life. As a person. Maybe it was suicide? He was a bit unbalanced lately. You saw it yourself.
– I told them, but the evidence clearly points to murder – Victor said, downing another glass of whiskey. – And I'm a suspect. As if that wasn't enough, some idiot almost hit me at the intersection. How do these people drive? Did he get his license in exchange for butter or what?!
It looked like he wanted another drink, but when he tilted the bottle already opened a few days earlier, he found it was empty, so he angrily threw it to the floor. The glass shattered, and the smallest pieces scattered everywhere, with some reaching my feet. This finally restored my ability to move normally.
I walked up to my love and hugged him gently from behind to alleviate the burden that had fallen on him today. He allowed me to hold him, and I felt his tense muscles gradually relax, but then they tensed again. He gently freed himself from my embrace and gave me an apologetic smile.
– I'm going to take a shower before I lose my mind – he muttered, taking his first steps toward the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. – Then I'm arranging security for us.
– Security? – I said aloud, surprised. – Why?
He stopped, turned to face me, and lifted his gaze, looking at me with the eyes of a tired old man.
– The guy who nearly totaled my Bentley had curly blond hair – he replied in a grave tone.
YOU ARE READING
Butterfly's Year
Romance" - We are in a church, - I remarked sensibly. - Absolutely, - he agreed with a pleasant purr that vibrated between my legs. - Your parents are standing right there, - I whispered, discreetly pointing to his mom and dad standing in front of the alta...
