We are not going back

Chapter Nine

I headed back to the cabin, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. I locked myself in our room, trying to shut out the world. The silence was deafening, and I felt utterly alone. The only person who came to check on me was Oliver.

“Hey,” he said gently as he knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

I unlocked the door, and Oliver stepped inside. His presence was comforting, a small refuge from the storm. “You okay?” he asked, concern etched in his features.

“No,” I admitted. “Everything is just a mess. I’m so tired of all the drama.”

Oliver nodded sympathetically. “I get it. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t we go out tonight? Let’s forget all this for a while. There’s a place nearby that we can drink and just unwind.”

I looked at him, the idea of escaping the tension sounding incredibly tempting. “I’d like that,” I said, a small smile forming. “Thank you, Oliver.”

***

That evening, Oliver and I ventured out to the local bar, seeking a break from the chaos of the cabin. We drank and talked, the night air and alcohol offering a temporary reprieve from the emotional turmoil. As the evening wore on, the weight of the day began to lift, if only slightly, and for a brief moment, I felt a sense of normalcy amidst the turmoil.

“Hey, Eleonora,” Oliver slurred, leaning on the bar, “I think I’m seeing things.”

I squinted through the haze of my drunken stupor. “What do you mean?”

He pointed toward the entrance, his finger unsteady. “Is that… the President?”

I blinked, trying to focus. Sure enough, there was Kamala, walking in with her usual grace, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic scene inside the bar. My jaw dropped. “No way,” I said, trying to steady myself. “I must be seeing things. Do you also see her with like ten bodyguards?”

Kamala walked up to us, her presence commanding despite the noise and confusion around us. She stopped just a few feet away, her expression a mix of amusement and concern.

“Eleonora, Oliver,” Kamala said, her voice steady and clear. “We need to talk.”

Oliver looked at me with wide, incredulous eyes. “Is she real? This can’t be real.”

I rubbed my eyes, hoping the hallucination would disappear, but Kamala remained firmly in place. “Kamala? What are you doing here?”

Kamala sighed. “I came to find you. You both need to leave. Your presence is causing a scene.”

I blinked, still struggling to process the situation. “But… but we’re having a good time. Why do we need to leave?”

Oliver, leaning heavily on the bar, chimed in, “Yeah, we’re just—what’s the word—chillin’.”

Kamala raised an eyebrow. “You’re drunk and disruptive. This isn’t the place for you right now.”

I tried to focus, but the room was spinning slightly. “I don’t understand. Why are you here?”

Kamala crossed her arms, her patience wearing thin. “I’m here because I’m concerned. I’m going to call a cab for you two. You’re not in any state to make decisions right now. It will reflect badly on you both. The only reason why I am here and not one of my guards is because of the no cellphone policy.”

Oliver looked around, his confusion growing. “A cab? What’s a cab? Oh, you mean like a… a car? But we don’t need a car, we’re fine.”

Kamala shook her head, her lips curving into a small, exasperated smile. “No, you’re not fine. Trust me, it’s time to go.”

She pulled out her phone and started making arrangements, her calm demeanor a sharp contrast to the drunken chaos around us. As we fumbled with our coats and tried to regain some semblance of composure, Kamala stood by, her patience unyielding.

“Come on,” she said, guiding us towards the door. “Let’s get you home.”

Oliver stumbled beside me, his arm draped over my shoulder. “Kamala’s really here. This is crazy.”

I laughed, more out of nervousness than amusement. “Yeah, I guess this is really happening.”

As we shuffled out of the bar, Kamala’s quiet laughter followed us, her calm presence a steady anchor amidst our drunken disarray. We piled into the cab she had called, the reality of the situation slowly settling in, "You’re always saving me," I whispered, staring into her twinkling eyes.

"Don't make it a habit," She smiled as she closed the door.

***

When we arrived back at the cabin, Olivia was waiting for us, her demeanor surprisingly calm despite the chaos of the past few days. She stood in the foyer, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as we stumbled through the door.

“Hey, Olivia,” I mumbled, swaying slightly. “Kamala brought us back.”

"Oh, Jesus, help me," Olivia raised an eyebrow, her voice steady. “Kamala? Really?”

Oliver, leaning heavily against me, burst into a fit of giggles. “Yeah! She’s like… a lifesaver.”

Olivia’s calm facade didn’t falter as she turned to her sister. “Amelia, please make sure Oliver doesn’t choke on his own vomit. I don’t need any more drama tonight.”

Amelia nodded and went to check on Oliver, who was already slumped on the couch, snoring loudly. Olivia turned her attention back to me, her eyes softening with concern.

I swayed unsteadily, my mind racing through the events of the past few days. “Olivia, why did you let me stay with Kamala and Doug? I thought you’d at least come looking for me.”

Her calm exterior cracked slightly, and I noticed a flicker of hurt in her eyes. “Eleonora, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think you’d want to see me after everything and you don't like me chasing after you. Remember?”

"Unbelievable," I shook my head, tears welling up as my voice cracked. “But you didn’t even try. You just left me alone, like I was some stranger. What kind of wife does that?”

Olivia’s composure shattered, and she began to cry, her shoulders trembling. “I didn’t know what else to do. I felt like I was losing control, and I was scared.”

We stood there in silence, the weight of our words hanging heavily in the air. For the first time in years, Olivia and I were truly open with each other about our fears and insecurities. The shared pain was palpable, but neither of us knew how to move forward from here.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling about Kamala’s presence and her closeness with me. I saw Olivia’s eyes darting to me occasionally, a flicker of jealousy and discomfort crossing her face. She didn’t say anything, but the tension was clear.

Eventually, we both drifted off to bed, the emotional weight of our conversation heavy on our hearts. We lay in silence, the cabin filled with the sounds of the night, both of us lost in our thoughts about the future and the uncertain path ahead.