the Vampire's Mistress part two

page 57

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 Sometime later, i found the strength to wrest myself away from the scene that was being unfolded before my eyes.  i couldn't stand to see what may be coming next, so before either Clara or Mark could unglue themselves from each other, i headed back to the car.  the shopping bags i left on the butler's care.   i instructed the driver to take an aimless cruise around the city streets.

it didn't matter where we go, just as long as it took me far away from Mark and the horrible image of them and Clara locked in each other's arms and in so intimate a manner.

God, i've been so stupid!  to not realize what should have been perfectly obvious :

that Mark and Clara weren't childhood friends, but long time lovers who had now been reunited again.

it all made sense now.

why Clara seem unusually desperate to be closer to Mark, the wistful note in her voice whenever she speaks of him, and how enormously affected she was by Mark's sarcasm.

it explained Mark's secretive behaviour, and reluctance to meet Clara's eyes.   they were both careful not to risk revealing the truth behind their real relationship.

but why they didn't just confess it to me straight out was a puzzle to me,

then decided it wouldn't change anything.  unless it would make the pain of betrayal more easy to bear---

i slammed my fist in frustration at the back of my seat.

betrayal?  why should i care that Mark had chosen Clara over me? we aren't even friends, much less a couple.

why was there another vicious twist of what was left of my heart?

and why was i hurting so badly for something that should have been insignificant to me?

the answer struck me straight between the eyeballs with a swiftness of  an arrow :

because i had foolishly, unknowingly, fallen in love with Mark.

despite my efforts to avoid it.    

if i hadn't been so damn blind and stupid, i would have realized that the growing tenderness and longing for his presence was more than the pull of physical attraction i had for him.

but something much, much deeper.

and i was payong dearly for that mistake right now, i thought, as tears of anger and frustration streamed down my face.

i was Goddamn idiot for even daring to hope that Mark could possibly want me, when he already loves someone as exquisitely beautiful as Clara?

i hated crying, crying was for the weak, cowards.   and tears were a cleansing miracle reserved only for real sorrows. i cried only a  couple of times in my life.

one, when i realized that my father existed, but was already dead. and the second, when Jenna, my eldest sister, left home to marry her greek boyfriend.

i had mourned their absence in my life, could i say the same for Mark?

for once, i was grateful that it was Khan, not Cyrille who was on duty to guard me tonight.

for while i was fonder of the easy-going manner of the former, it was the unquestioning, impersonal nature of Khan which suited my mood, to be left alone, with only the privacy of  my own thoughts to keep me company.

at last, when i had exhausted myself with crying, and determined to do something to assuage the ache inside me, i did something i would never imagine myself doing--- step inside a crowded bar.