Return of a Broken Heart

One - Wish You Were Here

Angie couldn't leave her job. She just didn't have the nerve. She wasn't even gutsy enough to ask her boss for some time off. Of course she wouldn't have told him about the whole story. She didn't even tell him a part of the story. Not even one sentence of it. When she reached her boss's office, she couldn't muster the courage to knock the door. Wow, she really was a child. Luckily it was the weekend, so she could some time off. Time off that wasn't out of routine. She got out of the taxi and handed the driver his money. Perhaps a break in a hotel, somewhere different than her apartment, would clear her head.

She rolled her suitcase to the check in desk. They asked for her booking information and the usual protocol. She gave it. They gave her the room key. She smiled, said her thanks and proceeded to the lift. Time to go into her hotel room.

Two hours later, after she had freshened up, showered and unpacked her overnight sized bag, Angie got her room key, checked she had her purse and money and everything she needed and went to see if she could get a last minute shuttle bus into the centre of Paris. She only lived half an hour away from the location of the hotel. It was only just after mid-day. This brief hotel stay really was a desperate attempt to try and reconcile all the parts of her mind. That sounds deep and philosophical but knowing what she had been through in the last years, it wasn't something that hard to believe.

She didn't know why she wanted to take the bus. She had seen Paris, well - it's centre, about a thousand times, probably more. What's the craziest amount of times you can see the ins and outs of the city in just over a year? Did a thousand, or even a couple of thousand, sound like a ridiculous number? Probably not.

What she didn't know was that German had met someone else - and Violetta wasn't very happy about it. Neither was Ludmila. It was very rare that they agreed on something. This was a glorious, beyond glorious exception. German was doing the unthinkable, unacceptable and frankly, one of the most embarrassing and cringeworthy things that a father could do: he was dating his daughter's frenemy's mother. Violetta's father and Ludmila's mother were a couple. This was hard to believe. However it could be easier, depending on how much you knew about German and his fickle love life. It also depended on how much you knew him. Angie knew him very well. Better than anyone. Anyone, that was, except her sister. No one could know him better than her sister. She supposed that she could be a good second best.

Angie walked across the hotel's lobby, paying special attention to the rhythm of her footsteps. She was the only person in there at the moment, so it was a pleasure to listen to the acoustic sound that her feet made on the wooden floor. She looked up. It was a blink-or-miss-it-moment. She could swear that she just saw Violetta. It couldn't be. Violetta was back home in Argentina with German and everyone else she loved. The girl had all blonde hair and it was cut just above her shoulders. Violetta's wasn't that short. It was just below her shoulders if she remembered correctly. Without even realising it, Angie found herself staring at the girl. Intentionally, but not intentionally if that made sense. It was just that she looked so much like her. Hair aside, she walked like her. She wore shoes like her. Cute little platformed heels that looked like tap shoes on the front with tiny frilly socks. That was what Violetta wore. Probably not this girl.

Suddenly the girl turned to her. She paused as if trying to recollect Angie's identity. She looked her up and down. Once she reached her eyes, her face lit up. She smiled and called, "Angie!" It was Violetta.