Eva was out of town the night that I slept with Selena. I hadn't planned it- that is the truth. But as I mentioned before, I was caught in a rat race, taking any opportunity that I got.
I certainly don't want this testimony to turn into a description of all the women I've slept with- more important than the fact that my memory of it is a little drunken and blurry is that you get the idea, and so details are irrelevant. I do remember, though, that Selena grabbed hold of the chain around my neck while we were in the middle of it, and broke it from my neck in intensity and pleasure. I looked at that broken chain for months afterwards, and wondered if there was any symbolism in it...I don't know how Eva found out. I certainly didn't tell her. But she did find out...
"Hey babe...", I said cheerfully as I walked through her open front door the following weekend. Her house was quiet that Saturday morning, and I guessed she was alone, and I could hear her doing the washing up in the kitchen. I closed the door behind me, and as soon as I did I heard the kitchen tap turn off, and Eva, drying her hands, walked sternly round the corner wall that separated the living room and the kitchen, towards me...
"Hey...", she said, but before I could say anything, she just came out with it: "Someone told me that you slept with Selena. Did you?"
She stood, about 5 or 6 feet in front of me, still drying her hands, her face on the verge of thunder. She was intentionally out of my reach, and I knew that to move forwards towards her would only cause her to back away so that she could ask me the question again, more vigorously.
I tried to look confused and a little offended as I took off my jacket, my mind racing...
"What? No!", I lied, and waited for her response.
"So then why are people telling me they saw you go home together then?", she fired at me, her eyes a confused mix of hurt and fury.
I chucked my jacket on the sofa and stood facing her, my hands on my hips. "When...?", I stalled for time, avoiding her eye contact...
"The other Saturday, when I was out of town. They said that..."
"Who? WHO said that...?", I tried to buy myself some more time...
She looked at me suddenly with a mocking expression, realising what I was doing.
"It doesn't matter who! Did you do it?"
"NO!", I lied, defending myself to the last. I was determined not to back track, but it was hard considering that I'm a terrible liar, and in truth I've always hated doing it. It's a wonder why I so consistently got myself into situations whereby I felt that it was all I could do to save myself...
We fought about it all morning. She wouldn't reveal her sources, but apart from their testimony she had no real proof. It was my word against theirs, and while part of her KNEW the truth, the other part was persuasive enough to convince her that it WASN'T true...
And therein lay the problem with our relationship. Almost 3 years after this incident, in May 2013, I would meet up with Eva for the last time...
I remember that meeting as clearly as anything. She sat across from me at the crowded coffee bar that Saturday afternoon. She was 24 then, and I was 25. She was as sweet and kind and gentle as she'd been on the day I met her, and she looked back at me thoughtfully as I told her that I had a new girlfriend. She smiled, looking down to gather her thoughts, and when she looked back up at me, there was a hint of seriousness about her demeanor. She spoke earnestly as, putting her hand on mine to reinforce her point, she gave her only piece of advice to me:
"Just... don't lie to her, OK? Don't lie".
I looked back into her eyes at that moment, a little surprised that she hadn't said "Don't cheat on her, OK? Don't cheat". I smiled and nodded, and decided not to tell her that I thought she'd gotten it wrong...
It was only that night, lying in bed after a whole afternoon of reflection, that I realised what Eva had been trying to tell me. The cheating was one thing- if Eva had KNOWN for a fact that I'd been cheating on her all those years before, then she could have left me instantly, and never turned back. But because she hadn't KNOWN, or she hadn't been sure enough; because she had heard one thing from some people, and another thing from me; because I had concealed the truth from her, I had effectively trapped her in a relationship that she feared she might regret abandoning. I had twisted the truth, hidden it completely, given false witness... and in doing so, I'd not allowed her to fully move on from me. And that's why she'd stayed with me for so long, to her own destruction- because she believed that the lies I'd told her were true.
But these revelations were still years away. From that day in September 2010 when she first confronted me with the accusation about Selena onwards, our relationship was on a downward spiral. The trust was gone, and although there were still happy times that we spent together, they were far too short, infrequent, and easily broken. Although Eva could never PROVE my infidelity with Selena, she brought it up every time we fought, which was becoming more and more frequent. When we weren't fighting, I could see it eating away at her behind her gaze. Just when I thought I'd calmed her down, and she'd decided that it couldn't be true, something would set her off again to lead her back to the accusation.
I remember one time, we were watching a movie in which a guy cheated on his girlfriend. During the sudden sex-scene which showed his obvious adultery, Eva stood up suddenly, saying:
"All men- they're exactly the same..."
Straightening her shirt, she headed for the kitchen. I watched her go...
"What's THAT supposed to mean...?", I asked as she went, even though I knew what I was in for by doing so...
"You and Selena" she said, calmly from behind the corner of the kitchen "I know you two slept together".
"And HOW do you know that...?", I called after her, wondering if I could trick her into revealing her sources, maybe by convincing her that her argument had no weight to it unless she could name them.
A brief pause followed as she busied herself in the kitchen, putting plates away I guessed from the sound of it...
"I just do...", she said in a small voice, a slight crack in it... and it was easy to imagine her wiping the built-up tears on her eyelids with her sleeve in a little attempt to try and compose herself...
---
After Selena, there were no more incidents like it. The first reason was that Eva kept a watchful eye on me, throwing accusations at me at the slightest hint of evidence that I'd cheated on her since. I realised she had become paranoid, but then her mental anguish was a monster of my own creating. The second, and far more significant reason, was that I did feel sorry for what I'd done. I felt guilty and ashamed. In fact, I forgot to mention before; Eva had called me on the day after I'd slept with Selena. Selena had left that same morning, a little giggly and awkward knowing that she'd slept with her friend's boyfriend (I didn't expect to have any contact from her for at least a few days...), Eva was still out of town, and I was alone in my bedroom. Eva had called, and I'd answered cheerfully, genuinely happy to hear from her. We'd spoken for a long time- I had asked her how her trip had been, she'd told me about the places she'd visited and said she could see why I liked travelling so much...
We'd spoken for a couple of hours, as if we hadn't spoken in years, even though it had only been a couple of days since we last saw each other. When I'd eventually hung up the phone, I'd started to cry. I had been reminded by that phone call of WHY I'd fallen for Eva in the first place, so they'd started out as tears of appreciation for her. I'd wiped away teardrop after teardrop as each one had started to roll down my cheek... but each teardrop had another one already following it... Slowly though, I thought about all the ways she'd taken care of me, been there for me, hugged me and held me when I'd needed her, stayed with me through all of it- through the moving countries, through the anger, through the cheating. Despite all the negative things I'd put into our relationship, she was still there, willing and wanting to have a 2 hour conversation with me, her boyfriend who she loved; her boyfriend who had just slept with her friend. And for the next hour or so, I'd cried because of how unfair it was that a woman like Eva should be partnered with a man as undeserving as me.
We were both foolish- me for what I did, and her for forgiving me on the multiple times she found out. The difference: she was foolish and in love with her first real boyfriend. I was foolish and in love with my own needs, and nothing else.
-
I was actually incredibly lucky when I first left my home country, in November 2008 at aged 21, and landed in this new one. Having completed my 1 month intensive teaching course, I had been teaching at the same company (with the exception of the three months in another country... in which time I'd met Francesca...). And this company loved me. Tim and, more importantly, Karl, had taken an instant shine to my positive attitude about the job, the work-load, the high expectations from the students. I was young, and fresh from their own teaching course. They saw great potential in me. And, without blowing my own trumpet, they were right to do so. I was supremely grateful to them for giving me the ability to prove to myself, as well as to the world that I'd left behind in my home country, that I could live, work and sustain myself abroad.
Because of this, I taught extra classes. I never complained. I was never late, and I never took a sick-day. I had no gripes against the management, partly because I felt such appreciation for the experience of the last year that they'd allowed me to have... but also, I was in tune with their thinking. I understood, better even than maybe I do now at this later stage of life, what was important to them, and why it was important to them. Karl wanted happy students- content students were students who came back, who told their friends about the academy... who made it grow. That was the be all and end all of the company... and as long as you were on board with that, and willing to work towards that goal, then you could find, as I found, a happy place to work.
Karl saw potential in me, and nurtured that. I was promoted quickly, and within almost a year, I was preparing to take on a more senior role as a teacher-trainer...
At the beginning of November of that year, about two months after I turned 23, Tim called me into his office, and formally announced that I'd be leaving the country at the start of January the following year...
"It's happening, then?", I asked with a more-than-subtle undertone of excitement. "We're doing the January course in the new office...?"
Tim was looking at his computer screen from behind his desk. I could see from the reflection in his glasses that he was almost entirely focused on the message he'd just received from Karl, his (and my) boss. I could tell from his sudden seriousness that it wasn't news that Tim was glad to receive... But my boyish excitement momentarily distracted him, and he smiled, his eyes still on the screen, his handsome late-40's face slowly turning more towards me. Although his eyes were still focused on the screen, they flicked to me for a second as he said:
"Yeah! Well, we're going to try... You'll be up there from January... probably for the rest of the year!", he said smiling, his eyes flicking back again to the computer screen...
"That's awesome!" I exclaimed, although was already trying to work out how I'd break it to Eva..."So, I'll be leading it?", I confirmed...
"You'll be in charge, yeah...", said Tim, a bit more relaxed now, taking off his glasses and letting them rest on his chest. He put his hands folded behind his head, as he said "Talk with Billy in accounting this week- he'll book your flights for you".
"They're moving me to the new office..."... I explained to Eva that evening after my meeting with Tim, as we walked in the cold streets towards my house. Street sellers tried to get some last minute sales for the day- local paintings, traditional instruments... even just photos of them wearing traditional dresses and holding baby animals. I brushed them off- they didn't even speak to Eva , seeing as she was clearly a local. Eva spoke very little. Outside of my front door, she stood on the doorstep, waiting for me to unlock the door from behind her. I was in the middle of explaining something in my excitement about the new country I was going to live in...
"...And Billy says that it's close to volcanoes..."...
As soon as the key clicked and the door latch opened, Eva span round. Tears were building up in her eyes as she looked straight at me and said:
"So, you're leaving me again?"
...before she pushed the door fully open and entered my house...
-
I don't think I will ever forget the incident I'm about to tell you about. It happened nearly 2 months later, at the beginning of January 2011. To an ordinary bystander, it must have looked like a man in his early 20's sitting slightly glumly with his cellphone to his ear at a table in an airport departure lounge.
What it was to ME, though, was the sound of my then girlfriend coming to terms with who and what I was...
Through the receiver of my cellphone, I felt the blood drain from my head, as I heard Eva force out, between sobs:
"I found the letter you wrote to 'Francesca'..."
---
Tom growled as he came up behind me, and got me in an unusually aggressive headlock. Although part of him had meant for it to be playful, I could feel from the strength of his grip and the duration for which the headlock lasted that, more than for any attempt at male bonding, he was doing it to impress those around him. Particularly Precious.
I had been walking slightly ahead of the group, not caring about the rain which was only now just showing signs of slowing down. Bright sunshine occasionally broke through the clouds, but I hated sunshine at that time. The sun being out always made me feel guilty for staying inside, on my own, reading, or playing video games alone. Normally sat in my bedroom, I would hear kids whooping and yelling down the street, heading in wild and slightly threatening gangs on their bikes and scooters towards the park close to my house. As they went past, I'd watch them through the window, until they were fully out of view. Once they'd turned the corner that made my street an arch, then I'd go back to whatever I'd been doing, glad that the interruption was over. I was, in many ways, such an unusual young man.
Although the initial shock of Tom's arm around my neck had jolted me a little, it hadn't really surprised me. Tom was often doing stuff like this for laughs- headlocks, pushing people into oncoming pedestrians and pretending to apologise, spitting on the seats of parked bikes and convincing his gang of friends to wait around, smirking and chuckling, to watch the owner return and be faced with the humiliating choice of wiping it off or sitting on it and bearing it.
From my stooped position in the headlock, I could hear he was saying something loudly, either to me or to the rest of the group, but his bicep was squeezing into my ear, and I could only make out a muffling sound. I heard at least a few of the group erupt with laughter, though. Instead of letting my arms hang loosely, which was the mood I was in, I decided to make a bit of a show at resistance. I put one hand into the small of his back, and the other under his elbow, and tried to slip out from under his arm...
Mercifully, in an unusually kind gesture, Tom released me almost immediately as soon as I did this. I guess he got bored- either that, or Precious was elsewhere, on her phone, not paying attention to him. As I stood up, I could feel that my hair was out of place on both sides, and I made a hurried effort to flatten it into a respectable position until I had a chance to do it more properly, perhaps in a car mirror, or a shop window...
Nobody seemed to be mentioning the homeless man. There were 4 or 5 separate groups of about 6 people, all doing and laughing about there own thing, but from what I could tell, none of them seemed to have acknowledged any wrong-doing, or even that it had happened at all. I stood, kind of amazed, kind of unsure what to do now. Could I just slip away, without anyone noticing and asking where I was going? I wanted to go- I wanted to get as far away from those people who'd been complicit in that horrible action as I could. But I resigned morosely that there was no way they'd let me leave- there's no way TOM would let me leave without having me suffer SOME form of humiliation...
My feet dragging a little, I went over to where Tom was now leaning on Precious' shoulder flirtatiously, as she chewed gum, blew the occasional bubble, and texted furiously on her phone...
"You'll come, won't you?", Tom looked cockily down at me from his superior height, his chin turned up in a look of dominance which meant that he peered down at me from above his high cheekbones. Precious kept chewing vigorously, and didn't look up from her texting, and I could feel the eyes of the rest of the men watching, waiting for my answer...
"Where?", I asked.
One of the men made a comment, which made the rest laugh gruffly, and Tom fitted in the words "The forest..." before looking up at the man who'd said whatever joke it was, and pushed him jokingly, a smile wiped across his face. The huge, bald man backed away, red faced and still laughing to himself...
Tom tried to compose himself, but was still smiling from the joke when he addressed me again:
"The forest", he'd repeated, and didn't wait for my answer before he'd shouted:
"COME HERE YOU MUG!"
to an unidentified acquaintance in the distance, over the heads of his friends who stood opposite.
"Yeah... sure thing...", I said, less than confidently...
It was those words that caused Precious to look up from her phone. From the other side of Tom, who was still trying to beckon his friend over, she looked right into my eyes...
For less than a second, I thought that I'd had boiling water thrown all over me. Also in under a second, I recognised that it was in fact freezing water. Upon opening my eyes to the pain, the image of Precious looking at me, Tom shouting for his friend to join us, and the men all looking behind him to see who he was talking to, evaporated entirely. I gasped for air, and spat immediately onto the floor as my captor stood in front of me, the bucket she'd used to drench me from head to toe in ice-cold water still hanging loosely in her hand...
The water was dripping from my hair as I let my head fall forwards, and I could feel myself already starting to shiver. My teeth were chattering.
"I brought you..."... I was amazed to hear her speak so casually, but in far too much of a shock to respond or interrupt her. I waited for her to continue, hearing her footsteps cross the stone floor over the chattering of my teeth...
"... a present!", she said with clear delight, and waited for me to look up.
It took me a couple of seconds to register what she'd said, and it was only once the silence became awkward that it dawned on me that she was trying to get my attention...
I looked up through my eyebrows at her...
Birds outside the high cell window were chirping aggressively, probably fighting over a worm or a leaf, or just marking their territory. It seemed ironic that something as free as a bird should be a witness to me, my chained and half-naked body strapped to that cell wall that morning, I thought...
My captor's face was glowing with pride, and it annoyed me that that was one of her most attractive facial expressions.
"Ta-dah!" she said with mock-showmanship as she directed her hands to the television on the wall opposite. It was huge, and incongruent in that backwards, ancient castle. She kept smiling, her teeth showing- I could tell from my peripheral vision- and when I flicked my eyes back to her face she raised her eyebrows and extended her smile even further.
I breathed, and said nothing. My mouth hung slightly open, my jaw slack. I closed my eyes, and allowed my head to flop forwards, my chin resting on my chest...
A few minutes later, I was jolted out of a semi-state of sleep by the slamming of the cell door, and I could hear my captor's quick footsteps echoing down the hall. It instantly occurred to me that she'd gotten bored of me ignoring her. "Where is the fun if I constantly have to fight for his attention?", she'd probably thought. She'd wanted me to talk to her, to say anything to her, to show some way that I either wanted her or hated her. Any kind of interaction would have done... but since I hadn't provided this, I guess she'd stormed off in a huff...
I was still getting used to the new site of the T.V. on the opposite cell wall. Even in the rapidly fading light, it wasn't camouflaged into the murky grey of the wall it was secured onto. I stared at it, hating myself for having asked for it, and hating my captor even more for having provided it. My jaw was clenched in rage and frustration, and I was shaking, partly because of the cold water all over my skin that I was still enduring, and partly from the annoyance I had towards myself for having accepted this token- a sign of my capitulation to my captor's will, and an indication that I wasn't fully in control of my actions...
The room lit up brightly in a split second, as the T.V. turned itself on...
