Drawn to Life (8 page)

Chapter 12

Mia—Let Me Sleep

Budapest, June 2012

I made my way toward the station’s exit. I had deliberately chosen Budapest as my first stop. The city was familiar and held warm memories, although it seemed an eternity had passed since I’d last been here

I had spent half a semester here during college. Many of my classmates had chosen to go to an English-speaking country, but I’d wanted to stay close to my family. And close to Christoph.

While it wasn’t just a hop between Graz and Budapest, it was not as far away as the UK or somewhere overseas.

Spending time in Hungary had turned out to be the right decision. I’d had many experiences that’d proved valuable, both for my career and for life in general. I’d been on my own for the first time and learned to fend for myself.

I’d loved the city, and it hadn’t taken long to find new companions. I hadn’t always been the recluse I was now.

On my first day there, I’d met Kriszta, who would become one of my best friends. She’d worked in the cafe below the tiny apartment I’d rented for four months.

That day, I’d planned to grab a coffee, then explore the neighborhood, but I’d not left the place until after closing because the two of us had instantly hit it off.

We’d been strangers, but it sure hadn’t felt that way. She’d been so easy to talk with; her German was excellent, which had helped. We’d hung out almost daily after that, but sadly, we’d lost touch after I’d returned home.

I wondered whether she still worked in the cafe and decided to swing by after I settled in.

I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the hotel I’d booked. I couldn’t afford much, although I was craving the comfort of a nice place. That craving intensified when I entered the hotel room and saw the bed. Maybe I should shell out more the next time, I thought.

I was so tired I decided I didn’t care. All I wanted was to lie down and shut my eyes, although I’d slept for hours on the train.

I tossed the backpack in a corner and threw myself onto the squeaking, metal-framed bed. The yellowing sheets, which may have been white at some point in the past, were itchy and stiff. I felt every single spring in the mattress but couldn’t be bothered to lodge a protest. I was exhausted. I wanted only to sleep—and not dream of anything unsettling.

Unfortunately, Samuel’s dark gaze haunted me, and tired as I was, I still had trouble drifting off. Why couldn’t I let go of his image? Why couldn’t I just forget his eyes? They seemed so familiar, as if they saw straight into me and knew my deepest secrets. My biggest fears. On the train, anxiety had nearly overwhelmed me as usual, but when I’d looked into his eyes, I’d grown entirely relaxed.

Why him? He had seemed so nice and kind, so different from the rumors that followed him. Maybe I shouldn’t have been so judgmental. Maybe I should have changed my attitude for the sake of making a new connection. But my inner self had screamed, demanding I leave the stranger alone. Everyone was barred from entering my world.

I lay awake thinking about Samuel for a long time before a restless sleep finally descended.

Chapter 13

Samuel—Many Mistakes

Budapest, June 2012

Damn it . . . Why had I let her slip away? Why hadn’t I managed to really talk to her? Back on the train, I’d been so bemused when she finally did speak to me, I’d hardly made sense, so no wonder she’d likely not even registered a word of what I’d said, even though I’d been right across the aisle.

I’d waited for a reaction from her, but there’d been only a few harsh words. Then she’d slept like the dead, legs tucked up. Only when I’d examined her carefully could I see she was still breathing.

I worked to stop staring, as I had for the entire trip. Some ancestor definitely had passed down stalker genes to me. Looking for distraction, I grabbed my guitar, leaned back, and played some random melodies, stopping every now and then to scribble notes on a piece of paper. And finally, the train reached Budapest.

Budapest was one of the few major cities in Europe I’d never visited, so I thought it an ideal starting point for my travels.

I grabbed my things, then my glance fell on her again. She was still sleeping. I didn’t want to leave her there, so vulnerable and alone. Likely nobody else would bother to wake her, except maybe the conductor. I hesitated, then decided I couldn’t let the opportunity to talk with her one last time pass.

Gently, I shook her shoulder until she opened her eyes. Dark had fallen. The light overhead glared into her eyes. She blinked, then she actually talked to me. I mean, she had to—how could she continue ignoring a guy who was stalking her, right? It seemed as if I had internalized some of my father’s lectures on perseverance.

When we reached the exit, she turned, and in a voice sweet as honey, said, “Thank you for waking me up.” She jumped down the steps and hurried off so fast, she was almost running. That didn’t stop me from calling “You’re welcome” after her.

Abruptly, she stopped and looked back at me. Looking sheepish, she said, “You know, I’m sorry for being so rude. I . . . I guess I just don’t like anyone seeing my drawings.”

She’d apologized for my behavior! She hadn’t needed to.

I assured her I deserved every bit of her anger, then smiled at her. “Let’s just start from the beginning. I’m Samuel Winter. You can call me Sam,” I said and extended my hand. Quickly, she tucked hers behind her back, her face turning ashen. Her lips curved into an artificial smile. But she spoke. “I’m Mia Lang.”

Mia. The name suited her perfectly. I still wore my smile, and I asked her whether she was staying in Budapest or continuing elsewhere. She turned and left without answering.

Not knowing what to make of her behavior, I felt even more curious than I had before. I decided I’d look her up online after I reached my hotel. Maybe I’d find some answers.

Outside the station, cabs waited in a long row. I told the driver to take me to whatever first-class hotel he’d recommend, that expense was not a problem. The only thing I wanted was the availability of breakfast in the morning. Since this had all been a last-minute decision, I’d done no planning. I simply wanted to disappear from my life for a while, a life that had been chained to an agenda for far too long. I’d arrived at my first stop, Budapest. Right now, that’s all I needed to know.

The cab dropped me off at a place downtown. The room was spacious—unnecessarily spacious. After all, only I’d be sleeping here. The advantage of a good hotel, though, was that I could order room service anytime. I picked up the phone; I was starving.

After I’d eaten, I fell into bed like a stone. It was late, past eleven. I wanted to get up early and explore the city.

Yet I couldn’t fall asleep, despite the comfortable bed with its soft mattress, huge pillow, and freshly scented duvet.

Too many thoughts raced through my head. Thoughts I wanted to avoid. Thoughts I couldn’t erase. How could I have taken a job, loaned my face and my reputation to an enterprise, even my dad’s, that was so underhanded? I hated myself for my decisions, the decisions that had compelled me to take this trip, and for not examining my father’s methods more carefully. I swore never to do anything like that again. But I couldn’t change the past. Still, realizing how ignorant, how selfish I’d been made me even angrier at myself. I tossed and turned. I hurled one of the pillows against the wall. Grabbed my hair. Felt a lump in my throat. I didn’t want to think about the past any longer. Didn’t want to shed any more tears. Had I answered the damned phone only once . . .

I would have known.

I should have known.

I needed to tune out my thoughts. I tried to chill out. But I couldn’t. Not only did my thoughts trouble me, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw emerald green eyes. Their brilliance haunted me.

I had to find Mia again.

Chapter 14

Mia—Why Can’t I Find Peace and Quiet?

Budapest, June 2012

The night was exhausting. I couldn’t sleep. Usually, I was so dead to the world that I wouldn’t wake if a bomb exploded next to my bed. But the motel-room bed was a joke. Plus, people were partying in the streets. Doors slammed in the corridor. Beds squeaked. My head throbbed like crazy. And my thoughts . . . Horrible thoughts of the past kept me awake. I hoped the next day would be better.

In the morning, I tugged a fresh shirt, my jean shorts, and my travel kit out of my backpack before I hurried into the bathroom. It was too hot for long pants. I was thankful the bathroom was adjacent to my room, so I could avoid other people staying on the same floor. I needed privacy. I didn’t want anyone seeing my scars. Not the one on my right lower arm. Not the huge one on my stomach. Not the other smaller ones that pocked my body. The majority had healed into white ridges, but a few still shimmered with pink and reminded me of the most painful days. Whenever I was about to stumble off of the path toward a better life, I found myself scratching them. Maybe it was a nervous gesture, but it reminded me of where I never wanted to go again.

I stayed in the shower for a long time and let the warm water run down my body. It felt good, and I was able to relax. At least as long as I didn’t have to touch my flesh. Washing my hair, or whatever you wanted to call the short feathers on my scalp, was still difficult.

After I got out of the shower I wrapped a peach-colored towel around my bony body. The sense of well-being I’d felt in the shower was already fading.

After dressing, I returned to my room and hastily stuffed all my belongings back into the backpack, then struggled with the zipper, wondering how they’d all possibly fit in there before. Once I’d gotten it closed, I shouldered the heavy thing and walked downstairs to the front desk.

“I’d like to check out please,” I told the lady at the reception. She looked at me quizzically.

“Pay please,” I tried again.

She just shook her head and raised her eyebrows.

Somewhere in a dark corner of my brain, I searched for what was left of my Hungarian.

“Fizetni kèrem,” I stammered.

“Igen, igen,”
she smiled cheerfully and wrote the amount on a piece of paper.

I wandered the streets of Budapest. I knew the squares and tourist sites and didn’t spend much time in any one place. Being here didn’t make me happy, after all. Every corner brought back memories of better days, so many I wanted to cry. I started scratching at my scars again. My feet hurt. It was hot. I wanted to leave.

I rested for a while on a bench by a fountain in the city center near Váci Street, the famous pedestrian zone. Feeling exhausted, I leaned my head against the backpack and closed my eyes, hoping to find some peace. The sun shone on my face. It was a lovely June day. With my eyes still shut, I stretched out my legs and relaxed. The street wasn’t very busy. Lost in my own world, I let the soft conversation and laughter around me mingle with my thoughts. I made up stories to match the voices, imagining the people they belonged to. I loved getting lost in those kinds of fantasies. They allowed me to disappear from this planet and slip into my own universe, where I could stop being myself.

I relaxed my arms and let my nails trail over the hard surface of the bench. Suddenly, my fingers encountered divots in the wood. Heart suddenly pounding, I opened my eyes, blinking until I’d again grown used to the sunshine.

Then I looked down. After all those years, the carving was still there. I caught my breath. I would not find peace and quiet today.

Chapter 14 ½

Mia—I Love You too, Christoph.

Budapest, January 2009

My first week in Budapest was over. I enjoyed being away from home, yet I missed my parents, sister, and especially Christoph.

How was I supposed to live four months without him? We would see each other sporadically, but we couldn’t afford to travel back and forth every weekend. We had to make this separation work somehow.

That Sunday in January, I’d planned to see my new friend, Kriszta, on her day off. She wanted to treat me to a private sightseeing tour, including the nightlife.

Half an hour before we were to meet, someone knocked on the door. I was wearing only a towel as I applied my makeup in the tiny bathroom.

“I’ll be right there!”

I threw on panties, a bra, and black leggings and then ran to the door. Without checking the peephole first, I opened it—and squealed with joy.

“Chris! What are you doing here?” I flung my arms around his neck.

He lifted me off the ground and whirled us around. Then he kissed my neck. “I wanted to surprise you. I guess I succeeded.” He smiled at me.

“Oh yes, you did.” I smiled back and kissed his lips.

He kept grinning and stroked my naked back. Goose bumps broke out all over my body.

“Mimi, why are you half-naked? Let’s get you inside before your neighbors see you.” He hugged me, dragged me into the apartment, and slammed the door.

I giggled. “Hey, that was too loud!”

Christoph held me tighter and slowly pulled me to him until our mouths almost touched. He still wore a sweet smile. “Well, actually I don’t care. I like you half-naked,” he murmured.

I enjoyed the feel of his rough lips on mine. The stubble on his chin scraped lightly across mine. My heart sped up, quickened by desire, as I closed my eyes and inhaled his aroma. I would have recognized the scent anywhere. I loved the mix of sandalwood soap and his cologne.

“I missed you,” I whispered against his chest.

“I missed you more.”

He kissed me softly. Our tongues touched, and I dug my hands deep into his blond hair.

“Hey, hey. Slowly, Mimi.” He laughed against my mouth and stopped kissing me. He took my hand and led me to a small faded red loveseat, sat down, and pulled me onto his lap. But I sprang back up and moved off, halting a few steps away. He raised his eyebrows.

“I just want to get dressed,” I said, gesturing toward the bathroom door behind me.

When I came back, I was wearing my long beige sweater and gray boots. I sat down beside him. “What are you doing here, Christoph?”

“Not much to understand. I wanted to see you, that’s all. You don’t want me here?”

“Of course.” I leaned closer to kiss his cheek. “I’m glad—excited—you’re here. I just didn’t think I’d see you the first weekend we’re apart.”

“You’re expecting someone else?”

“Actually, yes. I told you about Kriszta. She should be here any minute,” I said. “You can come. I’m sure she won’t mind. I’m sure we’ll have fun exploring the city, the three of us. Or I could just cancel. I hope she doesn’t live far. I only know she works in the cafe downstairs.” I knew I was rambling, thinking aloud.

“Mia, don’t worry,” he said and smiled at me. “I found her on Facebook and let her know I was coming to surprise you. After you told me about her, I got in touch with her and asked whether she had any sightseeing tips so that I could show you around. She arranged the tour with you for my sake. I didn’t think I’d be here this early, but I didn’t want to wait half an hour in front of your door. I had to knock.”

I fell on him, arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss. “You are so sweet! Thank you!”

“Oh, I know.”

I poked him.

“Let’s get going. I have a lot to show you. If I can find everything.”

Christoph led me around all the most popular sites. I was so glad I was getting to first see them with him and nobody else.

We strolled down Váci Street. At a fountain we decided to take a breather and sat down on a nearby bench. It was already late afternoon; Chris wouldn’t be able to stay overnight because he had class the following day.

“I have to go soon. It’s been great seeing you. I can’t wait for our next weekend,” Chris said, sounding sad.

I gazed deep into his dark chocolate–colored eyes and whispered, “It won’t be so long. In two weeks, I’ll be home for an entire weekend for Anna’s birthday.”

We smiled at each other.

“Very soon,” I whispered. Chris kissed my forehead and took my hands in his. I looked down at our entwined fingers. I liked the feel of his callused skin. I liked his touch. I felt a blissful warmth flood through me. Chris withdrew one hand, and with his index finger, he tilted up my chin so he could and look into my eyes.

“Mia . . .” He took a deep breath. “Mimi, you are so beautiful.”

I bit my lower lip.

“Stop doing that; you’ll ruin your lips,” he said with his sweetest smile. I stopped chewing immediately. He stroked his thumb over my mouth. “Much better. You know, Mimi, I’ve thought a lot about us during the past week. I don’t like being so far apart.” He lowered his gaze briefly, took my other hand again, and continued, “I miss you so much. I don’t want you to go away ever again.” His face neared. His thigh touched mine. I could feel the heat from his body, and a shiver ran down my spine at the same moment the hair on my arms stood up. “My Mimi. I’m so glad to have you. I never want this to end. OK?”

I could only nod. Tears shot to my eyes and threatened to run down my face.

“Hey, don’t cry,” he said softly. “This was supposed to be a moment of bliss.”

“Only blissful tears,” I said quickly.

He looked so happy. He leaned his forehead against mine. Our quickened breaths mingled, sending little steam clouds floating through the winter air around us. He took my face in his hands and stroked my cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you, Mia!”

My breath caught, and my heart beat loud in my ears. I felt the smile on my face stretch.

“Yes, you heard correctly.” He kissed the tip of my nose and repeated, “I love you, Mimi.”

“I love you too, Christoph,” I answered. I couldn’t spill out the words fast enough. My mind and my body were in turmoil. I’d waited so long for this moment, and now it was here. More perfect than I’d imagined. In this wonderful foreign city, as snowflakes swirled around us and the sun tried to break through the clouds, we sealed the memory with a kiss.

“Let’s immortalize this moment,” he said. He let go of my hands and looked about, searching for something.

“This one here is perfect,” he finally said, and showed me the sharp stone he’d picked up. He lowered himself back on the bench and began carving into the wood.

I watched him closely, happily.

“This will be an
M
,” he smiled and pressed the stone deeper into the wood. “And now a
C
. And . . . a heart.”

I ran my finger along the fresh carvings, then leaned closer and whispered into his ear, “It’s amazing.” I laid a hand along his cheek to turn his head until we were again looking at each other. “I love you, Christoph.”

“I love you too, Mia.”