Despair of an imaginary presence

      Nemi sat down on the edge of the bed, where Einar was already lying under the blanket. She tried to breathe deeply and slowly to calm the pounding heart in her chest. The corners of her eyes still stung unpleasantly, and her eyes themselves were dry, forcing her to blink more often. Nemi looked at her slightly trembling hands, at the stone in the ring gleaming in the lamplight. Heart never stopped racing.       “I’m not forcing you, you know?”       Nemi turned around, tucking one leg under herself.       “I know.”       She studied him. For the first time since they met, she saw him in a completely informal setting. No costume, no elegance, no etiquette, no forced politeness. A simple guy in the most ordinary T-shirt, in the simplest pyjama pants, with a loose ponytail and under a blanket.       Nemi climbed onto the bed, sitting up, leaning on the headboard, and bent her knees. She still didn’t take her eyes off him. Neither did he.       “You have beautiful hair.”       She reached out to touch them but, changing her mind, put her hand by her side. Einar wanted to say that she could touch but decided not to push her even harder.       “Why don’t you ever let it down?”       He ran his fingers through his hair and tucked them behind his ear on one side.       “It’s more practical this way.”       “Got it.”       Nemi exhaled and, too, but more nervously, tucked her hair behind her ears. She reached for the bedside table to turn off the light. Perhaps it would be easier to get under someone else’s blanket in the dark. Without thinking twice, Einar turned off the lamp from his side, too. Nodding several times to her thoughts, Nemi crawled under the blanket. She lay on her side, facing away from Einar.       “Good night.”       “Good night, Nemi.”       She had a distinct feeling of betrayal, which she still could not get rid of. She knew that all Hoshi wanted for her was an opportunity to move on. But every time she started to get close to someone, a monstrously huge cloud of guilt came over her. Guilt for the other man next to her, guilt for feelings, guilt that she could not devote her life only to Hoshi, and guilt of the survivor. She was drowning in her studies, work and grief, at the same time severing almost all ties, especially those that could lead to relationships that went beyond friendship. Two years of loneliness, grief and continuous work, just not to think. But here, lying in someone else’s bed, next to a man she hardly knew, it was impossible not to think. She thought she could do it. It seemed like two years was enough time to permit herself to move on. But how could you? How could you erase love from your memory? How was it possible to blot out all the things that—       “Please, hug me,” said Nemi very quietly, afraid that someone might hear her.       She interrupted the endless stream of thoughts, hoping that Einar could become someone who would be able to close her mind with a heavy bolt to make her life easier.       At first, he thought he was imagining things. But something in the silence said that everything was real. He, too, turned on his side moved over to Nemi and put his arms around her, pulling her by the waist a little closer to him. He felt how confused she began to breathe, how her body tensed. But she only covered his hand with hers.       Betrayal. A terrible, unforgivable betrayal. She wanted to escape, storm out of the room and lock herself in the bathroom, washing away other people’s touches. Betrayal. A painful betrayal.       Nemi squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back tears.       “Tighter.”       Einar hugged her tighter, now feeling the desperately fast beating of her heart. He raised himself, leaning on his elbow, and with the same hand touched her hair on top of her head. He removed one strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear. He began methodically, very carefully stroking her head, combing her hair just a little.       Over time, he felt her body relax, her pulse slowing, her breathing becoming even. She fell asleep.       She fell asleep in his arms.       “I need to leave for a while, I’ll be back soon. And you go to sleep.”       Nemi opened her heavy, sticky eyelids with difficulty. Still, with one foot in the grip of sleep, she saw a slightly muddy image of Einar. He was dressed and assembled. She turned her head. It was 5:34 a.m. on the clock. Nodding, she closed her eyes again, unable to keep her eyelids open any longer. Nemi felt a touch on the top of her head and fell asleep again.       The sleep was heavy but deep. Finally, she woke up only after an hour and a half, which left not much time for morning preparations for work. Waking up alone today was almost as painful as it was two years ago.       She went to Einar’s bathroom to wash her hair and wash off the remnants of the day. Maybe it all was in vain? Maybe it wasn’t worth it after all? She rubbed her skin with a washcloth, and washed the shampoo from her hair, still feeling his touch, but did not understand if she wanted to wash them off.       Nemi got out of the shower and dressed, wrapping a towel around her hair. There was an hour left before leaving. She squealed as she came out of the bathroom.       “Who the hell are you?!”       “I have the same question.”       “You broke into the house and still have the audacity not to answer?”       “I didn’t break into the house, I used the key.”       She silently looked at the guy sprawled on the bed, assessing the situation. He was wearing a shirt with the first buttons carelessly unbuttoned, and trousers. A jacket was lying next to him. His eyes were covered by black-blue hair that fell over his forehead. He was looking at the phone, not even bothering to look at her.       “You don’t believe me?” after a pause he said. “Would you like us to go downstairs, close the door behind me and let me use my key again?”       He put down his phone and looked sceptically at Nemi.       “Why should I trust a stranger?”       “Don’t you think that if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it while you were in the shower?”       “So you watched me wash?” She crossed her arms, looking at him expectantly.       “No, I was waiting for you to exit. I was dying to figure out: are you the new maid who decided to soak up in my brother’s bathroom, or an extremely weird thief?” he grinned, watching her reaction. “Plus, you should lock the door: in case anyone comes in and wants to watch.”       “Brother?” Nemi frowned, remembering Einar’s words. “I… better call Einar.”       “Einar?” he smiled with interest. “Not Mr. Brandt? How interesting.”       “I think you’d better come back later.”       “Oh, no, now I think I came just at the right time.”       Nemi exhaled indignantly, returning to the bathroom to remove the towel that was already saturated with moisture. The young man stood in the doorway, watching her.       “What do you want from me?” she looked at him through the mirror, he was smiling.       “You are not a maid and probably not a thief. So who are you? Fancy lady? Although no, the thief sounds much more plausible.”       “Excuse you?” she was starting to boil. “I live here,” she snapped, squeezing between him and the doorway to get out of the bathroom. “And I’m not going to answer your stupid questions.”       “Why? Enlighten me. A girl I don’t know lives in my brother’s house washes in his shower, and calls him by name. And I, on top of everything else, haven’t ever seen her before.”       “How do I know that you are really his brother?”       “Why do you have so much distrust, miss…?”       He paused, waiting for her to say her first name or at least her last name. But she, not giving in to provocation, left the room to go down to the first floor. He followed her.       “Do you want to see the touching, cute childhood photos? I don’t think there is such a thing in this house.”       “That’s right, he mentioned that you don’t communicate. Another reason not to trust you.”       He caught up with her on the stairs.       “More and more interesting,” he was walking down the steps very close to her. “Whatever he told you, I’m not such a scoundrel.”       “He didn’t talk about you,” she stopped right at the first step, he almost crashed into her. “And you’re bothering me.”       “Not the words I’m used to hearing from ladies.”       “I’m going to be late for work because of you.”       She went into the kitchen to make coffee and a quick breakfast.       “Are you hinting that I should give you a ride?” he said, grinning, putting his elbows on the countertop, looking at Nemi.       “Oh, I think I got it. You are a seducer.”       “Really? What gave me away?”       She rolled her eyes, turning to him. She poured coffee into a mug, now she also looked at him.       “I won’t talk to you.”       Attempt number two:       “You offend me, miss…”       “If I tell you my last name, will it make life easier for you?”       “Yes, please.”       “Esena.”       “You are not from Iparraldeco.”       “I have already said that I will not be tal…”       He interrupted her.       “Dokken. If you don’t want to tell me your name, I won’t tell you mine either.”       “I didn’t want to know your name, Mr Dokken.”       “Just Dokken for you. Do I look like a mister, Miss Esena?”       “Yes, you’re right, I flattered you.”       He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. The keyhole turned and the door opened. Einar came in.       His gaze immediately caught on Dokken. He looked at Nemi and back at Dokken. Einar’s face hardened. Dokken grinned at his reaction.       “What do you want?”       “We need to talk. I came by a couple of days ago, but you weren’t home.”       Nemi looked at him in surprise. So that’s who upset Atala that day.       “Nemi, can I talk to you for a second?”       Einar moved aside to the fireplace, and Nemi sighed ruefully, rolling her eyes, accepting her loss. She looked at Dokken, expecting to see his smug smile at the fact that he was able to find out her name, even if not from her, but he looked more surprised and confused as if he had seen a ghost. Now Nemi gave him a sceptical look, raising one eyebrow, and went to Einar.