by Harper Bliss
Claire had encountered many a loudmouth through her profession, but Inez was something else. She seemed to suck all of the attention towards her. Not in a bad way, but definitely in an unmistakable one. She was one of those people who were impossible to dislike. Claire wondered if Margot had tied her to bedposts as well.
“We have to get back to our party,” Margot said, after a few minutes.
“Is that Nadia?” Inez asked. “I’ll come with you to say hello.”
Claire hoped it wouldn’t be one of those nights where different groups of people blended effortlessly, some individuals leaving the premises feeling as if they had made new friends for life. It was bad enough that Inez was part of Margot’s professional life, she didn’t need to worm her way into Margot’s personal life as well.
They headed back into the direction of Steph’s table, Inez and Manu in tow.
NADIA
As if this night isn’t stressful enough. Nadia pecked Inez on the cheek, not something she would normally do with colleagues in private situations, but Inez had pressed her lips to Nadia’s cheek before Nadia had a chance to do or say anything.
Nadia had no choice but to make introductions, slightly hesitating when it was Juliette’s turn, her brain automatically putting the words ‘my partner’ in her mouth.
Steph, who’d been acting as if Dominique Laroche didn’t exist, curling her arm around the girl she’d introduced as Cassandra, whispering things in her ear that made her go all gooey-eyed, shot Inez her flirty smile—a lopsided grin, accompanied by narrowed eyes and a slightly slanted head. This was definitely pre-Laroche Steph on display.
Nadia beckoned Steph and they stood as far apart from the group as their crowded quarters allowed.
“What’s gotten into you?” Nadia asked. “Have you and Dominique already progressed to an open relationship?”
“We’re on a break,” Steph was quick to say. “And I’ll be damned if I just sit around on my, frankly, quite agile hands.” She shook her fingers loose as if to prove a point.
“What happened?” Nadia looked around, at the complete shambles around her. Juliette and Claire in the middle of a forced conversation with Margot’s ex. Cassandra eyeing Nadia suspiciously. Fred drooling over Manu. She and Juliette had barely exchanged a word, the pain of being in the same place as her while their relationship had turned into undefined nothingness overshadowing everything. And then there was Steph.
“It’s just impossible.” Steph shrugged. She held out her empty glass of champagne while Margot refilled. “And I prefer things easy.”
Nadia had no arguments. If Steph could be willingly coaxed away from the disaster that her affair with Dominique would eventually end up being, she wouldn’t stand in the way. She just hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly and so easily, as if Laroche had just been a momentary blip on Steph’s radar, there for a minute or two, but already fading out. The way Steph downed her drink betrayed a deeper malaise though.
“Happy birthday,” Nadia whispered in Steph’s ear before kissing her on the cheek again.
“I hope you know there’s only one thing I really want for my birthday.” Steph pinned her watery eyes on Nadia. Nadia had an inkling of what she was going to say, but didn’t have the heart to brush Steph off. “I want you and Jules to give each other another chance. Just one break. Meet each other halfway. Talk. Whatever. Just do something to restore my faith in humanity.”
“I’ll try.” Nadia shot Steph an encouraging smile that didn’t really work out, noticing in the process, that her glass was empty again. Good thing she wouldn’t be going home alone tonight. She would need someone to support her.
Spurred on by Steph’s words, and even more so by the sight of Juliette, who looked as if she was desperately trying to hold on to something but wasn’t quite succeeding, Nadia walked over to Juliette.
Claire, who, as a result of Nadia’s intervention, would have to engage in solo conversation with Inez, didn’t hesitate to give them some privacy. It felt as if all their friends were trying much harder to fix their relationship than they were.
“Please tell me the reason why Steph has her tongue in that girl’s ear is because she and Dominique have wisely decided to call it quits,” Juliette said, chuckling nervously.
“I think they might have, but I can’t give you any guarantees.” Nadia nodded in Claire’s direction. “How is she holding up?”
“You know Claire, she’s not that easily deterred.” Juliette’s eyes wandered to Inez. “But I can see why she would be worried, though.”
“We should talk,” Nadia said, unable to look Juliette in the eye. “Maybe tomorrow?” She focused her attention on twirling her glass around in her hands, because the desire to fling an arm around Juliette’s shoulders was too big. She wanted to feel her close, smell her skin.
“Yes?” Juliette asked, as if Nadia had thrown her the biggest bone. “Would you?”
Nadia nodded, her throat closing up. She knocked back her drink before continuing. “Shall I come to the flat?” She’d never seen Juliette this small, this broken down, as if her bones had collapsed and shrunk her entire body.
“Please.” Juliette shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Nadz.” Her hand touched Nadia’s side.
“I know,” Nadia said, because it was all over Juliette’s face. Nadia pondered all it had taken to get them to this point. All the betrayal, the cheating, the wounds they had inflicted on each other. All of that to have a level playing field again. Could they really rebuild something on the ruins they’d created, on everything they’d smashed with blind, brute force? “Around two?” Nadia briefly leaned into Juliette’s touch, but she knew that was one mistake they shouldn’t make again. She straightened her posture, causing the sad puppy look to return to Juliette’s face.
“Sounds good.” Juliette looked over at Claire and Inez. “I’d better go rescue Claire from her nemesis.”
Nadia nodded and watched Juliette saunter off. If five minutes of conversation in which nothing was said already hurt so much, how would they ever get through the painful stuff?
STEPH
Although well on her way to being blind drunk and increasingly convinced she couldn’t care less, Steph was unable to keep her eyes off the door. As if looking at it longingly would make Dominique walk through it somehow. As if she’d suddenly been transported to a world in which MLR’s star députée could make an appearance in a gay bar in Le Marais without consequences.
“Je te veux,” Cassandra kept whispering in her ear. I want you. As if that hadn’t been clear since the night before when Steph had ended up at Les Pêches and, quite inebriated after downing a couple of shots, had invited Cassandra to her birthday party. At the time, she’d been convinced she couldn’t face it alone.
Steph turned her face towards Cassandra and kissed her full on the lips, more to shut her up than anything else. She felt nothing. Not the usual—pre-Dominique—sense of having conquered someone, of having acquired something she really, really wanted. She certainly didn’t feel the desire to undress Cassandra and find out what was hiding underneath, the thrill of discovery chasing up her spine.
“Excuse me for a second.” Steph left Cassandra to her own devices and found Fred.
“That Manu is so gorgeous,” was the first thing he said.
“Then by all means, go for it,” Steph said dryly.
“No need for such enthusiasm, darling.” Fred turned to her. “You know we do things differently than the lesbians, not that you’re a typical one.” He refilled her glass from another bottle that had magically appeared in the ice bucket. “Although you do seem to be off your game a bit of late. And that Cassandra doesn’t seem to be doing it for you either. What’s going on?”
“I guess I’m getting too old for all of this,” Steph slurred.
“Age has nothing to do with it.” Fred nudged her in the bicep. “I’ll go with you to Les Pêches after the old-timers have left, find you someone you really want.”
; “I don’t think so.” She spotted Manu throwing backward glances at Fred. “Go on. You found your mission for the night.”
“Should I take him to Le Raidd? Christophe is DJ-ing until closing time, maybe we can make it a threesome…”
There was a time when Steph couldn’t get enough of listening to Fred’s tales of his open relationship, which seemed so simple and uncomplicated on the surface. She’d been intrigued by it, wanting to learn as much as possible about Fred and Christophe’s arrangement, mainly because it was the complete opposite of how everyone else she knew conducted their relationship. But tonight, she couldn’t care less.
It was her birthday and the one person she had wanted to celebrate with was sorely missing. Not just because Steph had challenged her to a break, but even more so because Dominique would stand out in L’Univers as much as Steph would at an MLR party congress.
Steph reached for her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. Not even a text message. They had exchanged birth dates. Dominique’s was in two weeks, and she’d be spending it on a beach on the Côte d’Azur with her children.
She felt two arms curve around her waist from behind and for a split second, a huge smile already spreading across her face, she thought it was Dominique. But that was impossible.
“When can we get out of here?” Cassandra whispered in her ear. “I want you more with every minute that passes.”
Steph straightened her face and turned around in Cassandra’s embrace. “Soon,” she said, willing to settle for this girl she would never care about, anything was better than spending her birthday alone, waiting for someone who wouldn’t come.
MARGOT
Margot didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve and had never told anyone, not a single person on this planet, how much Inez had hurt her. She was a rational, logical person, someone who put much more stock in the brain than in the heart, and the only reason she had held on was because she knew it would pass. With time, the pain would diminish and numb to barely even being there.
The day Inez had left for Africa, Margot had stopped eating. She knew what it would do to her body, but if the food wouldn’t go down, it simply wouldn’t go down. And they hadn’t even officially broken up then. They would try to make it work, somehow, and, despite the rationality her brain forced upon her, Margot had believed it. Because she loved Inez with every fibre of her being. She’d had no choice but to believe it.
They’d talked on Skype—often through bad connections—and made vague plans for a future they wouldn’t have. A few weeks later, during which Margot had survived on the odd piece of fruit and a bowl of soup in the evening, Inez had sent her an e-mail telling her it would be better to end it, and, the real kicker, that she’d met someone else.
Margot had immediately ceased all contact, going into protective mode, but it had been too late. In the year and a half they’d been together she’d let Inez past every barrier she’d ever put up, all the way into her soul, until she had become a part of her. She’d revelled in her presence, blossomed into a person she never thought she could be.
When all of that had been brusquely taken away, Margot had felt as if a part of her had been taken as well. As their affair had progressed, Margot had started to believe she could make Inez stay. She wasn’t the type of person to ask for something like that out loud, especially because MSF needed people like Inez, but she’d been convinced their bond was strong enough to change Inez’ mind.
She’d been wrong.
And now, there she stood, talking to Claire as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Margot could already spot the signs that Claire was getting tipsy—ever widening hand gestures, her voice shooting up louder—and possibly even friendly with Inez. Would they all be going out for dinner next week?
It was bad enough that Margot had to encounter Inez at work every day, reminding her of the heartache she’d, honestly, only just put behind her. But she had Claire now. Kind, caring, mature Claire who wasn’t going anywhere soon. Margot couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough to counter the force of nature Inez still seemed to be. Despite saying the words, over and over again—when I’m done with someone, I’m truly done with them—Margot knew, deep down, that against Inez and what she had meant to her, Claire didn’t really stand a chance.
“I love Steph dearly, but this is the worst birthday party ever,” Nadia slurred in her ear. “Don’t tell me you disagree.” She elbowed Margot in the bicep while tossing her head to the side, in the direction of Claire and Inez, who appeared to be in the middle of a conversation Margot simultaneously wanted to know everything and nothing about.
Margot just drew up her shoulders, realising that by now, she was probably the only sober person in their group—and she had least reason to be. “Can I buy you a whiskey?”
“Why don’t I buy you one?” Nadia asked. “I hired her. I owe you.” She didn’t wait for Margot’s reply and dashed off to the bar.
Margot was not usually one to drown her sorrows in alcohol, but this was a very unusual evening. She stood watching Claire and Inez while waiting for Nadia to return. After a few seconds, Claire found her eyes and shot her a quick smile. Margot smiled back, a feeling of compassion she didn’t fully understand rising in her gut. When Inez’ gaze landed on her just as Nadia returned with their drinks, something ripped through her, like a knife cutting through her flesh, and Margot couldn’t knock back the whiskey soon enough.
“Another?” she asked Nadia.
JULIETTE
Juliette watched the evening unfold. Nadia and Margot had switched to the hard stuff. Steph was pretending not to care about Dominique by hooking up with Cassandra. And Claire and Inez seemed to have found some sort of common ground. Juliette had tried to insert herself into their conversation, but hadn’t found anything to contribute—not something she usually had issues with. They were talking about Friedriechshain and Kreuzberg and, frankly, Juliette didn’t really have a clue what it was all about.
Six months earlier, when she still believed she was happy and as carefree as could be—even though she was probably too busy to notice how things had started to crumble already—this sort of party would have been a joy. An occasion for all of them to let their hair down and make some silly memories, remembering the night long after it had passed. Now, Juliette wished she could forget about it already.
At least she had an appointment with Nadia tomorrow—she could hardly call it a date. But, judging from the way Nadia was knocking back the whiskeys with Margot, as if it was some sort of competition, her hopes of having a fruitful discussion were starting to fade.
She knew that if she told Nadia off, asked her to take it easy, it would come across as another criticism, so she turned to Steph instead. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere else than at her own birthday party and, possibly for the first time, Juliette felt sorry for her friend and colleague.
Juliette leaned into Steph’s ear. “If those two keep knocking them back that quickly, it will not end well.”
“As opposed to how it will all end gloriously and we’ll all live happily ever after if they stop drinking, you mean?” Steph’s eyes had glazed over. She used to be able to take more than a few glasses of champagne. Then again, she probably had less practice these days, leaving a string of disappointed damsels in her wake when not showing up at Les Pêches. She took another sip of her drink. “I think I’m going to leave.”
“Seriously?”
“You and Nadia aren’t talking. Margot clearly can’t handle seeing her ex again and, to be perfectly honest, it all hurts too much. This is not how I wanted to feel on my birthday.” She threw her arms wide, dramatically. “This is not where I wanted to be.” She looked over at Cassandra who was refilling her glass from the bottle at the centre of the table. “And that is not the person I want to be with.” Steph drank some more. “This has now officially become the worst birthday ever.”
Juliette didn’t know what to say to that. All she wanted to do was turn to the bottl
e herself, but someone had to keep a clear head—and get all of these intoxicated people into a taxi.
“Will you be all right getting home?” She hoped the concern she felt for Steph was adequately expressed on her face.
“Oh, I’m not going home. Cassandra lives just around the corner. How great is that? A flat in Le Marais?” Steph chuckled. “She’s been dying to get out of here for the past hour anyway.” Steph threw her arms around Juliette’s neck and kissed her on the cheek. “Take care of your woman, Jules. Give her some aspirin before putting her to bed.” With that, she started saying her goodbyes, breaking up the party prematurely. Something Juliette was not sorry for.
Juliette looked over at Nadia. She and Margot had found chairs in the corner, a half-full bottle of whiskey between them. If they didn’t stop soon, Juliette would actually have to follow Steph’s advice and put Nadia to bed. She approached them, dragged another chair close and sat down opposite the two of them. They both looked at her as if she was a creature that had miraculously appeared in their presence.
“Don’t mind me,” Juliette said. “Unless I was the topic of your no doubt fascinating conversation.”
“No snark needed,” Nadia said.
“We’ve got plenty of that ourselves.” Margot snickered, her eyes so watery Juliette questioned if she could actually still see anything. Obviously, the doctor was a lightweight. Was Claire so enthralled with Inez that she didn’t know what was happening? Juliette swivelled around in her chair and called for Claire, who rushed over in a panic.
“I think you should take her home.” Juliette couldn’t keep the reproach out of her voice.
Claire crouched next to Margot. “Are you all right?” she asked, which was quite possibly the most stupid question she’d ever asked anyone. Seemingly quickly realising the error of her ways, Claire hooked her arm around Margot’s elbow. “Come on. Time for some fresh air.” She eyed the bottle on the table. “Jesus.” Shooting Juliette a worried glance, she pulled Margot up out of her chair.