AN: Sorry for the delay in posting…
Chapter 11
Out in the Open
Michael would be pleased to know that she did think of him, in fact, all she did was think of him and wait and hope.
She was discouraged from asking any questions about Michael's mission and when she would go to Jurgen for answers, he was especially tight lipped.
"I don't know anymore then you do, Simone," he would say and then that would be the extent of their conversation.
Simone wanted to share her pain with Jurgen, he was the only person who she knew could understand how she felt but Jurgen was a sorry mess these days, his drinking was out of control and his treatment of his students began bordering on the vicious.
More then once, a student had to be taken to the infirmary with broken bones.
Simone had heard through others that Madeline had urged him to quit with the drinking, going so far as to begin threatening him with abeyance and that when she did; he had laughed in her face.
It seemed that with Michael gone, Jurgen no longer cared if he lived or died. Simone went out of her way to reach him but he was disgruntle and clearly ill at ease in her presence and she couldn't understand why for all she wanted to do was help him.
One night, she followed him and she was shocked to see him entering a gay bar.
All at once, things became frighteningly clear to her and she realized that he had been in love with Michael and if he did love Michael, did Michael love him back?
She sat in her car, a wound up mix of emotions as she watched Jurgen leave an hour later with a young man on his arm; they got in his car and drove away. She started the engine, her thoughts a tangle.
As much as she loved Michael could she ever begin to believe she truly knew him? It was with that heartsick thought; that she turned in the direction Jurgen went and followed him home.
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He always felt foolish after the boy of the night had left him.
He felt soiled and disgusted with himself and he would turn to the bottle in a vicious circle that was fast consuming him. He was looking – striving for someone, anyone to replace Michael and there was no one, how could anyone measure up to a man who was now mythic in Jurgen's memory.
He was consumed, twisted and made bitter by the truth of Michael's feelings for him, which were such that would never bear fruit.
For he was Simone's and she his and he would never have Michael the way he so desperately wanted.
He sat down on the edge of his bed; in the small non-descript condo that he rented. The curtains drawn and the room midnight black as he sat, in silence, weeping as he often did these days such was the misery that he had now begun to live in.
He knew that he was jeopardizing everything he had built by picking up these casual lays but he couldn't help himself. In a moment, one brief moment – with alcohol fogging the brain, he could pretend that the boy in his arms and in his bed was Michael.
Michael… How was he to know that love would be so brutal and so consuming, he had never dreamed, had never imagined that he would be so utterly left at the mercy of someone else?
His doorbell rang, which stirred him from his reverie. He ignored it, not moving… they would go away, eventually.
The buzzer sounded again. He stood on tired legs and made his way to the front door. He was drunk and in a very foul mood.
"Go away," he growled at the door.
"Jurgen, it's me – it's Simone," came back a voice. He paused. Simone. He was sick of her; of seeing her face, her beauty was the bane of his existence and yet, deep down beneath the mountain of jealousy he felt for her, there was respect and admiration. Simone was no one's fool and he respected her for her tenacity and her spunk.
He liked her but he couldn't bear to be reminded of her presence. He opened the door and Simone could see how very drunk he was and she thought of what she would say and how she would say it. He took her silence as her disapproval over his drinking.
"Who gave you my address?" He barked.
"Addresses, can be found, Jurgen," she said simply, "Can I come in, please?"
"It's fucking late," he spat out but nevertheless held the door open for her, she stepped in and he closed the door.
The place was a mess and reeked of booze fumes and dirty linens.
"I am worried about you," she said as she turned back to him. He chuckled bitterly and stepped past her and into the kitchenette, where he set upon fixing himself another drink. "Want one?" He asked and she shook her head.
"Would I be right in assuming that we are friends," she began cautiously as she followed him into the kitchen.
"I suppose, Simone," he said absently.
"So if I asked you something, you would be honest with me?" He looked up and saw the serious drawn look on her face, the hesitation swimming in those lovely almond shaped eyes.
"Spit it out," he said as he took a long swallow of his drink.
"Are you and Michael lovers?" He nearly choked on his drink; he coughed and sat it down, carefully.
"Are you serious?"
"Is that no?"
"Of course, it's a no – what in the hell, I am not – that," he spat out in a furious panic. "Yes, you are… I saw you leaving a bar to…"
"How dare you follow me, Simone!" She felt her chest tighten and she wondered if she had the strength to endure this, for she loved Michael…it was a kind of love, she had never experienced. Here was a man that made her feel like a love sick school girl, it was a new feeling – one so alien and foreign to a woman like her, who prided herself in being clear minded and practical.
"I'm sorry but I wanted to help you," she began but he was shaking his head angrily. "Jurgen…"
"For fuck sakes!" He was gripping the counter, his head hung low and his shoulders shaking and she realized that he was crying. She went to him but he pushed her off.
"You don't understand…"
"I want to, please…" He looked up at her, this all too lovely woman with her poised and confident beauty.
Oh, how could Michael not love her? Who wouldn't? She was brains and beauty, in short, perfect.
"You needn't worry, Simone…Michael and I are not nor will we ever be lovers, satisfied?"
"Your in love with him, is this what this is about – this mess, this self loathing," she swept her arm in a wide gesture and he looked at her sadly, realizing how pathetic he must be in her eyes.
"Not all of us get what we want in this world, Simone."
"Don't do this to yourself, Jurgen," her voice was softer now.
"You cannot destroy yourself like this…"
"Why? Go on tell me what is worth sticking around for…"
"Hope," she said simply and he laughed, a bitter laugh.
"Hope died the day…you claimed him, now go home, Simone…let me finish what you started."
He took a long deliberate swallow of his drink and refused to look at her.
"If you love him then you will be here when he gets back," she said as she made her exit. In her wake, there was no reply