I hadn’t just moved to a different city for Claire, I had moved to another country. At the time it had been a total no-brainer, because nothing can top the romantic notion of moving to Paris to be with your lover. But on that Monday afternoon, after I made Claire drink a bucket of water, fed her a sleeping pill and put her to bed, the view of my future life in Paris seemed to have become rather dim. Ninety percent of the people I knew, I had met through Claire. Louise had been an exception, until Claire had done her irreparable damage. I was rapidly succumbing to an overwhelming loneliness while sitting there, looking through the windows of Claire’s apartment, sitting on Claire’s sofa. I impatiently waited for some brilliant plan to crystallise in my mind, but my brain refused duty. I just sat there, basically feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in bottomless pools of self-pity. A stranger in a strange land. I didn’t even speak the language.

I must have sat there for a couple of hours, successfully zoning out to ignore the current state of my life, because I suddenly awoke from my morose state to find Claire standing in front of me. This was a different version of Claire though, for this was no longer the broken woman I had put to bed earlier that day. Clearly the nap had sobered and perked her up substantially. As she took control of the situation, and our lives again, it was my turn to break down. The mere sight of her being all Claire again floored me. I wanted to scream and cry and fight, but instead I got up and kissed her. She kissed me back as if it was the most natural course of action. My mind went blank, I didn’t think about Louise and Katy being kissed by those same lips, being felt by those same hands and being fucked by this same woman. I just saw Claire, my lover, my partner, my woman, making love to me for the last time.

Afterwards, when the melancholy of it all hit me with full force again, I asked her, “Did you sleep with Louise to spoil her for me?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why then?”
“She challenged me.”
“Oh wow. The best reason in the world.”
“Are you still in love with her?”
“What do you care?”
“My partner falls in love with another woman and I shouldn’t care?”
“I stopped being your partner the second you kissed Louise.”
“I think you stopped being that a while ago.”
“And whose fault was that?”
“You fell in love with her.”
“You slept with Katy.”
“Don’t you dare compare the intimacy of falling in love with another woman to sex with a stranger.”
“Katy is not a stranger.”
“She was to me.”
“You just can’t admit it, can you?”
“Admit what?”
“That our relationship is over because of your stupid rules. Because you wanted an open relationship. Because I wasn’t enough.”
“Our relationship is over because you had a crush on Louise.”
“I can’t believe you. No wonder I fell for someone else. For heaven’s sake, you fucked Katy and before Katy you fucked about a dozen of other men and women. Did you really believe I was OK with that? Every time you told me you fucked another stranger, it felt like a massive blow to my stomach, one I thought I would never recover from.”
“Don’t confuse your stomach with your ego.”
“My ego? You’re the one who’s convinced that one woman isn’t enough for you. You’re the one who thinks there’s enough of Claire to go around for anyone who might be interested. It’s disgusting.”
“At least that was just sex, an emotionless physical action. At least I can say that in the three years we’ve been together, I have only loved you.”
“Maybe the kind of love you had to offer was not good enough. Not by a fucking long shot. I never wanted your bloody open relationship, I only agreed to it because I wanted you. How could you not see that? And look at me now? I only made the worst mistake of my life.”
“Maybe we should continue this conversation later, when you have calmed down.”
“There is no calming down from this, Claire.”

And it was back to square one, back to Vincent’s tiny apartment, and back to feeling sorry for myself.

To be continued…