The Collector's Curse

【28】Ambushed

Friday evening was more time than I had intended. But we made up for it by going out on Saturday evening. The nightclub I went to was packed, and because Gigi was working, I motivated a couple of girlfriends to join me instead.

We danced and drank like there was no tomorrow. I was so far gone that Ulrik didn't come to mind for a solid four hours—a feat I hadn't accomplished since meeting him. When a man came behind me, though, to hug my frame as I undulated on the dance floor, I was sent back to that club we'd visited in Oslo.

For about a minute, I allowed the man to dance behind me, his erection nested against my swinging behind. He was tall, muscular, and relatively good-looking. Although, I might have been too drunk to judge the latter fairly. His hair was a dark shade of brown that matched his eyes, and I entertained the idea of taking him home. The stranger might be a great way to distract myself from the Norwegian demigod that occupied my mind.

But the idea of being intimate with anyone that wasn't Ulrik repulsed me. I couldn't imagine myself naked in bed with someone who wasn't him. And deep down, I knew that no man would ever match his bedroom skills. Taking that stranger home would do nothing but leave me frustrated and missing Ulrik even more.

So, instead, I went home alone at around three in the morning, completely plastered, coated in sweat and possibly alcohol. Gigi was fast asleep when I checked on her, so I headed to the bathroom in perfect silence and took a quick shower before sleeping in my pajamas. Instead of my cold and unwelcoming bed, I returned to her bedroom and slept under her cover, snuggling against her plump silhouette for comfort. She barely moved, but she must have sensed my presence because her arm came over mine as she wriggled closer to me.

I fell asleep to a world that spun around me, with her flowery scent in my nose and with my thoughts on Norway and what I had left behind.

Sunday was spent recuperating from my overindulgence. I had drank way too much, and it took several tablets of aspirin to get rid of the headache that came with the hangover. Gigi was particularly lenient with me, feeding me greasy food while I lay on the couch, comatose. She hadn't asked more about what had happened with Ulrik, but she could probably tell that something was wrong with me. Which made sense, given that I wasn't very good at hiding it.

On Monday, I still felt like shit. Objectively, I knew it wasn't because of the alcohol anymore, but I kept telling myself that. It was simpler than to admit that maybe I was making all the wrong decisions. Ulrik's call, his attempt to trigger a conversation and explain himself, was haunting me. As he had said, half of him was human after all, and maybe that health was worthy of forgiveness. That part of him was surely as flawed as all of us mortals. The greed, needs, and want that had pushed him to deceive me was all too understandable. I wasn't perfect myself, but I had never made the same adamant promises as he had. I had never hidden who I was at my very core, so my knee-jerk reaction was probably not a surprise to him.

I had always been fiercely independent, and I supposed that I had commitment issues—an unwanted trait that probably stemmed from my fear of abandonment. How could I believe that anyone would love me enough to stay around when even my own mother hadn't? But Ulrik and his promises had convinced me that maybe I was lovable, that perhaps someone out there could love me enough to stay with me until the end.

Now, however, I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. This sense of betrayal, the acrid taste it left in my mouth, ran much deeper than I could even grasp. For the first time in my life, I had opened my heart to someone in a romantic manner. Stripped of my walls and usual reserve, I had allowed Ulrik in. I'd let him reach out to grab my pulsing and bleeding heart into his strong hands. I had entrusted him with the most precious, the most fiercely guarded part of me.