The DEF of Love - Love Me or Leave Me

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Drained with exhaustion I undress, swallow a handful of sleeping pills and slump onto my bed wishing to fall asleep and leave my problems behind. Drifting down into oblivion, I give Leo a kind thought. Not just for the pills but for his never-failing normality and all that goes with it. Dear Leo! The only one who guarantees me a certain freedom under his discreet custody. With him as my husband and Milan as my lover I shall get the best of both worlds. To let Beda go away will be beneficial for both of us. He can always send me his records and I shall visit him in New York occasionally without hanging like a millstone on his neck. I do him a favour setting him free is the last clear thought I remember before tumbling into the nest of nightmares.

I wake up my head spinning with the images of horror where Beda compels me to jump with him headlong from the Empire State Building and I swear to myself to break up with him straight away.

When I return home for lunch, the obstinate idea of marrying Leo, thus putting an end to all my troubles, is strengthened by the sight of Egon’s car parked in front of our villa. How foolish I was to presume that I shall avoid him slipping out by the back exit when warned by Mirka that a champagne coloured Ferrari lies in ambush in front of the school building.

Egon opens the door from the inside and draws me in.

“We are having luncheon together, my sweet Lolita. I informed Mary about it. Be glad. Nobody home, as usually. You will be spared eating alone.

He pinches my thigh viciously and starts the car. I give him a quick side-glance. Except for the feverish blotches on his sunken cheeks, he is deadly pale. His face is wasted and strained. God knows what kind of life he leads when abroad.

“I missed you, Lolita! You don’t give a damn about it, do you?” He grabs my hand and starts sucking gluttonously at my fingers.

“I’ve tried to forget you, little girl, honest I did! Women, liquor, drugs; to no avail. Here I’m again. I surrender. Will you take me in?”

Suddenly icy-calm, I realise I am in a desperate situation. I am on my own in the flat wildness of the road, locked in a speeding car by a hysterical psychopath. Petrified with dread, I see Egon go through the red light flaring up in front of us like a bloody eye of a man-eating monster.

“Slow down, Egon!” I scream while he rushes forward into the approaching cars.

“You’ll get us killed!”

“I couldn’t care less, as long as I take you with me!” He creases up in an insane giggle and steps on the accelerator.

If I could, I would unlatch the door and jump out but Egon zigzags through the heavy traffic with demented speed.

“I’d like to have some lunch, Egon. I haven’t eaten since the early morning. Will you take me into “La Mediterranée?” I plead hoping to escape from a place where Egon cannot afford a scandal.

Egon’s only answer is a gruesome chuckle. Its breaks shrieking, the Ferrari comes to a halt in the underground parking lot. Egon pulls me out of the car and drags to into the lift.

No use screaming for help in this aching void. It wouldn’t be just hopeless. It would make things worse. My only chance to get out of this mess unharmed is not to resist and have it over fast.

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