Perpetual

She was nervous enough about going to her parents’ house for dinner. When she got home to pick up Zemo, she saw that he still wasn’t dressed. Zemo was sitting there reading a book, in a green T-shirt that highlighted his eyes and black sweatpants. They had gotten into an argument. Again. Svetlana had screamed at the top of her lungs as Zemo told her to calm down. Again. When the man finally gave up and left her to go get dressed, Svetlana had berated the butler and assistant who had been following her. Again. Zemo had turned around and yelled at her to respect his employees, then made her apologize to them. Again. This had happened so often that at one point Svetlana had begun to think she had lost control of reality, that she was stuck in a nightmare where she was reliving each day over and over again.

As Zemo came down the stairs, showing himself with his hands outstretched, the woman grew even angrier. She turned her nose up at the man, who was wearing a black sweater over his gray slacks. "Can't you wear something that gives off a little more of a "I care about you" energy?"

Zemo raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath before speaking. "That's cashmere!" he said, pointing to his sweater.

Svetlana glanced at her expensive wristwatch. "Whatever. My dad hates being late, you know. We're out of time. You can't change even if you wanted to," she said angrily.

The man read a book the whole way because he didn't want to argue with Svetlana. When they finally reached the front of the house, Svetlana pulled the book out of his hand so hard that if she had used any more force, she could have torn both of Zemo's hands off along with the book.

Zemo clenched his teeth to keep from screaming, and reminded himself why he was still in this relationship: He didn’t want to be alone, and Svetlana was the best he could find. “You’re a freak, Zemo. An antisocial, pathetic freak,” she had said on their second date. “But lucky for you, I like antisocial, pathetic freaks.” She added, as if to say something trivial, “At our age, you don’t have many options.”

The meal was even worse than he had expected. When Svetlana’s father brought up the subject of choosing a wedding date, Zemo could not bear it any longer, and risking the ensuing fight, he said, “That’s not going to happen,” just before a deathly silence settled over the table. Svetlana’s father opened his mouth, but Zemo had already risen from his chair. “Good evening,” he said in an icy voice, and he left the magnificently chandeliered room with quick but confident steps. If he hadn’t turned his back, he could see Svetlana’s eyes trying to kill him. That much he could guess.

"A rough evening?" his driver asked as he opened the door for him.

"You can't imagine!" Zemo said as he got into the car. "Take me home as soon as possible, please. I need to get away from this madness."

When he finally got home, he realized how peaceful this mansion was without Svetlana. It was past midnight, and there was no one around. He went to the kitchen. He hadn't had an appetite at dinner, but now he was really hungry. He made himself a jalapeno and cheddar cheese toast, unaware that it would later become Elena's favorite.

There were all the fancy mini quiches on the table, all sorts of hors d'oeuvres, all sorts of French desserts, but none of them were as enjoyable as this simple toast. He placed a fancy napkin under his toast before placing it on a plate. Even if he was eating a simple toast, he was a baron. Some habits were hard to break.

He sat down, his plate in front of him, at the huge island counter in his enormous kitchen, all alone. He only realized he was crying when he was halfway through his toast, thanks to the tears that had fallen onto his fingers. He swallowed as he looked at the tears on his fingers. I'm alone, he thought. All alone in this big world. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he rubbed his forehead with one hand and took it out of his pocket.

He was angry with himself for getting his hopes up, thinking Svetlana had sent him an apology or something, but there was only one email. He didn’t want to read it, he wasn’t in the mood, but he paused when he saw the name. Elena Van Houten. How did he know that name? Oh, this dumb girl was the only art student in the entire class who was taking Scientific Ethics. He rolled his eyes and involuntarily went to his inbox to read the email. He was expecting an email saying that she had dropped the class, there always was. Novice students would accidentally take your class and then drop it.

“Dear Professor,

I am so excited to take your class this semester! However, I am an art student so I can’t say I have much interest in the subject. If you could recommend a reading list, I could do some preparation before the classes start.

Best regards,

Your best student in advance,

Elena.”

She was too confident. He entered the girl's student profile, but it was a mistake. Dear God! He had never seen eyes like that in his life. The photo was practically alive. The girl's eyes were piercing through the screen, penetrating into him. He was staring at the huge eyes that shone like black pearls. He quickly glanced at her cute nose that was tiny on her heart-shaped face and her delicate lips that were kissable, but in the end, his eyes were fixed on the girl's eyes again. Then he realized that the girl was smiling in the photo. At that moment, when the phone's light went out, Zemo saw his own smile reflected on the screen. Elena's smile was contagious.

He was angry with himself for getting excited. He didn't dare to turn on the phone's screen. He didn't want to see those eyes again. He just put his phone in his pocket, tidied up the kitchen, and went upstairs. He brushed his teeth and got in his pajamas. He got into bed and tried to read a book, but Elena's smile wouldn't leave his mind. The feeling was disturbing. It was as if he had known the girl for years. This is impossible, he thought. How old was she? He didn't think she was older than twenty-three. He closed his book and threw it somewhere on the bed before reaching over and grabbing his phone as an excuse to see if he was right.

There she was. He fixed his phone on the pillow and turned over to see her smile better. Zemo couldn’t sleep without sleeping pills. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. For the first time in his life, he’d fallen asleep staring at Elena’s picture without even thinking about sleeping pills, and he’d wake up the next morning to realize it.