19

Normally he would have tossed out something cynical and disappeared. You know how much he hates these emotional theatrics. But he didn’t. He sat down next to me and let me pour it all out. He was genuinely patient with me. He watched me cry and explain what had happened with Rohn, then cry again and apologize. Over and over like that. I had an unbelievable monologue—I talked for an hour about how stupid I was for apologizing—and he didn’t say a single word. He just sat there and listened. Well, maybe he wasn’t even listening; I honestly don’t know. I wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know, you understand.

But he let me. And then, when I finished that outburst, I realized that he actually wasn’t angry. He didn’t care about what he’d had to arrange because of it. You know yourself what he had to keep hidden because of me, so they wouldn’t figure out that his wife had run off with someone else. I didn’t worry about anyone seeing Rohn and me. I was so angry at him that I didn’t care.

Afterward I felt bad, but my apologies didn’t interest him anyway. You could just see how disappointed he was that I had left… he hadn’t expected that from me. I had never seen him look at me like that. And that’s when it finally hit me that I could have hurt him too, you know. That maybe he isn’t such a rock as everyone thinks. And I left like a heartless bitch. After everything he did for me, I screamed at him about what a pathetic loser he was. I was completely blind… I would never have done that to him if I had suspected that I wasn’t just a colleague helping him.

“And why do you think he married you, for heaven’s sake?” Mario cut in.

“I… I… don’t know. I don’t know what I thought anymore. It just didn’t occur to me. He was Tay, after all. The one who completely despises women. He despises everyone, really. Even after we got married, it didn’t feel like we were friends. You saw how he talked to me,” Mishi defended herself.

“Well, I saw your conversations a bit differently than you did,” he smiled.

“And of course you couldn’t tell me anything…”

“Oh, I could have,” Mario grinned on, “but I enjoyed watching him squirm, the idiot.”

Mishi measured his amusement with a stern look. But she had expected something like that from Mario anyway. She understood why he hadn’t revealed anything to Tay back then. He would have been acting against himself.

…

Tay and Mario had been like two boys constantly tugging at the same toys from the very first days of their friendship. Tay never reached Mario’s popularity, and Mario was nowhere near Tay’s brilliant logical mind. And they never forgot to show each other that in their little kingdom. Even though they worked together and were very successful as a political duo, between themselves they waged petty wars.

Naturally, when it came to women, they could never really compete. Tay passed over indifferently every woman who suited Mario’s taste, just as he did all the others. It was therefore no surprise that, as part of their rivalry, Mario began to take a more serious interest in Mishi as soon as Tay got married. At first subtly, merely in the form of verbal provocations. Winning over anyone—especially a woman—was Mario’s domain. Although he supported the formation of Tay’s marriage, he soon had his own intentions toward Mishi after the wedding. As he got to know her in various situations, he liked her more and more. And since Tay stubbornly insisted to Mario throughout the year that his bond with Mishi was impersonal and would remain so in the future, Mario eagerly prepared the ground and waited. As the expiration of the yellow agreement drew nearer, Mario circled Mishi ever more intensely, making his admiration and favor clear.

Rohn was therefore not the only man who tried, over the course of the yellow agreement, to come between Mishi and Tay. When its very end finally arrived—the ball after which the Taris marriage was to end—Mario came forward with the highest offer of all. After speaking with Tay, he offered Mishi marriage himself, right there at the ball.