From Part 9
His voice cracked, uttering something that sounded like a name. I was not sure though.
My confused mind tried to convince me that it had not been Mayson’s name he had been crying. But truthfully, I just could not bear thinking that he had fantasized about her while massaging me. In his mind, he had probably kissed her. I started shaking, barely able to breathe. Clark loved Mayson Drake so much that he could barely stand being away from her.
Ashamed and confused, I crept out of the hotel room. I had absolutely no idea where I could go now. With a sigh, I rested my head against the closed door, trying to understand what was going on. Life with Clark was such an emotional rollercoaster ride, lately.
* * *
Only in my dreams
Part 10
Satisfied, but also a little sad, I had looked at the beautifully set table. With a sigh, I had lit the candles and had wondered if anyone would see them but me. It had been Christmas and for the first time in years I had decided to celebrate. My family would not be there, but it had probably been better that way. I had invited Perry, but he had intended to spend some time alone with Alice. Jimmy had shrugged at my offer and had said that he had not yet been sure he would come. That usually meant no. Clark had wanted to spend the Christmas holidays with his parents in Smallville. And Superman - well, I seriously had not expected him to show up to a Christmas party. After all, he was a busy man and who knew whether Kryptonians celebrated this holiday at all?
Inwardly, I had known that this would be another lonely Christmas. But while I had been looking at myself in the mirror, checking my dress one last time, I had secretly hoped for a miracle. A moment later, it had happend - the door bell had rung. With a pounding heart, I had gone and opened the door. Clark had stood there with a smile and had held out a present.
"Merry Christmas, Lois," he had said, beaming with joy.
Presumably, this night had been the final step in my falling for Clark, head over heels. I remembered this last Christmas Eve like a dream. I relished it. We had spent a wonderful evening, danced together and finally looked at the stars. That evening Clark had been the best friend one could ever wish for. Throughout the past year, Clark had been my solid rock. He had protected me from another encounter with Lex Luthor. He had helped me to save my sister from Johnny Corbin. Without really noticing it, I had fallen in love with my partner. But the more I longed to be close to him, the further away he moved from me.
I dropped to the floor, leaning against the outside of our hotel room door, feeling incredibly miserable. I knew that I should get up. Sooner or later someone would come by and see me like this. That would be most embarrassing. Clark and I were here to find each other. This hotel was amazingly – almost painfully romantic. There was virtually no way to resist the atmosphere. The effect on us had been entirely different, though. My legs felt weak and I could not bring myself to move a limb.
Suddenly, I was lying flat on the floor and looked into the face of the man who had caused my confusion. His mouth was opened in surprise, but he did not say anything. Terrified, I got up and tried to regain my composure. What was wrong with me? I hardly knew myself anymore. As if nothing had happened in the massage room, Clark leant me a hand and helped me to stand.
"Is everything all right, Lois?" Clark asked me anxiously.
Nothing in his stance reminded me of the fact that he had been standing in the shower, uttering curses only minutes ago. Only his hair damp hair proved that I had not been dreaming this. He wore a white shirt and tight jeans. The usual tie was nowhere to be seen. Clark pulled me into the hotel room and hastily closed the door behind him. He looked back at me, ruefully.
"I'm sorry for running out on you," he said gravely. "That was inappropriate."
"Indeed, it was," I snapped, shooting him a furious glance. "What’s the matter with you, Clark? Why are you behaving this way? What have I done to you that you hate me so much?" I asked angrily, trying to hide my despair.
Clark's eyes widened. "I don’t hate you, Lois! I never could," he exclaimed in horror. "I know that I haven’t been a good friend lately," he muttered, embarrassed and his cheeks paled. "I'm sorry, Lois. I'm so sorry. "
"You’re behaving pretty strangely! Why do you want to leave the Planet all of a sudden? Can you finally tell me what’s going on?" I cried crossly, and felt tears spilling down my cheeks. That had not been part of the plan. I did not want Clark to see me crying. That it happened, only made me angrier. "I admit that I'm not particularly fond of Mayson. But that doesn’t mean you have to abandon me just like that. We used to be friends, Kent. Did you forget that?" I asked him, glaring at him. My hands were clenched into fists, ready for battle.
Clark shook his head slowly. "I could never forget that, Lois," he said in a choked voice. "I just imagined things to be a lot easier ..."
"What did you think would be easier, Clark? Is it her? Is Mayson the one who wants to drive us apart?" I shouted at him. Lashing out at him made it easier not to cry. "I wouldn’t put it past her to act like that," I added and realized, startled that I had actually voiced my thoughts. It did not take me long to overcome my speechlessness. I went on before Clark had a chance to interrupt me. "She’s not good for you, can’t you see that? I know that I wouldn’t listen when you warned me of Luthor. Clark, please, don’t make the same mistake now. You shouldn’t let yourself to be taken in by her completely, Clark! She is not worth it, " I said breathlessly.
"Lois, I love ..." he began, but I could not bear to hear him say that.
"I know that this isn’t easy," I interrupted him instead. No one knew better than I how it was to be lovesick. But I could not tell him that. It would only lead to further tears - my tears - when he told me that he just did not feel that way about me. "It never is."
"Lois, I ..." Clark tried once again.
"Why do you want to leave the Daily Planet, Clark? Tell me," I challenged him vigorously.
Clark looked at me with big, sad eyes. "I've already explained that to you," he replied, restrained.
This conversation was apparently as tough on him as it was on me. His voice sounded hoarse, as if he, too, had a thick lump in his throat. Was I imagining things or were his eyes getting wet? He kept his hands balled into fists, his whole body trembling, though he obviously tried hard to suppress it.
"No, you didn’t," I replied and clenched my fists, too.
"Well, then I haven’t told you my reasons," he suddenly blurted out. "But telling you wouldn’t change anything. And I don’t want to talk about it, Lois." His voice held a threat that sent cold shivers down my spine. Startled, I looked at Clark. He had to have noticed my reaction, because he instantly slumped down, his expression sad, while his hands visibly relaxed. "I'm sorry, Lois. I really didn’t want to ... sound so harsh. But this is something I cannot tell you about, really, I can’t," he added feebly and turned away from me.
For a while neither of us said anything. I was much too busy wondering what it was Clark felt so uncomfortable talking about. Meanwhile, my partner was staring out of the window, as if something out there had caught his interest. But I knew that he just did not want to face me. What had happened that we could not talk to each other anymore? Just when I wanted to ask him, a knock at the door interrupted the silence.
"Mr. and Mrs. White?” The voice was muffled by the door. "Are you there?"
Although Clark had been standing at the window, seemingly miles away, he was the first to open the door. A smile appeared on his face, switched on like a lamp. He stepped back and we looked into the face of a well-dressed middle-age woman. Her dress was dark, which in combination with her chastely combed hair made her look colorless. She reminded me of one of my grade school teachers.
"It’s great that I found you so quickly," the woman smiled and suddenly looked a lot nicer. "My name is Mrs. Arnold and I am your tutor during your stay here. I’m here to outline the course of your first evening here,"she then said in a businesslike manner.
"The course?" Clark asked somewhat confused, saying exactly what I had been thinking.
"Of course." She nodded mysteriously and smiled at us again. "The first evening includes dinner," she explained. "However, this is not just dinner, but also a communication exercise."
Slowly it dawned on me, that we were attending some kind of therapy. Clark also seemed to have seen the light, because he no longer looked quite so confused. Instead, he nodded slowly.
"An exercise in communication," he noted. "What exactly does that mean?" He asked cautiously as if the prospect of a therapeutic strategy was reason for distrust.
Mrs. Arnold was still smiling as she stepped further into the room. Her movements bore witness to her self-confidence. With her head held high and her back straightened, she turned to us.
"We have prepared a list of topics for you. We ask you to talk exclusively about them," she said finally. From the side I could see how Clark raised a quizzical eyebrow. I was obviously not the only one who had noticed. "The topics will be handed out at the table and should all be addressed. You don’t have to stick to the order. But in your own interest, it would be good if you go through all of them, even if you may feel uncomfortable about some,” she added and made a portentous pause while she looked at us seriously. "The aim of this exercise is to understand that openness and honesty are important elements of a relationship." She nodded at us and turned to leave. "We’re glad to welcome you as guests at our institution," she declared before she opened the door and left us alone. Unusually unanimous, we stared at the closed door.
to be continued...
