Sari's Story. Carina Zinkeisen

yet, the images could not be dispelled.

      Once again not.

      Once again not.

      Jay, who had been lying heavily on top of her, unrolled from her and was still kissing her neck groaning. Sari convulsively tried to keep her eyes closed, thinking of Sarah, the student from England with whom she had had a short but fulfilling relationship many years ago in Phnom Penh.

      In vain.

      Again and again, however, Jay's face slid in front of her mental eye with his excitedly shining eyes, which always made her a little creepy. She would have loved best to scream loudly and push Jay away. It had hurt, once again and Jay had been so heavy on her, so heavy and her vagina still felt dry and sore. She just didn't get wet with him. Everything on her was sore and hurt and Sari had trouble holding back her tears.

      Even now in thoughts.

      She was not allowed to cry in front of Jay. That would be too conspicuous.

      He was never allowed to know that she longed for a woman.

      That she was gay.

      She had to pull herself together and be the „perfect“ girlfriend, the „ideal“fiancee. Even though it was hard, very hard, increasingly hard, almost impossible.

      "I could indeed do it again, Sari, I'm so horny for you," Jay breathed into her ear. Sari pulled her legs up and put herself in a more upright position. She shook her head.

      "I think I'm getting my period. My stomach hurts. I'm hungry too, let's go to Blue Pumpkin."

      Sari wiped the tears from her eyes and tried to find her way back to reality and breathe calmly.

      Just her and her breath.

      Calm and steady.

      She lay there until the ringing of her cell phone tore her from her almost lethargic calm.

      Without sitting up, she took the call.

      It was Jay.

      "Hello, dear, just landed. We don't need to get married, let's just go back to Phnom Penh, wild marriage," she heard his voice and smiled slightly.

      "You'll do the accounts without my ma. For her, another broken engagement would be a disaster. At least Kouch already has a wedding on the plus side and Simay, you know her. I'm in a tight spot and the concept of wild marriage is no good for Ma. She's kind of stuck in the last century."

      „I know, darling, we manage this all. I love you. I'm looking forward to the Khmer barbecue later, I've never liked cakes so much. Unlike your Sis. She and Vichay get their bags, I got mine already. Kouch is really looking forward to the cake. I know my favorite sister-in-law. I love you, Sari, darling."

      Sari smiled.

      "I love you too, Jay," she said softly and hung up.

      It was a lie and she started to cry softly.

      He looked really damn good, like a Bollywood actor, no comparison to his cousin Vichay, her sister Sreykouch's husband, who was nothing at all for Sari. Jay was just perfect, but she didn't love him, not even remotely.

      Not even remotely.

       Crying, she looked at the engagement dress hanging from a hanger on the curtain rod at the window. Like its two predecessors typical Cambodian, beautiful, heavy fabric, good quality, colorful, but unfortunately too much for her taste. She simply could not stand these traditional Cambodian, terribly pompous wedding celebrations, where the couples got into debt.

      "Sari, Sis?"

      Sari slowly straightened up.

      „Sari, Sis?“

      Sari slowly straightened up.

      "Simay," she said lamely, looking at her youngest sister, who was wearing black leggings and an equally dark shirt, and straightened up a little.

      "That Ma always has to make such a fuss about engagements and weddings. This kitschy monster down in the hall, which is melting away, has caused a choking sensation in me, just like the dress there on the pole and my own, puke-green. I hate clothes. When will you finally get Ma to see that this has no style at all," Simay said with a grin and sat down at Sari's bedside.

      "I would love to go back to Phnom Penh immediately or Paris, London, New York, as far away as possible. What does Jay actually say about this?"

      "He would take me even without engagement and wedding," Sari said quietly.

      "And you, what about you, what do you want", asked Simay, who was now sitting on Saris bed with her legs crossed.

      "I would rather not marry him or any other man. Not at all," Sari said violently and sat up as well. "But that is utopia, Simay, absolute utopia, we cannot live like this. Not here, not in Cambodia, not in our position as the leading daughters of a leading family."

      Sari swallowed bitterly and thought of Sarah in Phnom Penh, the love for her and the painful separation that had gone from herself, because she was afraid that Sreykouch, with whom she shared a room in those times in Phnom Penh, would tell it their mom. She had never seen Sarah again and did not know what had become of her. Whether she still lived in Cambodia or had gone back to England.

      "I'm going to get dressed now and you should too. The party must begin. Before the cake is no longer edible. Jay will be there soon, too. He is looking forward to the Khmer barbecue tonight. He is a good man, my Jay, he should show up here any moment, together with Vichay and our sister," she said very quietly and got up.

      "Come on, Sim, let's play their game, even if it's not ours, let's go downstairs," she said grimly, and Simay also stood up reluctantly.

      Chapter 2

      Caroline took a deep breath.

      Soon she would be teaching German and English in Cambodia, leaving Munich behind. Yet only six months ago she had sworn that she would never set a foot in a classroom again. The memories of her unsuccessful clerkship still tortured her. Especiallly of Tobi, who had cheated on her with Miss "I'll spread my legs for every guy at the university", Saskia, when she was already in an awful state because of the bad marks she got during her traineeship.

      Cheap bitch, thought Caroline and rummaged through her handbag.

      Only that it didn't hurt anymore, strangely enough, it did not hurt at all. Not like the stupid traineeship that she had completely ruined and stopped because of all that bad marks she got. Not as much as the fact that Myriam wanted to marry in summer. Myriam, her best friend, Myriam, whom she had once even almost kissed at a party at university.

      Strangely enough she had to think of Myriam right now and had those odd butterflies in her stomach again. Butterflies that she had never really had with Tobi, strangely enough.

      Never.

      Only with Myri and Mrs. Becker, her gymnastic teacher in the eighth grade, but everyone had raved about her, because she was young, cool and friendly. And drop-dead gorgeous, as Caro had found back then.

      Liar, you forget Dr. Hallström and your soft knees in her lectures, her inner voice echoed almost painfully in her head and made her feel uncomfortable.