Forbidden Passion Read online

  Kim sighed. “Sonja, please . . . you don’t need to keep up the act. I won’t follow you anymore, and I avoid you at work anyway. I don’t know whether you’ve noticed that.”

  “If I were Sonja, I probably would have noticed. If you two have slept together . . .”

  Kim made an agonized face. “I’ll go, Sonja. I know you have the right to treat me the way you’re doing now, but I . . . I can’t take it anymore. You take care of yourself.” She turned around shuffled back down the street, almost like an old woman.

  “Kim!” The voice that she knew as Sonja’s stopped her again, and this time, the woman came after her. “Wait. I’d like to show you something.” She pulled a wallet out of a small briefcase that Kim had never seen her with before. “Look at this.” She held her driver’s license under Kim’s nose.

  They were standing right under a streetlight, so Kim could read it perfectly well. “Sandra Kruschewski? Then why have you always gone by Sonja Kantner?”

  Sandra rolled her eyes. “I haven’t. Don’t you get it? My name is Sandra Kruschewski. It always has been. This Sonja Kantner must just look really freaking similar to me.”

  “But . . . Sonja . . .”

  “Please . . .”

  “Okay, Sandra . . .” Kim no longer knew what to say. She lifted her gaze and explored Sonja’s – no, Sandra’s – face, searching for familiar things and differences. There were many familiar things, and she saw no differences. “I . . . I can hardly believe it. You look so much like her. As if you were twins. Is it really not you?” She frowned.

  “I am me. And I don’t have a twin. I’m an only child.”

  “I’ve read about people who are supposed to be as alike as twins, even though they’re not related. But I never believed it.”

  “Now you can.” Sandra laughed. Then she tilted her head to one side – exactly the way Sonja had done when she wanted to tease Kim. “She really looks like me, your Sonja?”

  Kim raised her eyebrows and sighed. “She’s not my Sonja. Not anymore.”

  “I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I took you for a stalker, but –”

  Kim laughed dryly. “What else were you supposed to think? If you’re not Sonja –” Again, she looked closely at the face that seemed so familiar to her. Wouldn’t there have to be some difference? Something that differentiated Sandra from Sonja? Or was this in fact Sonja, after all? That nagging thought wouldn’t leave.

  “I can see you still don’t believe me,” Sandra said. “Maybe you ought to introduce me to this Sonja some time. When you see the two of us side by side, you’ll probably realize that we don’t look all that much alike, after all.”

  Sonja would never have made that suggestion. “You really aren’t Sonja,” Kim said, astonished.

  “I’m really quite curious now. There’s a woman walking around, right around here, who looks exactly like me? Or almost exactly?”

  “Exactly. Precisely.”

  “That can’t be.” Sandra shook her head. “You must be mistaken. I just can’t imagine –” She broke off and observed Kim now, almost as intensively as Kim had observed her before. “Or is this just some new kind of come-on?”

  “Come-on?” Kim looked at her, confused.

  “Well, you know, claiming that you had a relationship with a woman who looks exactly like me, that you even love her – that would shorten the preliminaries, wouldn’t it?”

  “The preliminaries?” Kim still didn’t comprehend.

  “Were you trying to come on to me?” Sandra arched her eyebrows.

  “Um . . . no . . . actually . . . I thought you were Sonja.” Kim felt like she was on a seesaw. She swung back and forth between heaven and earth and didn’t know where she belonged.

  “Really.” Sandra looked at her, eyebrows still raised, as if she were slowly beginning to doubt that Sonja actually existed.

  “Were you serious when you suggested meeting Sonja?” Kim asked. “Then you can let your own eyes convince you how similar you look, and that I’m telling the truth.”

  Sandra pursed her lips and thought about it. Then she smiled. “That does sound intriguing, for some reason. Your whole life, you think you’re unique, and then suddenly, you aren’t.”

  “I’m sure you are unique.” Kim gave Sandra an embarrassed look. “I didn’t mean to say that . . . I’m sorry I’ve pestered you so much.”

  “That’s all right,” Sandra said. “Now that you’ve made me curious, where can I meet this Sonja? Although –” she smiled crookedly, “maybe you should warn her first, if we really look as similar as you say. I know what’s waiting for me, but she . . .”

  “Yes.” Kim gazed thoughtfully into space. “I’ll have to tell her in advance.”

  “Otherwise she’ll pass out when I come in the door!” Sandra laughed.

  Kim suddenly had to laugh, too. “Actually, I doubt that. She’s used to worse.”

  “Oh?” Sandra shook her head. “And here, I was thinking, sure, why not? That sort of resemblance is possible. But now it’s seeming so implausible to me again. I’ve never met anyone who looks remotely like me before.”

  “Neither has Sonja, I’m sure. I can’t promise that she’ll be interested, but I’ll ask her.”

  “I think she’ll be interested,” Sandra said. “Or are you such . . . enemies?”

  Kim flinched. “Enemies?”

  “Sounds like a fairly dramatic story, the way you’ve acted toward me.”

  “Dramatic. Well . . .” Kim shrugged. “Not really. It was just a very normal affair, I assume. For Sonja, at least.”

  “That sounds even more dramatic.” Sandra suddenly raised a hand in front of her mouth and yawned. “If it weren’t the middle of the night, I would ask you in for a cup of coffee, but I’m awfully tired. I really have to go to bed.”

  Kim looked at her watch. “Oh, God, me, too. It’s even later than I thought.” She looked at Sandra and saw Sonja. “Sleep well,” she said – more tenderly than she would have to a stranger. She started to turn away.

  “About the meeting . . .” Sandra held her back. “Phone number?”

  “Oh . . . yeah.” Kim looked at her. “Do you have something to write with?”

  “Sure.” Sandra reached into her briefcase. “Here.” She held out a notebook to Kim. “Write your number in there. I’ll call you as soon as I have time.”

  Kim wrote down her number and gave the notebook back to Sandra. If she actually was Sonja, she wouldn’t call. Even now, Kim still couldn’t quite think straight.

  “I’m so curious, it’ll probably be sooner rather than later.” Sandra laughed. “You’d better let Sonja know soon.”

  Kim nodded. “Good night. And again: I apologize.”

  “Don’t worry about it. At least the mystery has been cleared up. Being accosted by a strange woman over and over was getting on my nerves . . . and being called by someone else’s name, no less.”

  Kim grimaced with embarrassment. “It won’t happen again.”

  “You could call Sonja Sandra a few times, to balance things out.” Sandra raised a hand in farewell. “Good night.” She turned around and walked toward the building into which Kim had seen her vanish once before.

  Kim watched her go, feeling like she’d just encountered a mirage.

  Once Sandra had disappeared completely inside the house, Kim turned around and walked back to her car.

  ~*~*~*~

  It wasn’t a night for sleeping. Kim tossed and turned, and as usual, Sonja’s face appeared before her, but she no longer knew whether it was really Sonja.

  Sonja . . . Sandra . . . how could it be? Or was it actually one and the same person, Sonja, having a bit of fun by leading Kim on?

  But why would she do that? Kim had made a mistake yet again, and Sonja had enforced its consequences, as promised. Sonja wanted no more contact with Kim, private or professional. But if Sandra was Sonja, Kim hadn’t made a mistake at all, and Sonja had had no reason to –

  After a wh
ile Kim’s head was buzzing, almost roaring. The images of Sandra’s and Sonja’s faces overlapped, and there was definitely no difference. Kim had studied Sonja’s face like a beloved landscape – when she had slept with her, when they had worked together; every smile, every twitch of the lips, every eyebrow hair was well known to her. It must be Sonja!

  She sat up in bed. One thing, at least, differentiated Sandra from Sonja: Sandra was much more relaxed. At the beginning, Sonja had come across to Kim as relaxed; she’d laughed a lot and never regarded problems as unsolvable, but since Kim and Sonja had gotten closer, that had no longer been the case.

  At first, the problem was with a certain night in a hotel room, then Kim’s transfer, and then her husband’s phone calls that burdened Sonja. Presumably not just his calls. After all, she went home to him in the evenings . . .

  Kim lay down again and crossed her arms over her head. Was “Sandra” Sonja’s evasive maneuver? The chance to be the way she really wanted to again, but couldn’t? Had she managed to create in her own small apartment a refuge into which she could retreat, where neither Kim nor her husband could disturb her, where she could be completely herself and live only for herself?

  Kim’s mood darkened considerably. Sonja had never wanted to spend the night with her, ostensibly because she had to go home to her husband, for whatever reason, but she was actually spending the night in her own apartment. So she didn’t have to go home to her husband, at least not every night. She had lied to Kim.

  And if she’d lied to her about this, why not about other things as well? Had anything she said ever been true? Did she spend her Sundays there, too . . . the Sundays that were never available for a date with Kim?

  All of Kim’s thoughts ran in circles. Had her entire relationship with Sonja – no, her affair, Kim had only imagined the relationship – been one big lie? Did Sonja have that apartment all along? If it weren’t for the phone calls that Jo could confirm, Kim would even have begun to doubt that Sonja had a husband at all. She was familiar with Sonja’s personnel file, but who would check up on something like that?

  Sandra and Sonja were the same person – everything she knew led to that conclusion. It couldn’t be otherwise.

  She rolled onto her side and stared out the window into the clear, starry night. The stars twinkled like little diamonds on a sheet of black velvet. Each a tiny jewel in the vastness of the universe.

  Many of them had burned out long ago, but the light had been traveling so long that they still shone in the sky. And so this starry sky was nothing but a lie. You couldn’t tell which of the stars still existed and which didn’t.

  The whole world was a lie, so what difference did a little lie like a name change make? Whether Sonja called herself Sonja or Sandra, whether she lived in a suburb or right here on the Michelbergring, whether she slept with her husband or with Kim or with anyone else – none of that had the slightest significance in the grand scheme of things.

  When the star called the sun had long been extinguished, it would still shine on the other end of the galaxy, and no one would know how old those rays were.

  Kim sighed deeply. Seldom had she ever felt such despair, such hopelessness. Sonja was the great love of her life, she knew that, but if Kim had been Sonja’s great love, then Sonja wouldn’t have behaved as she did. She would have told Kim the truth, about the apartment, about “Sandra,” about everything.

  Kim was only one chapter in her book – one of many. No more meaningful than all the other chapters there had been already . . . all the affairs she obviously needed to maintain her mental equilibrium.

  And she apparently needed “Sandra”, too. When she was “Sandra”, she didn’t have to accept responsibility for what she had done as Sonja. “Sandra” was a free woman, unmarried, with her own small apartment and no obligations.

  Some people needed that, a sort of time out from reality, although Kim would never have guessed that Sonja was among them. She appeared to be one of the most realistic people Kim knew. But perhaps that was precisely the problem: As Sonja, she didn’t allow herself to be emotional or unrealistic, but inside, she needed to. That’s why she’d created “Sandra,” who opened up all the possibilities that Sonja forbade herself.

  What other passions was she addicted to? Gradually, Kim was starting to feel like she didn’t know Sonja at all, like she’d never known her, not even superficially. The woman now taking shape in front of Kim’s eyes bore no resemblance to the woman Kim had fallen in love with; she was a completely different person.

  Kim began to worry. How long had Sonja been playing this game? Did she even know what she was doing anymore? Was she in control of it, or did the game have control over her? Could she let “Sandra” appear when she wanted to, or did “Sandra” simply come out at will – like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?

  A shudder ran through Kim’s body. This was taking on new dimensions . . .

  But maybe she was just spinning herself into an unnecessary frenzy. Certainly, “Sandra” existed, there was no doubt about that, but precisely what her function was, only Sonja could explain.

  Kim would have to call her tomorrow.

  ~*~*~*~

  The telephone rang just as Kim was discussing the Kurowski case with Marietta. Absently, she reached around for it, halfway behind her back, and answered.

  “Have you talked to Sonja yet?” Sonja’s voice asked.

  Kim was confused for a moment. She turned her gaze away from Marietta, toward the small screen on the telephone. A cell phone number – not Sonja’s. “Sandra?”

  “Yes, sorry, I didn’t even say who it was. I’m so curious.”

  “Uh . . . no, I haven’t spoken with . . . her” – Kim had almost said you – “yet. I’ve been too busy.”

  “Too bad,” Sandra – or Sonja said. “I’m free around noon today. We could meet for lunch.”

  Kim considered. “I could call her right now. Will you hold on?” She’d see what happened when she dialed Sonja’s number. Was she sitting in her office with the cell phone, and would she talk with Kim on both lines?

  “You have to hang up with me, first.”

  “I can put you on hold and call on another line.”

  “I think I’d rather just call back in half an hour,” Sandra said. “I just need to know, because otherwise, I’m going to eat with a colleague.”

  Sonja – with a colleague? Who would that be? Kim shook her head. “All right. Go ahead and call me back. Or I’ll call you back on your cell. I have the number now.”

  “That would be fine. It might even be better. Bye, talk to you later.” Sandra hung up.

  Kim looked at Marietta as if she could provide an answer to all the questions swirling around in her head. “Kurowski is straightened out?” she asked. “You can authorize the account credit.”

  “Okay.” Marietta nodded and disappeared.

  Kim hesitated for a few seconds – the receiver was still in her hand – then pressed the telephone’s cradle and waited for a dial tone. She dialed Sonja’s number.

  “Mrs. Kantner’s office. Jo Mayrhofer speaking,” Jo answered.

  Kim hesitated. “Is Sonja there?”

  “Not at the moment. But she’ll be right back.”

  Kim was silent.

  “May I take a message?” Jo asked. “Would you like her to call you back?”

  “No, no.” Kim answered automatically. Sonja probably wouldn’t call her back anyway, even if she asked her to. “It’s nothing important, I just wanted to –”

  Sonja wasn’t in her office. She’d sought out a corner where Jo couldn’t hear her, in order to call Kim from the cell phone and pose as Sandra.

  “Here she comes. Wait, I’ll put you through.”

  The line crackled, then Sonja answered. “What do you want?”

  As Sandra, her voice had sounded significantly gentler; clearly, she was differentiating the two.

  “I . . . well . . . I don’t know . . . Are you an only child?” Kim blurted out.


  “Excuse me?” It sounded like Sonja was pulling out her chair to sit down.

  “I mean, do you have a sister who looks a lot like you?”

  “Are you feeling all right?” Sonja sounded extremely displeased. “Where did you come up with that idea?”

  “I . . . hmm . . . do you have time for lunch with me? Then I could explain.”

  “I have neither the time nor the interest in eating lunch with you,” Sonja said. “I thought I made that perfectly clear. Those days are over.”

  “Yes, fine . . . but . . . but . . . I’d like to introduce you to someone.” Kim grinned. Sooner or later, Sonja would have to come out of her mouse hole. After all, she knew why Kim was calling. But of course, she couldn’t admit it.

  “Professionally?”

  “No, more . . . personally.”

  “Your new girlfriend? I’ll pass,” Sonja said. “I don’t need to put myself through that. And I’m surprised you’re even suggesting it. Apparently I misjudged you. If this is a purely personal call, I’m going to hang up now.”

  “No, Sonja!” Kim raised her voice. “Don’t hang up. It’s nothing like that, I assure you.”

  “Then you were just looking for some pretext to call me? You should’ve chosen something professional instead. I won’t discuss personal things with you. I gave you one last chance, and you –” Kim clearly heard Sonja take a deep breath. “That was it for me,” she went on. “I’m not going to debate it.”

  “Do you know someone called Sandra?” Kim asked. She would have to react to that.

  “Not that I know of.” Sonja answered so quickly, it seemed to Kim that she’d just been waiting for the question.

  “She’s the one I’d like to introduce you to,” Kim went on. “She looks so much like you, you could be twins.” Well . . . well . . .? Where was the reaction?

  “Twins?” Sonja seemed genuinely surprised.

  “Yes, one would assume you were,” Kim said. “But if you don’t have a sister –”