Read Online A Million for Eleanor: A Contemporary Story on Love and Money by Danil Rudoy - Free Book Online Page B

recollections, this time flashing before her eyes along the road curb. He regretted she was indulging in it, and yet appreciated the situation because most women could give in to such a state only in complete solitude.
    “You know,” he said a minute later. “That’s what I hate about you .”
    “What?” she said reluctantly, still looking aside.
    “That you will pretend you are hurt whenever you think it gives you an advantage. You smell weakness miraculously, and use it mercilessly. I don’t even know how many times you played this trick on me.”
    “Why would you let me?”
    “Because I loved you! I thought playing by your rules would make you happy. Back then I didn’t know how women worked: I simply wanted you to feel good.”
    “You wanted me to feel good next to you,” she said sharply.
    “Yes,” he agreed, ignoring the dramatic tension in her voice. “If you felt good with others, why couldn’t you feel good with me? When we met the probability of us dating was much higher than that you would sleep with that baseball player… the one who broke his arm climbing a tree to get into his friend’s room. I still can’t believe you slept with that idiot.”
    “Every relationship is a sacrifice; don’t you know?”
    “The question is: what should be sacrificed? Everything but money, of course!” he added hastily. “We know it buys everything but luck, don’t we?”
    “And health.”
    “That’s right. As our friend Schopenhauer says, the stupidest thing one can do is to exchange health for money because happiness depends on the former more than on anything else.”
    “Didn’t you go against this? You could die because of cocaine, and you did it for money.”
    “That’s not the same. Death is the end of suffering: what can be better than that?”
    “Is this a millionaire talking?”
    “A philosopher. See, one must be attached to bodily pleasures to like life, and I never even managed to have sex without contempt.”
    “This must be the downside of excessive spirituality.”
    “Could be. Spirituality is a tricky thing, after all. You can enjoy it on your own, but, when surrounded by people you hate, even the ability to see beauty where everyone else sees nothing doesn’t rescue you. It is the same as to be the only sighted man in a country of the blind: you have all the beauties available to you, and no one to share them with. I’ll tell you a little secret,” he said confidentially. “I don’t think I’d keep living had it not been for my family.”
    “I’ll never believe that!” Eleanor exclaimed. “Even though tomorrow I will become its part.”
    “You’re flattering yourself. Family includes only those who love me, and you aren’t one of them. You can remain silent now, because any attempt to object will be refuted immediately and with extreme cynicism.”
    “That’s something you never lacked,” she said slowly. “ That’s why I never loved you.”
    “Lie. And, since you’re saying it just to insult me, I’ll call it dirty . You didn’t love me because I was poor. And you should know I resort to cynicism only if someone sins against the truth.”
    “Is our friend Socrates back?” Eleanor asked venomously. “I thought he was buried in my house.”
    “Thought, or hoped ?” he parried. “At any rate, we’re almost there, so I suggest you start excavating the best of you.”
    “And what is it that’s waiting for me? A nuclear attack of Mrs. Mother? I bet she’ll order a steak and eat it like it’s torn from my body.”
    “As you wish,” he said indifferently, diving into his thoughts.
    The rest of the journey took but a few minutes which passed in sepulchral silence. When the car parked, he got out, opened the passenger’s door and offered her a hand. She touched it reluctantly at first, as if afraid it would electrocute her, but then she leaned on it with confidence, sliding outside without giving her dress any chance to wrinkle. He picked up the valises,