Love Unconditional

Love Unconditional

Emma was wide awake and had been for the last hour.  The sunlight had started to make its way across the bare walls and hardwood floors of the second floor bedroom.   It would be another 20 minutes before the light reached Emma and her companion in the bed.  Using the natural light Emma surveyed the room;  her new black lace panties turned inside out laying at the entrance of the adjoining bathroom, a suit rack located on the wall across from the bed, and a bookshelf which held pictures of half-naked college coeds during what looked like spring break.  Based on the contents of the sparsely decorated room, Emma assumed that her companion was being honest when he said he was a recent graduate with a real job at an upstart brokerage firm downtown, and not some a*****e that used rehearsed lines to get women to go home with him.  She did not need to see anymore.  Despite the excessive consumption of alcohol the night before, Emma was fully aware of what occurred in this room.  If her petite naked body didn't provide the confirmation, the scent in the room certainly did.  Maybe these one night stands aren't so bad, Emma thought. 

Emma lay silent going through the events of the previous night that led to her sharing a bed with a stranger.  Last night was supposed to be a celebration, her 31st birthday, a night out with her girlfriends.  It was a Friday night.  Was she expected to sit home and feel sorry for herself?  It had been so long since Emma was with people her own age, so of course she jumped at the opportunity to go out with the girls.  Ok, so most people in their 30's probably do not celebrate their birthday with rounds of shots and cosmos, but there was no rule against it.  Last night was the first night she had seen her friends in months and she was determined to enjoy herself.  So what if she went out, had a few drinks and at the end of the night made a brash decision to go home with the first guy that showed her attention.  Was it her intention to go home with a complete stranger?  No, but he was sweet and made her laugh.  Her one night stand did not judge or ridicule her for asking "stupid" questions or make her feel small.  In fact, he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.  As the night progressed Emma found herself friendless and moving closer to the stranger and as closing time neared they made an exit out the backdoor hand in hand.

            Emma lay silent next to her one night stand.  She didn't touch him; she didn't want or need to touch him.  Her desires had been met and satisfied.  If memory serves, she did things last night that she hadn't done in years.  She felt no shame, no guilt.  Last night's multitude of passion was well needed and deserved.  It had been nearly a year since she last had sex or was even touched intimately by a man.  Sure there was an occasional hug and a kiss good night but nothing like the animalistic passion that transpired last night.  Emma closed her eyes and replayed the late night/early morning escapades over in her head and smiled.

            In the distance a vibrating noise disturbed the erotic thoughts and the stillness of the room. 

Where is that coming from?  A minute or two passed. 

There it goes again. 

After several repetitions Emma knew exactly where the noise was coming from.   It was the message alert on her phone. 

She remembers slipping out of her skirt somewhere between the front door and the bedroom door, so either her phone is excessively loud or the acoustics in the apartment were exceptional.  It was probably one of her girlfriends wanting to know if she had made it home safely. 

But this thought angered Emma.  Last night was supposed to be a girl's night out.  Why would they ditch her like that?  They knew she had been looking forward to last night’s get together for weeks.  If they cared so much about her safety why did they bail on her early to go home to their loving husbands and perfect families?  One by one they abandoned her at the cheesy sports bar with nothing but half hearted apologies and change cab fare. 

In her head Emma was screaming, "F**k you.  I'm sorry I don't have the life you do, the husbands that shower you with attention and love instead of fists and anger.  If you were so concerned about my safety why didn't you ever ask about the bruises, black eyes, and swollen lips?" 

Tears were now streaming down Emma's face.  These weren't tears of sadness or guilt, but anger and fear.  Anger because this wasn't supposed to be her life.  She wasn't supposed to get pregnant her junior year in college.  She wasn't supposed to be the one that gave up her dreams to be a stay at home mother and housewife.  And she certainly wasn't supposed to be the one that married an abusive man who hurled insults at her about as often as his fists. 

            There it goes again; the f*****g vibrating pierced her ears like a knife.  "Jesus Christ, do I have a curfew?  F**k you!" 

Anger now turned to fear.  Because deep down she knew it wasn't one of her girlfriends, it was Him.  Checking up on her.  She knew what was waiting for her at home.

            "Where were you last night you w***e?'

            "I told you I went out with the girls."

            "Liar!" 

            "No, please not in front of the children!"

            Emma was not sure how long she lay shaking with fear, but it was long enough to know that she was in trouble.  Who could protect her?  She had nowhere to go. 

The vibrations continued to disturb the quiet room.