“Saw Alfie and was just catching up.”
As the night went on, we drank and danced. This time, I behaved myself, unlike the time on the dance floor. In the distance, I see Alfie walking Grace out. A smile crossed my face as it confirmed that Emilio wasn’t having athing with her. Liquor was flowing through my body, and I was feeling promiscuous. I sent Emilio a text asking if he was here but didn’t get a response.
At the end of our favorite song, I shout to the girls, “I’ll be back.”
When I went to the door of the showroom, there were no guards, and the door was locked. I guess it was done being used for the night. If I were Emilio, where would I be? I scanned the club but didn’t see him. Walking toward the private room, I asked familiar faces if they had seen him, but they didn’t. The private room was empty, which was disappointing. Maybe he left. I checked my phone, but he still hadn’t replied. A waitress happens to walk in to grab something from the bar.
“Hey, have you seen Emilio?” I asked.
“Should be in the office.”
Hmm, that should be fun. As I head toward the office, I push my boobs together, making sure they looked perky. Getting closer to the door, I could see the light on from under the door. I knocked before opening it, only to find it was empty. What was going on? Stepping out of the office, I walk further down the hallway. There was a strange sound that got louder the more I walked. It was a clapping sound. Turning a corner, I see a woman with her legs around a man’s waist as she was pinned against the wall. Each time the man thrust forward, it created a clapping sound followed by a thud from her body getting hit against the wall. They were still dressed; the woman just hiked up her skirt, and the man unbuttoned his pants. Standing there, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. Hearing him grunt, he pulled out once he was finished. I sigh in relief when the man turns around, and it isn’t Emilio.
Giving up on searching for him, I return to my friends. We were there until the place shut down. As I got to my car, I finally got a text back from Emilio.
Although I wasn’t as drunk as I was earlier, the alcohol was still very much influencing me, and I knew better than to drive, but my body was aching for him. I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow. I reach his building safely and stumble to his door with my heels in hand. Putting my shoes back on so that I could pose for him when he opens the door, I fall back onto my butt with a loud thump.
“Shit,” I spit out as I held my ankle, which was throbbing.
The door opened before I could move to get back on my feet. Emilio stood shirtless, his sweatpants hanging off his hips. The sight took my breath away and a smile was beginning to cross my face until I hear a woman’s voice right before exiting the door.
“I’ll keep youposted.”
When she came to full view, I saw it was Grace. She looked down at me with a confused face. Her red lipstick was completely off, and her hair, which had initially been up in a bun, was now undone, falling past her shoulders. So much for feeling secure with her and Emilio. Then it hit me. She was the woman I was watching at the last sex party and I’ve seen her around Chicago before that as well.
“Bethany?” she asked.
Embarrassed, angry, and ashamed, I was speechless. My vision was getting blurry as they began to water.
Emilio cut in, “Get back safely.”
Grace hopped over me and left while Emilio glared down at me.
“What are you doing here?”
I shrug because if I were to speak, I’d begin to sob. If I were able to run off, I would, but the shooting pain in my ankle was getting stronger. Emilio huffed as he bent down to grab me to lift me into his arms. Shutting the door behind him, he takes me to the kitchen, placing me on the island across from the fridge. He pulled out cubes of ice and placed them into a cloth so that he could ice my ankle.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” he stated without looking at me, pushing his hair back with his hand.
“Why, so that I wouldn’t be insulted knowing that you are sleeping with other people?”
He held the ice around my ankle a bit tighter. “Bethany.”
Pulling my ankle away from him, “Emilio.”
Not letting go of my ankle, he pulls it back toward him. “What do you want from me?” he steps closer so that his other hand is leaning on the countertop beside where I was sitting. “If you think this is going somewhere, you need a reality check.” He leaned in closer to my face. “This is what I didn’t want to happen. I knew you’d get attached.”
All I could muster was, “Get off of me.”
His words cut deeper than they should have. He was right—we weren’t dating or ever discussed exclusively sleeping together. I didn’t mean to get attached. Now I sat here looking and feeling a fool. All I wanted to do was end the night and forget this happened.
Emilio stepped back, letting go of my ankle and handing me the ice. Taking it, I avoided eye contact. I hopped off the counter, landed on my good foot, and limped.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Home. Where else?” my reply was sharp.
He lifted me over his shoulder and headed to the bedroom without warning.
