Runaway Groom
When I got into my hotel room, I thought that the first thing I would do was get a bubble bath and then go to sleep, but it wasn’t. Yes, I did have a long, soothing bubble bath, but after I went to bed, I couldn’t fall asleep. I tried falling asleep in every angle and every corner, but it didn’t work. I was too high on adrenaline, and I decided to throw myself a celebration.
I called room service and ordered myself two bottles of wine, a two–layered chocolate ice cream cake, and some much–needed food.
I had lost contact with most of my friends when I got married to Eric because he always pressed me about my nosy friends and told me we should be focusing on building our family and the company. He wanted to prove to his father that he was capable so his father would retire early and let him run the company and I wholeheartedly supported him. What a fool I had been.
The truth was I didn’t really mind distancing myself from those friends because Rita was there, and she was always the friend I needed. She was my best friend. I told her everything about me. She was the one who knew everything about nie. I thought I was her best friend too. I thought that our relationship was something to be proud of but I guess I should have known better.
Right now though? I didn’t mind having this party on my own.
I did manage to hurt Eric and Rita today. I did deserve to celebrate on my own the way I wanted. I wore lingerie. I poured myself glasses of wine. I cut the cake. I blasted music on full volume. I danced. I laughed, and I had fun all on my own before I eventually just fell asleep.
I didn’t know when it was that I eventually fell asleep or how long I had partied on my own, but the insistent knocking and the ringing of my phone woke me up from my sleep.
I opened my eyes and realized it was already morning. The next day had arrived, and the sun was up, its harsh light making my head hurt.
I groaned. The persistent knocking and ringing of the phone not helping.
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I shouted as I stumbled out of bed.
I looked around and realized the room was a mess, clothes scattered everywhere. I held my aching head as I slowly made my way toward the door.
When I opened it, there stood Emmerson, staring at me, with a look I couldn’t tell on
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Runaway Droom
his face. He hit the end button on his phone slowly and put it in his pocket.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked him, still half asleep.
He stood there for a moment, his eyes scanning me.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine….”
“Can I come in?” He asked sharply. I frowned,
“Yeah, get in, I guess…” I stepped aside, letting him pass before I shut the door and followed him into the room.
“Why weren’t you picking up your calls? And why did it take you half an hour to open the door? I almost called the hotel to come and unlock the door. I thought something had happened to you.”
He looked shaken, a mix of anger, worry, and frustration on his face. I sighed and gestured towards myself and the room.
“As you can see, I’m fine, but my head is killing me.” I groaned.
He glanced around the room, taking in the results of my night, then looked back at me with a suspicious expression.
“What’s going on? Did you throw a party in here?”
I could hear the suspicion in his voice.
“Yeah, I did have a party,” I said, rolling my eyes.
His eyes narrowed. “On my own, okay? I was on my own and decided to throw myself a party.” I continued.
“Then why are there two glasses here?” he asked, his tone growing sharper.
“Because I couldn’t just order all this stuff with one glass,” I snapped. “I just decided to get two glasses, okay? Look, my head is killing me. I need something to stop it.”
“Wait right there,” he said, softening his voice as he helped me sit down.
He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with some ice cubes. Then het grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me.
I gratefully popped the pills and clutched the water bottle close.
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Runaway Gro
Emerson watched me the whole time as I lay there, head resting on the back of the sofa. I stayed still until the throbbing in my head subsided and the headache faded.
When I finally looked up, I could see his face, a mix of anger and concern. His jaw was tight, but his eyes showed he was worried.
“What is it? What’s going on?” I asked, not quite understanding why he was so upset.
“What’s going on is that I’ve been calling you, and you haven’t been picking up. Then I come here and find this. You’re telling me you threw this party and made this mess on your own?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to stay calm.
“And you were here on your own?”
“Yes,” I repeated getting a bit more irritated.
“And you’re still here on your own?”
“Yes! The whole night!” I was getting frustrated.
“And what happened in the bedroom?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“Excuse me? What do you
mean?”
“Your bedroom,” he clarified. “It has clothes scattered everywhere. Your makeup is
in places it shouldn’t be in the bathroom. What is really going on?”
“Nothing is going on, Emerson!” I chuckled trying to lighten the mood, but he didn’t share the same enthusiasm.
He stared at me, not amused.
“Okay, maybe I should be the one asking questions.” I said,
“What’s going on?”
“Have you been in contact with Eric?” he said, and that caught me off guard.
“Eric? Why would I be talking to him? We’re already divorced. We signed the papers. As I told you, I gave him everything. There’s nothing for him and me to discuss.”
Emerson studied me, clearly debating whether to believe me. “I am just making sure because Rita came to the house this morning looking for him. Apparently, he didn’t go home last night, and his phone was switched off. From calling his friends, nobody has heard from him since the wedding.”
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I raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t know. Looks like Rita’s problem, not mine.”
I leaned back and let out a chuckle, then burst into laughter. The irony was too much. Here I was, quietly planning my own revenge, and yet Eric and Rita were creating their own demise.
Emerson’s lips twitched, a smile creeping in despite his best efforts to stay serious.
“Run away groom? Come on you have to admit it’s a little funny.”
“Okay, it ‘is‘ a little funny,” he admitted, finally giving in.
“Come on; it’s hilarious! Just after the wedding and now Eric is off doing who knows what.” I continued to laugh, the absurdity of it all hitting me.
Emerson joined in, and we both shared a moment of laughter.
“So,” Emerson said, his laughter finally subsiding, “you’re telling me you haven’t talked to him at all? He hasn’t called you? He hasn’t been here? He’s not the reason.
did this whole thing?” He asked gesturing at the room around us.
you
“No!” I shook my head. “I actually didn’t know he disappeared. This is the first time. I’ve heard about this.”
“He hasn’t disappeared. He just hasn’t gone home, and he’s not picking up his phone. Rita’s beside herself. She came into the house crying and causing a huge scene. She thinks he went to look for you. She’s convinced he’s with you.
My eyes widened. “What?”
“What? You can’t be serious.” I stared at him, waiting for some sign that he was joking, but his face was pale, and he looked dead serious. “You’re serious?”
“Yes, I am,” Emerson replied, his voice low. “She was so convinced it was you. It forgave her for bursting into my house uninvited. She’s one of the reasons I had to come here. And when you weren’t picking up my calls or opening the door, I thought he was here with you.”
I blinked, unable to process his words.
“Are you sure you haven’t seen him?” he pressed on
“No, I haven’t!” I shot back, my voice rising in disbelief. “And what do you mean,‘ you‘ thought he was here? You thought ‘I‘ was with Eric?”
