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“We need to focus…” John whispered, looking around frantically. “Do you see a condom anywhere, Emily? I’m serious. This is important and I need to know.”
“A condom…for what?”
He gave her a flat look and began to jerk open the drawers beside the bed in a frantic manner, his hands shaking, muttering something softly to himself.
“John did we… did we…?” she whispered nervously.
“I’m pretty sure that we did…”
“We got married?”
“I don’t know, but I sure remember us doingthat…” he said nervously, pointing at the bed, right before he yanked back the covers and winced. “Oh man… this is not good…”
The bedding was obviously stained – from them.
“Oh my gosh…” Emily squeaked out nervously, her anxiety ramping up wildly as she stared at the bedding. She was married – and had sex? To who? To John?
She let out a sob of terror as she realized that something had happened without her knowledge that was incredibly life changing… and if she had married someone, possibly John? She’d been intimate with him and couldn’t remember any of it…
That was emotionally traumatizing, because deep down inside, she was a fanciful girl just like any other woman.
She always dreamed of maybe falling in love, being swept off her feet, and carried off into the sunset by a man who loved her.
… Having the man that you cared for searching for a used condom in a panic after a ‘wedding night’ was like being slapped in the face.
Obviously, he didn’t want children and was wildly freaking out himself. Did John not want children at all? Or didn’t want children…with her?
“Emily,” John slammed some of the drawers, searching wildly, looking under tables, the bed, chairs, and in trash cans, before looking at her as she stood beside the bed, still staring in shock and horror at the evidence that was unable to deny.
“Emily?” he said again, in a shaky broken voice. “I am so sorry. I never meant to… I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
His devastated green eyes were staring at her, looking so scared and frightened that it made her feel almost gutted. Rejected.
“What time is it?”
“One in the afternoon…”
She sighed heavily, putting both of her hands over her face, as her shorts fell to the ground again, pooling around her ankles. Is this what shock felt like?
The convention had started and she missed the check-in.
She heard him whisper her name – and immediately yanked up the shorts again, realizing her hands were trembling and she was crying. This was a mess, and her entire world was falling apart before her eyes.
An absolute and utter mess!
John walked over to her, taking the shorts and reaching for the laces on the inside of the band to tighten them… only to have her immediately balk at the invasive touch, slapping his hands away. He mutinously tied them, despite her reaction – and then pulled her into his arms.
“Please don’t cry, honey…” he whispered, smoothing her hair. “We’ll figure this out and maybe between the two of us we can piece together what happened last night.”
“I don’t remember anything except us talking about splitting some ice cream…”
“I know I was feeling really tipsy…”
“Wait,” she whispered, freezing as she hugged him, clenching nervously.
“What?”
“Cotton candy…” she breathed, looking up at him. “The waitress told us about a place outside that has cotton candy souvenir drinks and we didn’t order the ice cream. I think we went there instead...”
