HAPPY FOREVER AFTER

The next morning, Emma was awakened by the loud buzzing of the bedside digital clock. She pushed down the snooze button, restoring quiet, then rolled away from the clock, groaning.

“I wish you would ring ten hours later, not just ten minutes” she said

A few moments later, she threw back the covers, heaved herself out of bed, slipped into her bedroom slippers, and padded into the kitchen.

She glanced at the wall clock and saw it was five thirty. A full day of work lay before her. And another encounter with Daniel Rohan. She sighed.

She hadn’t been able to sleep that night. Thinking about him, the stupid conversation from hell, him leaving angrily. She didn’t want to hurt him. She thought. But she didn’t want to get hurt either.

Some clothes lay on top of the washer. She couldn’t get to them when she got home yesterday as she had planned. After Daniel left, she just took off her clothes and went straight to bed. Unable to do anything else. She was always thinking of him. She hated that.

Emma stuffed the clothes into the machine and poured in detergent. She leaned a hip against the washer, crossed her thighs, and watched it swish back and forth.

A flash of scarlet trim swirled on the water. It was the same shade of Michelle’s fingernails, Emma thought. Hmm, Advertising executive, he had said. Obviously a helpless one, judging by the way he had assisted her into his office that day.NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

She slammed down the washer lid. Why the hell was she so worried about seeing Michelle. It wasn’t her business. But she was so jealous.

The gas hissed as she turned it on, but quietened when she put the kettle to boil. Then she moved into the bathroom and turned on the bath and locked the door behind her.

She always locked it, automatically, although there was no need to do that. She smiled and unlocked it again.

It was silly, really, when one thought about it, because she often walked into the kitchen or sitting room on her way back from the bath without a stitch of clothing on her back. But she knew exactly why she always locked doors.

It dated back to her early childhood when she had been imprisoned in the lavatory one afternoon when her mom and sister were out.

An eight year old child can suffer quite absurd terror from ridiculous and impossible fears. She had been afraid of two things, one of them that she might never be found and would die there, all alone; the other that an unknown something might appear from the lavatory basin if she pulled the plug.

Those two hours of torture might never have reduced her to the state of abject terror and hysteria in which she had eventually been found, had she used her common sense.

As her mom had explained to her, her cries would most certainly be heard, and even if they were not, someone would be bound to want to go into the lavatory long before she could starve to death!. As to the bogey man or whoever it was she expected to appear when she pulled the plug– well if there were such a person, she need never have pulled the plug at all.

“So you see, darling” her mom had said gently. “You were afraid for nothing”

“I will never lock a door again”. The eight year old Emma had sobbed. “Never, never”

“Yes, you will”. Said her understanding mother. “You will lock every door that has a key, otherwise you will always be afraid”

So Emma had done this until the fear slowly disappeared, and she thought no more about it. But the habit of locking doors remained.

Emma smiled at the memory. She wished her mom was there so she could talk to her. She always gave the best advice. Advice that made her feel better. She wondered what her mom would say if she told her about Daniel.

She took off her clothes and climbed into the bath. The warm water closed over her body and gradually she felt her limbs relaxing, and a pleasant, soothing drowsiness steal over her.

She remembered the kettle, and dragged herself reluctantly from the bath. She dried herself. She decided she would have bacon and eggs for breakfast.

It was seven when Emma made her tea. It was still early. She thought. But she had to pick Tom today so they could go to work together. God knows what happened to his car.

She got dressed and an hour later she was at Tom’s house. She reversed her car and pulled into the driveway. She touched her horn lightly. Tom didn’t show.

As the minutes stretched by, she glanced uneasily at the dashboard clock. She couldn’t be late… Daniel would love it. She wasn’t his favorite person right now. She thought. She touched the horn again, then came out of the car.

She walked to the door and knocked.

“Come in, Emma,” said Tom’s voice from within.

Emma walked in. “What the hell?” she said when she saw that Tom wasn’t even dressed yet.

“Sorry, Emma” he said hurrying to his bedroom. “I just need to get dressed… I have already showered”

Emma sighed, turning away. “You have to hurry…” she said. “God knows what you have been doing since… We are going to be late”

“Hi, Emma” a voice said

Emma turned around and saw Monica. She was putting on one of Tom’s shirts and was coming out of his bedroom.

“Oh…” Emma said.”Now I know what he’s been doing”

Monica laughed. “Hi girl,” she said… what’s up”

“I should be asking you that”. Emma replied smiling.

Tom emerged from the bedroom still buttoning his shirt. He gave Monica a kiss on her cheek.

“Bye, babe,” he said. “Let’s go, Emma”

“Babe?” Emma repeated. “I’m gonna talk to you later, Monica” she said as she left with Tom.

“Do you have any idea how late we are, Tom?” she asked as they got in the car.

“Sorry…” he said. “I lost track of time”

“I’m sure you did”

Emma sighed. She was going to be late for work no matter how fast she drove.

They arrived a good fifteen minutes late. Emma and Tom went into the building.

Two men waited at her desk.

Barrett, his face impassive, shifted uneasily as he watched her stalk towards her desk.

The other man was Daniel Rohan.