Emilia

"I don't want to discuss this anymore. This is my final decision."

"So what am I supposed to do while you travel again? How do I know you're not cheating on me this time?" I roared at my husband as he briskly packed the last of his suitcases.

He proceeded to ignore me and reached for clothing items. I spun around placing my hands on the designer dresser, trying to calm the fuck down. I knew it. I just know this time he's cheating. I think it's really sad I let it get that far.

I should have known marrying into all this would be the complete opposite of what it is right now. I am fucked. My husband hasn't touched me for months. Not that I can call him a proper husband. He comes from a prominent family business that parents arranged like it was a business deal straight out of college. The choice was never in my favor: I marry him and help my family out or they'd disown me.

I should have just bit the bullet and left the state; changed my name or something. John will never give me a divorce, surely. I could imagine it right now. Me going to the lawyers, watching them laugh in my face as I struggle to regain back my dignity from everything that was taken from me.

I hate this life. I hate John for robbing me of a possible future in anything. A shot gun marriage was never on my bucket list. Neither was feeling incredibly frustrated sexually. Fuck, when was the last time I had an orgasm? One that I didn't get from a battery operated machine?

I know that sex isn't everything but it means nothing anymore. I can't do this. I can't live like this every day while I know, I just fucking know he finds ways to get it when he can. Our families could care less about our happiness.

"Miss Emilia do you want to—" I interrupted before my housekeeper continued.

"No! Leave now." I said, gravely. I didn't turn around.

I didn't want to look at anyone. I was so mad and seething with anger that I couldn't think straight. I just can't sit back and watch as my husband treats me this way.

Before I could get a chance to stop him, John left without looking at me.

"This is pointless." My words shook out as the door to the garage slammed shut. "Maybe…there's got to be some way."

I got up in the huff, pushed passed my maids in the hallway and ran as fast as I could downstairs almost falling flat on my face as I went down.

I saw the car lights move further away from the big window and knew I was too late. I couldn't run outside and catch him. The driver listens to John over me. He's the alpha. He's the head of the household. I panicked. My body convulsed as I held onto the edge of the counter to steady myself.

I almost didn't feel like I was in my body. I felt around and fell down with a thumb, taking an envelope with me. Scrounging my brows, I found myself examining it. I looked at the curtains and stood up with it. I made sure to check outside if he was still there. It was no use, he'd left already; I didn't even hear the engine in the distance. Fuck. Too late, I'm always too late to hope he'll listen, what else is new?

I glanced back at the envelope in my hand.

This shit is pretty ominous. I sat down at the table fumbling with it. It didn't feel like a letter. It felt trouble. John had a knack for taking the shallow route in these instances due to his frequent absences, and I've forgiven him every time. I am tired of doing it. Sick and tired of being here. Waiting, hoping he'll notice me. Giving this marriage a chance was the worst thing I ever did to myself.

I feel like running away, somewhere anonymous where nobody would find me. I pinched myself before I took the envelope in my hand and ravenously tore it open with a knife.

Inside was my worst nightmare. Money, much more than I really wanted and a small note. That's John's style. Keep it short and vapid. Thanks a lot, now I feel better about myself to what I've been reduced to: a trophy. Someone you marry for profile, business and status. I'm beginning to think this is how men really operate.

I just wish I could for once cut out the middle man and finally have something that feels amazing. Something I could wake up to and not dreadful as I got sucked inside of it.

I feel like doing something really fucked up, something that'll get his attention on me for once. I told my maids that I was going out for a drive. To where? I don't really care. Just as long as I am away from the suffocation that is this place. How I did not die in here sooner is a miracle.

Hoping that John would get it wasn't going to cut it anymore. I had to do something big, something that will even the score. This is a game I'm willing to play, fuck, I had this plan before but I was too chicken shit to carry it out. I cared about his feelings too deeply. Now that's over. Now my feelings will matter, as they should have.

I brought the money with me and burned the note on the sidewalk as I slide into my sports car—or John's "I'm sorry gift" for missing my birthday in November. I wish I could run him over with it. Would be too easy. I only want him to suffer.

I just drove and kept driving until I reached Hollywood and Vine. I didn't realize I was near city lights so blinding it felt like you were in Las Vegas. Prostitutes, hustlers, street performers, stage acts, mimes, it damn near felt like everyone was out to play. Everyone except me.

I parked in the back of the first pub I saw. I made sure to lock everything before leaving. You can't be too careful with this area. I made a call to John while I leaned against my car. I know it a waste but I needed to say something to him that can't wait until he comes back.

I went with it. As soon as the call went to voice mail as predicted, I came out with it…

"Hello John. You left before I could tell you this. I don't want this marriage anymore. You've done nothing but hurt me over and over and I am sick of putting up with it every time. I'm not going to be tied to man who treats me this way. I hope you know I am giving the money you put in that envelope away. That's right you can't buy me off anymore. I'm not a toy and you can't play me any longer. Just because our parents forced us both into this arrangement it doesn't mean you can act like we don't know each other. At one time we did and I know those days aren't coming back. It's over John. I'm separating and soon I'm giving you the papers you deserve. Goodbye, enjoy your sluts." I roared the last of the words and hung up.

I could help the tears from stinging the corners of my eyes. I hated crying in public. Worse, I just hate crying in general. I hold my feelings in most of the time so this feels overwhelming. I wiped them clean and made my way to the front entrance. I checked my ID at the front door. I'm used to getting carded so I automatically show people my license before they ask.

I charged to the front of the pub. It wasn't crowded tonight. It seemed like one of those places that always had a small audience. There's a platform stage for the performers but no one was on there.

I looked at the barkeep cleaning glasses and rolled my eyes as I flashed my ID. When I gave him my order I hopped onto the stool and felt the sulking vibes drip in. This is not the way I thought my life would go. I immediately grabbed the bottle of New Castle beer before it hit the coaster. I was feeling thirsty, unbridled and a little bit desperate. The first swig chilled my throat, burning my insides reminding me of how much I missed the taste.

I sure as fuck am not a lightweight. I could down about 10 of these and feel absolutely nothing inside. It'd be like wine coolers for me.

My phone beeped and vibrated. Shit. Fuck. Double fuck. It's him. I prayed it was one of the housekeepers making sure I was OK. I did leave in a horrific way. I know I probably came off as borderline psychotic. Still, I'm not sure I want to be bothered right now. The message was tame but I knew he was just trying to scare me.

From: John
I'd like to see you try.

I don't know what I'm going to do when I get back. That house is so big I almost got lost in it a couple times. I really didn't want this life, I never asked for it. If I could give it back I would. Wiping my eyes was not how I thought this night would go. Honestly, I believed things were going to change before I found out about the trip. Of course it was last minute. John promised me we would have a talk on the weekend. To spring this on me was the last straw that broke the camel's back. I more than despise him I hope his dick falls off from all the extra fucking he's doing.

I knew he never loved me but it still was harder to accept, maybe it was different when we were attracted to each other. Now I'm just his obedient wife. His product. Somebody our parents could sell off just to look good in front of the other WASPs shitheads out there. Fuck him. I am so tired of hoping.

"You ok?" I heard in front of me looking up at the bartender.

He was good looking, in that headshot-I-have-a-audition-I-can't-make-lunch-tomorrow kind of way. I looked at his hand and saw a wedding band. It matched my own and I knew I didn't want to go there. Sucks, he looked like he would have been a fantastic lay. Nice broad shoulders, tall about 6'2", strong swimmer's build, striking aqua eyes, chiseled Ed Burns cheek bones you could grade cheese over and I am assuming by the enormous mitts, larger than average cock. Pity.

I downed the rest of my beer, paid the Mr. Your Loss and turned on my heel out of there. Needed to get out, my libido was going to lead that guy to problems with his wife.

I had this odd feeling I was being watched. Sometimes my intuition is usually right but it was probably because of my clothes. Showing up near the dank projects area of Los Angeles wearing designer Madison Avenue clothes is going to get you some stares; mainly from jealous people.

I didn't realize it was cold outside until I rubbed my hands together. My hair blew in my face as I jumped to the sound of a honked horn. Cab driver. When you need you can't get one and when you don't need one, they harass you. I waved him away, moving off the sidewalk as soon as a crowd of people came close to me and leaned against the pub exterior.

Being self-aware was my mantra and I knew I shouldn't be anywhere near the stained parts of the city. Maybe I had a death wish—fuck—I didn't want to go down that road. Yes I am unhappy beyond the word but my life is worth more than that.

Hell, if my waste of a human husband is fucking around behind my back then all bets are off. Why do I have to be such a doormat and take it? Fuck this, I turned around making my way back to my car, checking around me if I was actually being stalked.

More tears fell down my face as I got inside, locked the door and buckled up. I looked up and suddenly it just became a falling river. I didn't have the decency to make a sound. They were just falling. My hands were trying to keep up with it all. My makeup was mangled but I didn't care. I just didn't give a shit anymore. Bottling these emotions was something I'd grown used to.
Forcing myself to put the key into the ignition and get out of there, I tried so hard to compose my emotional state before I really went insane.

What did it feel like to be desired? I don't really remember. To have someone look at you like they mean it. I don't think love is the answer to anything no matter what anyone says. Lust is the only thing that I care about now.

I sped out of the driveway and went along the street that I refer to as "club zone" street. I'm not sure I wanted to go inside any of them. I'm not into bouncers having to examine me just to see if I was attractive enough to a free ticket to potential anonymous sex. Even if that's why I came.

I just want someone to look at me and not run. There was that feeling again, the one of being watched. When I looked up from the streetlight I saw a guy, brown hair in his eyes, Kurt Cobain style, lighting a cigarette while leaning against the corner of one of the clubs. I looked at the title and rolled my eyes. Why was this guy standing on the corner inside of waiting to get in? Probably waiting for someone, I watched him nod to the bouncer. What an odd exchange.

I found my eyes trailing up to his face, it was tight and worry-free. He wasn't particularly looking at anything, it seemed like he had all the time in the world to stand there. I didn't know this area well and I felt really uncomfortable in my clothes. This guy's wardrobe almost mirrored mine, I felt a little safer.

I was staring way too long the cars behind me beeped their horns repeatedly. Changing my mind, I wasn't going to go straight. I made a U-turn as soon as I reached the end of the next side street, feeling daring.

Notes

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