Only the Strongest Survive

by Ian Fox

  “I gave quite a bit of money to a boy who could suddenly understand everything and he took me where I wanted to be, on his bicycle.”

  “How funny.” She didn’t know when exactly she fell into his arms and didn’t care. She felt free and relaxed. “I wonder where Sally is,” she said, giggling.

  “What do we need her for?” Greg said.

  The next thing she knew his tongue was in her mouth. She wanted to resist, but remembered Michael saying she was cold and so she remained perfectly still, letting him do what he wanted. Her head was spinning and everything seemed only half real. In fact, there were moments when she even liked what was happening. When he lifted her and carried her to her bed, she knew what would follow, but again she didn’t mind. Screw virginity, screw everything, she thought.

  Greg was a gentle lover. For over an hour he caressed and kissed her body before he finally took her. She could barely wait for this to happen. It was dark and she could see very little. She felt his strong, firm body pressing on hers. His kisses no longer bothered her either and she gave in to this play of passion, thinking it was about time she became familiar with it.

  *

  In the morning, she had a headache. Luckily, Greg was no longer there.

  “Why did you foist Greg on me?” she asked Sally as they were having their morning coffee.

  “I didn’t foist anyone on you. Why don’t you tell me how it went, instead?”

  Emely tried to remember the details of the night before, but however hard she tried, nothing much came up. She could describe every minute leading up to the moment she started drinking, but afterward it seemed as if everything had happened within a few minutes. She did remember the pleasant heat that filled her head as soon as she took the first sip and then … complete amnesia.

  She scratched the top of her forehead and could feel his teeth nibbling the inside of her thigh. How dare he go down there? How could he do something like that? And I let him. Terrible. How could I? It must never happen again. She felt disgusted with herself.

  “Sally, don’t bring me any more guys. I’ll find one myself if I want one.”

  “Oh, come on, don’t be so angry. All I wanted was to liven up your boring routine.”

  “My routine is not boring. If nothing else, I want to do something with my life. Unlike you, who spends your days lying on the terrace and changing partners like underwear.”

  “Enough, Emely!” Sally’s face showed shock and anger. She drank her coffee, left the table, and within seconds she was gone from the apartment.

  Let her go, I don’t care if I never see her again. Angry tears poured when she remembered the hands that had kneaded her body. His hot lips stuck to hers and pulled at her tongue as if wanting to remove it. She could barely breathe. Her breasts had become firmer, her skin responding to the smallest touch, her body betraying her in every possible way. Damn Sally, how could she do this to me? My only friend.

  Most of all, she was angry with herself for returning his passionate kisses. Emely recalled stroking his hair with her left hand and his back with her right. It made her tremble with disgust. How could I do things like that? I’ll never forgive myself.

  When she had looked at his erect penis, she could not help laughing. She even touched it for a moment and started giggling. Now the memory made her cry. She was disgusted with herself and what she had done; it seemed dirty and vile. She made a firm decision not to do it ever again.

  Her strict convent upbringing had obviously achieved its goal.

  *

  It took five days for them to make up. Five days of avoidance and angry outbursts. Emely never thought the presence of her friend could bother her so much. What she really wanted was to tell her to move out. How could she have betrayed me so?

  They walked past each other like strangers, neither greeting nor looking at each other. They were in the same room, breathed the same air, but didn’t see each other. Or at least they pretended not to.

  Sally was the first to say something: “Listen, Emely, I really didn’t know that it would get to you like this. I was also shocked when it first happened to me, but I took it much better than you.”

  Emely glanced at her. “Oh, I’ve forgotten it all,” she lied. She had rubbed her body in the shower every day in the hope of washing all that dirt from it. She would have given anything to be able to turn back the clock. But that was not an option. The worst thing was dreaming about it at night, reliving it. She woke up sweaty all over, her body shaking, and wondered what was happening to her and why she couldn’t stop it.

  “I would have done it sooner or later anyway,” Emely said, even though she didn’t mean it.

  “Listen, let’s go to the movies, my treat. What do you think?”

  “Mmm …. Oh, why not.” She was still mad at Sally, but it seemed pointless to prolong this situation. They were friends, after all, and they had never argued before. Why would she want to keep up this disagreement? All those previous days filled with hatred were enough.

  When they were later sitting, drinking coffee, and Emely was listening to Sally’s tales of what had happened during those five days, she had to admit she had missed her. Particularly her loud, animated voice and endless giggling.

  *

  Robert Miles listened as Sally told him things that were of no particular interest to him. From everything she had told him thus far, he would only be able to write a few sentences. But at that particular moment, this did not matter. His head was spinning and Emely was of no importance to him anymore. What he wanted was Sally, who had been leading him on all along. When she was talking, she kept pursing her lips, trying to endear herself to him like a cat.

  He put his recorder down and pushed away the table. Sally gave him a surprised look as he ran his right hand through her thick hair and pulled her closer. They merged in a passionate kiss.

  Soon he was on top of her as they lay on the sofa.

  “Please, take me now,” she begged.

  Robert unbuttoned his shirt as if it were red-hot. He waved his right arm around, trying to get rid of the sleeve, but it got stuck. At the same time, he was passionately kissing Sally and undoing his cufflink. He lost his balance and fell off the sofa.

  “Why don’t we do this on the bed, it’s much more comfortable,” she said, giggling.

  “A wonderful idea.”

  He resumed kissing her while unfastening her dress at the back.

  Sally felt her dress coming loose and she took his hands, saying, “Let’s go.”

  When they reached the huge antique bed, he again embraced her so tightly that she could feel his defined muscles. With a single move he undid the rest of the buttons on her dress so that it slipped to the floor. As if wanting to protect her, he put his right arm around her and laid her down.

  *

  Their lovemaking lasted nearly two hours. Finally, they lay there exhausted until their breathing settled down.

  “Robert, that was wonderful,” she said in his ear as she thought how Joe was not as good in bed.

  Chapter 14

  _______________________

  One evening when the skies were particularly clear so that every star was visible and John and Emely were sitting in bamboo chairs on the terrace, Emely asked, “John, what would you do if you had lots of money?”

  “You mean as much as you?”

  She smiled. “No, not quite. I don’t know, a few million?”

  John thought for a while and then said, “Nothing.”

  “What do you mean, nothing?”

  “I wouldn’t do anything. I’d let a stockbroking company invest the money and I’d live very well for the rest of my life on the income.”

  Emely nodded, expecting an answer like this. “I could never live like that. I don’t know, I just got so used to stress at work that I’d probably miss it.”

  “Nonsense. You don’t even have time for a hobby. You can’t have a life without ever having lived.”

  “What do you mean, I�
��ve never lived?”

  “Not like you live. I mean, most people are so obsessed with success that they end up forgetting to live. You know, the present moment is not important at all. It’s all work and more work. Can you tell me the last time you took a walk before you came here?”

  She could not remember.

  “Can you remember when you went hiking in the mountains?”

  No, she had no recollection of that either. “Maybe I didn’t want to go hiking in the mountains,” she said, trying to defend herself, but deep down she knew that she loved nature, just never took the time for it.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” With his finger he pushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear in order to better see her face. “I just want to say that there’s no point in accumulating heaps of money if you don’t know how to enjoy life.”

  “Maybe I really did work too much, but I was going to take it easy later in life.”

  “But would you ever be able to?”

  She felt as if she was being interviewed by the police and it made her angry. “I think I could, yes,” she said with stubbornness.

  “I don’t think so. You’ll always sit in your office morning till night until you get old. And by then you’ll have forgotten what it means to live.”

  “I agree with you up to a point. But you don’t know how it was in that orphanage. At the thought of ever being that poor again and having to do without everything, I panic.”

  “But all that was then, this is now. If you sell your company now, you’d never be able to spend all the money.”

  Emely contemplated this for a while and had to agree with him. “Perhaps I’ll do that. Maybe I’ll sell Donnovan Corporation.”

  This answer satisfied John. He didn’t expect it, but was happy that she was ready to at least think about the idea.

  Their eyes met and both became embarrassed.

  “I wouldn’t really want to have as much money as you have,” he said.

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Seriously, Emely. You’re not safe even when driving.” He instantly regretted saying this. “I mean …”

  “You’re right there,” she said angrily.

  “What I wanted to say is that you’re not as free as you were before becoming rich.”

  “Everything has its advantages and disadvantages. You can’t have everything.”

  Their conversation about working too much continued throughout the evening. The temperature had fallen and she was getting cold. When she mentioned this, John took off his sweater without hesitation and put it across her shoulders, embracing her gently. His gesture came as no surprise to her. She was expecting something like this to happen sooner or later.

  “John,” she said in a deep, stern voice.

  He did not release her, but embraced her even closer so that she felt the warmth of his body.

  “John, we agreed we wouldn’t go beyond holding hands.”

  “I know,” he said, moving his arms slightly higher, to her breasts, her most sensitive place. She had to take a deep breath as she was suddenly very hot.

  “Emely, I love you so much.”

  There was silence.

  “I love you in a way, too,” she said with difficulty. “But it’s only like sisterly love.”

  He moved his hand and she stopped talking, afraid that her voice would betray her. She could feel every bit of his body that was touching hers. Waves of arousal traveled along her body and she found it difficult to keep her voice normal. She had to get out of his arms.

  “Emely, I love you.” His arms tightened around her. “I’d do anything in the world for you.”

  “How’s that?” she said, her tone stern. “As things stand at the moment, I’m your beloved bird in a cage and then you dare say that you’d do anything for me. So what exactly do you mean by that?”

  “I’ll let you go, Emely, I promise you. But at the moment the thought of having to live without you is too terrible, inconceivable for me. Never, with anyone …”

  Without seeing his face, Emely sensed that he was crying. Her voice became softer and more understanding again. “But John, you know you cannot demand love.”

  “I know that. I was hoping that with time, if you married me, I’d do anything …”

  “Married you?” Her voice turned angry again.

  “I’d go to jail and serve the punishment for all those terrible things Ronald and I did to you.”

  He was silent for a few moments. “I’ll die for you, if you want.”

  She wanted to add something to the theme of marriage, but what he said now touched her so deep that she remained speechless. No one had ever said something like that to her before. No one in the world had ever loved her enough to be ready to die for her.

  “I promise I’ll let you go,” he said after a while. “I tell myself that there is life without you and when I’m strong enough …” He broke off, sobbing again.

  Emely sat still, not knowing what to do. She wanted to push him away, but was unable.

  “I know you’re not happy with me. I love you too much to keep you here against your will for much longer. … I will let you go, I promise.”

  She could hold on no longer. However hard she tried to stop it, a tear escaped from her right eye and slid down her cheek. She didn’t want him to see her cry, but found it impossible to keep back the tears that so badly wanted to come out.

  After a few seconds, she took his hand. “John, let’s go in.”

  He listened to her this time and let her go. His head bent down, he walked beside her forlornly, still holding her hand. It was so nice out there. A slightly humid breeze, full of scents from the trees, was announcing the arrival of winter. At least that was what it smelled of. The sun had long set and the moon, perfect and shining, ruled the sky. The stars were incredibly bright.

  Emely stopped for a few moments and admired all that beauty. Then she looked at John, who was still looking in another direction remorsefully, and they went on toward the house.

  When they got in, John proposed a nightcap.

  Emely was still restless and accepted the suggestion. “Scotch, please,” she said. “A double.”

  He poured their drinks and added some ice. Still ruminating over his words, Emely sat down on an oversized sofa. She lifted Kitty and stroked her stomach.

  John drank half of his Scotch on the way to the sofa. He sat next to Emely and before she was able to stop him, he placed his head in her lap, like a child. Knowing that in this state he could not harm her, she didn’t push him away. She stroked his hair and shoulders, smiling. What’s happening to him could be interpreted as my revenge, she thought. He was suffering, hurting inside so badly that he was crying in her lap, wailing and sobbing like a baby. Was this not what she had wanted? Had she not wanted him to suffer as she had? She wanted him to pass out with horror in the end, just like she had done. Yes, she wanted all this. What he was experiencing was only the beginning. She would get him into a position where he’d ask her to kill him and save him from such a miserable life. She wanted him to get sick from the torture she would inflict on him. And when she finished with him, it would be Ronald’s turn and his suffering would be a thousand times worse. She would shoot his limbs one at a time so that he would lie there in front of her, asking for mercy, but she ….

  She looked around the room and noticed a metal poker leaning against the fireplace. She shivered from head to toe. Her eyes could see clearly again and her breathing became inaudible. If I hit him on the head ….

  Calmly she lifted her right hand and slowly moved it toward the poker, which was only a couple feet away. She kept looking at John’s head shaking in her lap and her own right hand at the same time. Her moment had finally arrived. The moment she had been waiting for all that time. Oh God, please, don’t abandon me now. Finally, a unique opportunity has presented itself. I can’t mess up now.

  Her hand was nearly by the poker. Only a little farther, only a little. This is such an o
pportunity. It’s now or never.

  Her fingers touched the poker. God, please. I have to grab the poker and then strike with all my might. Easy, anyone could do it.

  She was holding the poker, looking at John’s head. I only have to hit it. Just one strike and it’ll all be over. The door to freedom will be open and all my suffering ended. I’ll go home.

  All her muscles tensed, her jaw tensed … but … but … she couldn’t do it. However much she tried to persuade herself, she couldn’t go through with it. How could she? She pulled her hand back and put it on John’s head again. His short hair created a pleasant feeling on her palm. She stroked him perfectly calmly, staring at one of the paintings on the wall. The question, What should I do? reverberated around her head.

  *

  Before locking her door, he hugged her gently and kissed her forehead.

  Emely sat on the edge of her bed and with her head in her hands thought about everything that had happened over the last few months. She wanted to concentrate on a single thought, but her mind darted in all directions and however hard she tried she couldn’t stop it. The tears were streaming, but she didn’t know whether they were from sadness or from John’s words that had reached into her heart. She was angry at herself. Why didn’t I hit him? I’m such a fool! Why didn’t I finish him off?

  The thought of overcoming him at some point when he became careless had given her hope and the will to live, made it possible for her to survive there. It was always in her mind. Whenever she felt miserable, she thought of this and felt better. And what have I got left now? How will I fight my way to freedom now? He’ll never let me go. Damn it, I should’ve hit him.

  She struck her right hand against the damp wall so that a dull thud could be heard, but all it achieved was to make her hand hurt. She screamed and burst into hysterical tears, crying for a long time. Then she closed her eyes and relaxed her body so that she collapsed onto the bed. It had been a long time since she had last felt so drained of energy.