by Paula Mabbel
“Ridley,” she mumbled, as her body shuddered with the last waves of her orgasm.
“Yes, baby, yes. God, you’re perfect,” he tried to speak, as he rammed into her some more.
Oblivious to anything else but the bliss they shared, he came undone, completely lost in her lustful eyes.
Sweat beads glistened on his forehead as he collapsed on top of her, his lips gently brushing on her neck.
Emma felt so tired that she barely acknowledged his kiss. The experience of the last few hours had gotten the better of her and she drifted off to sleep, completely at ease and safe in his arms.
*****
She had planned on coming home Sunday afternoon at the latest, knowing that she had to work on her essay, but ended up sneaking into her room on Monday morning.
Too busy learning to ride by herself, gathering info on his horse rescue center, or making crazy hot love with Ridley, she had completely forgotten about coursework.
“Oh, my God,” she whimpered, barely dragged herself to her desk.
It took her half an hour to fumble through her books, and more than two hefty cups of strong coffee, before she could manage to write down the first line.
Only a miracle of nature made it possible for her to finish her essay just in time for the first seminar. A cold shower helped her muster just enough energy to survive through the course so she could deliver her work after class.
Having skipped her noon class to catch up on some sleep, she had to deal with her roommate's scrutinizing stare all day. On top of that, she felt lousy for hours, a strange case of an upset stomach tormenting her on and off.
Her mood improved significantly in the evening, when Ridley called. Emma giggled like a little girl, too happy to hear his voice.
Everything seemed perfect until he gave her the dreadful news.
“Tomorrow I would be gone the entire day, so don’t be upset if I don’t pick up, alright, doll?”
“What?” She felt sick to her stomach again.
“Well, you know how your phone didn’t get a signal when your car broke down? I’ll be in the same situation tomorrow.”
She sighed.
“Now, don’t be like that, baby girl. Tomorrow evening I’ll be back home.”
She could surely survive the day, right?
Too tired to think too much about the next day, Emma slept like a log. In the morning she had to face the fact that they would be completely apart for the entire day.
During classes, she struggled to focus enough to take notes, too busy counting the seconds until she would hear his voice again.
The huge amount of reading she had to do, on top of the mandatory essays, didn't do anything to improve her mood.
“Well, maybe it’s a good thing. It’ll keep my mind occupied,” she tried to think positively. It didn't work, especially not on an empty stomach.
It turned out that a humble PB&J was the perfect source of mental energy. Soon, she was so focused on her work that she didn't even hear her roommate coming in. In fact, she managed to go through almost half of the things on her to-do list before her phone finally rang. Checking the time, she was surprised to see it was almost midnight. Ridley's caller ID could only come as a sweet reward for a good day's work.
“Hey,” she cooed, abandoning her school books.
She confessed to him that her day was difficult without him, information that he seemed to like.
“Of course you missed me, baby girl. You're mine,” he stated with confidence.
“I can't bear another day like this,” Emma cried, her lips pursing into a pout.
“Oh, dear. This was nothing, baby. Sometimes I go for more than one day at a time.”
He sounded cheerful, like he wanted to make light of the situation. Emma felt broken.
“When?”
“What?”
“When do you have to leave for days?” she asked again, her voice small. She felt on the brink of crying.
“Oh, let me think. I believe I have some obligations with a friend of mine next week. Why?”
“Next week? For how long?”
“Around three days. Now, don’t be sad, baby…”
“Can I come see you this weekend?”
Her heart sank listening to his silence.
“This weekend I have some things to help my momma with. I’m home every night, but during the day I'm engaged, baby.”
Long after the conversation had ended, she couldn't shake the sadness. Where she usually spent hours working through the night, she couldn’t find any motivation tonight. She just sulked in bed, too blue to even think straight. What was the point of everything?
At some point, her body won and she fell asleep.
The alarm woke her up from a restless sleep, and she needed a few long seconds before she could manage to rise to her feet.
Splashing some cold water on her face, she got an idea. Why not go see him tonight? She welcomed the idea with a mischievous smile.
She sent him a text before class, notifying him of the change of plans.
His typical reply came almost immediately: “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
*****
Emma almost dropped her head on the table. She couldn't remember ever being so tired.
Looking around, she realized she was completely alone in this section of the library, which was nothing out of the ordinary since there were no exams this time of year.
She shuffled the books in front of her and sighed again.
“Maybe if I sleep a little bit, I will be just fine. I only need a couple of hours, right?” she thought, closing her books one by one.
She hadn’t retained any of the information on the last pages anyway.
Deciding that going back to her room would only take more precious time, she laid her head on the heavy table and fell asleep the next second.
The exhaustion of juggling the heavy coursework she had picked for this semester and constantly driving down to see Ridley was starting to get to her.
Over the last few weeks she had disregarded more and more of her obligations, unable to help herself from being with him. Several times a week she slept at his place, taking advantage of the few days he wasn’t away this time of year, and always driving back to campus as late as possible. She hadn’t skipped a class in her life until now. This last week she had attended only half of her courses, missing even a mandatory lecture.
She had tried to make up for it by staying late and doing as much work as was physically possible, but four hours a night, seven days a week had depleted her energy.
From all the stress troubling her lately, Emma had a nightmare that woke her up from her library catnap in a startle. She hugged herself, cold sweat trickling down her spine.
The automatic lights on several of the empty sections of the library had turned themselves off, and darkness surrounded her on three sides. Shivering, she gathered her books and hurried out.
The night sky was clear, shy stars twinkling on the vast canvas above the campus, but she couldn’t see them. She was too tired and her only mission was to get to her bed, to hell with coursework.
A migraine was pressing on her temples and she feared it would keep her from falling asleep. Once in the dorm room, she searched the bathroom for some painkillers, but couldn’t find any. The pain felt like a weight on her head and she knew that if she wanted to make the most out of what was left of the night, she needed to take care of it.
Careful not to make a sound, already feeling guilty for bailing on her roommate a few days ago when she was too tired to remember she had promised to attend a protest Mary had organized, Emma sneaked into Mary’s room and rummaged through her nightstand.
“What are you doing?” Mary’s sleepy vice startled her.
“Nothing, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just needed a painkiller.”
She stepped back, ashamed.
“Check the glass bowl. What time is it anyway?”
“A
few minutes past 3. Go back to sleep,” Emma whispered, relieved to find the pills.
“Why were you up so late?”
“I…had to do some work for one of my courses.”
“You mean you had to catch up with the rest of the world?”
She shrugged, not wanting to explain herself. Every time her roommate started questioning her, Emma became defensive. The other reason she had let her roommate down last week was because Mary had expressed her doubts about Emma’s relationship with Ridley. She had said it was too intense to end well and the conversation had ended in an argument.
Emma scurried out of Mary’s room before another confrontation arose.
“You know it’s crazy to be up this late night after night. You’re going to kill yourself. And for what?” she heard her roommate, who seemed to shuffle out of bed.
“Mary, I have a headache. I am in no mood for your lectures right now, OK? Good night.”
She felt her anger rising and thanked God she was too tired to give in to it.
Once in bed, she fell into a deep sleep fast, her body eager to repair itself.
Her alarm went completely unnoticed, but a hand shaking her shoulder woke her up unceremoniously.
“What?” she mumbled, unable to open her eyes.
“You need to wake up. Now,” her roommate ordered.
Emma was too tired to reply and was already drifting back to sleep when she felt the warmth of coffee steam right under her nose. This was tempting enough to make her open her eyes, sit up, and face the dreadful conversation she sensed was coming her way.
Dangling her feet over the edge of the bed, she grabbed the mug with both hands and decided to keep her eyes on the ground for the ordeal.
“Well?” Mary demanded, after a few minutes of tense silence.
“Why don’t you spell it out, Mary?”
“You want to be like that?Fine.”
She stormed out of the room and Emma thought she could finally breathe easily, but Mary came back shortly, having brought her pocket mirror.
“Look. I don't need to tell you anything. See for yourself,” she said, thrusting the mirror in Emma’s hand.
She wanted to be stubborn and averted her eyes. Her effort proved to be futile, her tired eyes managing to catch a glimpse of the reflection. She gasped.
Her face was pale, the dark circles under her eyes bluish against the fairness of her complexion. Bloodshot eyes and lifeless hair completed a picture of pure misery. Just like she felt.
She smacked her lips and felt her mouth go dry and cottony. Her hands were shaking, and she barely had the strength not to spill her coffee.
Defeated, she dropped the mirror in her lap, turning it face down, too ashamed to see herself.
“Shall I ask again?” Mary boomed.
“What do you want?” Emma whispered, too weak to fight.
“I want you to be well. You’ve seen yourself. Do you think you look well?”
“What do you want me to do?” Emma insisted, looking up at her roommate.
“Something! You cannot go on like this. Do you hear me? You’ll die before graduation. Hell, before the end of the semester!”
“I just have a bit of a backlog, that’s it. I’ll talk to my teachers, maybe see a counselor, and I’ll get through it.”
“You’re not listening to me.”
Emma met her gaze. She truly didn't understand what her friend wanted.
“Are you going to see him tonight?” Mary asked softly, changing tactics.
The thought of Ridley holding her brought a smile to her lips. She did want to see him tonight, but was afraid she wouldn’t manage. But she had already planned to leave some of the already past-due work for tomorrow. One night with him would give her just enough energy to work.
“See? That’s what’s wrong with you!”
“I don't understand you, Mary. What do you want? Just spell it out.” Emma was starting to feel irritated.
“Look, it’s your life, after all, and I can't tell you what to do…”
“That’s right, you can't,” Emma cut her off.
Mary raised her eyebrows, for a second looking like she wanted to retaliate. But then she backed off. Turning for the door, she threw over her shoulder:
“I see you can’t see anything past his cowboy boots. Find a way to make it work, if you want him so much that you’re willing to give up your health and your dreams. If he means more to you than your future as a pediatrician, then marry him or something. But you can't do both. You’ll kill yourself.”
The thud of the door made Emma jump. Tears rolled down her cheeks, the struggle to admit Mary was right being too painful to cope with. She curled on her bed, forgetting about the coffee she was holding. The liquid spilled all over the floor. She didn’t bother to clean up. Instead, she let the mug slip from her trembling fingers.
“What is happening?” she asked herself, tears blinding her eyes as violent sobs started shaking her small body.
*****
The entire day turned out to be a waste. Emma couldn’t muster the strength to get up, losing all motivation to attend classes or catch up with coursework.
She spent all day in bed, either crying until her eyes burned or falling in and out of a troubled and restless sleep. The headache had come back with renewed strength.
Awakened by the need to use the bathroom, she glanced at her phone and saw two missed calls from Ridley. Her heart ached at the thought of him.
Checking the time, she learned it was late; he had to have been home for hours.
After coming back empty handed from a trip to the fridge, she called him back. She couldn’t suppress a heavy sigh when he picked up.
“What happened, baby girl?” he asked. She could sense the alarm in his voice.
“Nothing. I’m sorry.”
“What for? Are you alright, baby?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose to stop the tears that were threatening to choke her up.
“Hello?”
“I’m fine, baby. It’s OK. I’m sorry I haven’t picked up your calls.”
“Where are you?”
“In my room. Why?”
“I was just there, 15 minutes ago. You didn’t answer the door. I’m coming again.”
“What?”
He had hung up already and she panicked. He sounded upset. Was he mad at her for not picking up his calls?
He said he had knocked on her door earlier. He was concerned. Maybe he was checking up on her instead?
She felt guilty for putting him through something like that and, with renewed energy, she went into the bathroom to freshen up, then cleaned the coffee stain as well as she could. She was on her way to the kitchen to make some more coffee when she heard the knock on the door.
“Just a minute!” she yelled, throwing the dirty paper towels in the trash.
When she unlocked the door, Ridley stepped right in. She blushed, sheepishly looking at her feet.
“You look unwell. What happened, Emma?”
“I’m fine,” she lied, swallowing hard. He wrapped her in his arms tightly. Just what she needed, the safety of his body. The happiness of seeing him brought tears to her eyes.
“Your roommate told me you weren’t well when I called. She said she arranged for you to be excused from your courses today, but didn't tell me what was wrong,” he informed her.
“She did?”
“What’s going on?” he asked again.
“I…nothing. Just tired, I guess.”
She walked into the kitchen and fumbled with the coffee filter. She didn't trust herself to look at him.
He sat at the small table separating the kitchenette from the living room and watched her with concern in his eyes.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong. Right, baby?” he began.
She nodded.
“I’d like to think you trust me enough to confide in me.”
“I do,” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Then why don’t you tell me? I’ll do my best to help you, you know that.”
She didn’t know how to tell him, but she wanted to get it out in the open too badly.
“I don’t know what to do, Ridley.”
“About what?”