Love Games

Eight: Afterglow

I laugh and laugh. After a long time, I laugh again, I laugh so hard my muscles ache.

"Go ahead and laugh, miss, just so you know, people who take their dates to such expensive restaurants expect something in return. Do you even know his name? ˝ Emma replies, now serious, her face has changed.

"I don't know. " I reply.

" And how will you know it's him? " Emma replies.

I'm worried. 

How will I know it's him? 

Will he have been here before? 

Will he see me and run away?

I cover my mouth at the thought.

But what have I got to lose? Apart from a little pride.

I raise my eyebrows.

" What are you thinking? " Says Emma.

" How the hell am I ever supposed to know who's real? We haven't met, I don't know his name, I don't know what he looks like. "I turn away and sit back on the sofa, watching Emma still fiddling around in the kitchen.

" You go in, tell the receptionist who you are, if they say you're not on the list, thank them and say you missed the restaurant or it's a mistake or something. You have a tongue and you can say that. Don't be embarrassed beforehand. What and how it will be. It will be what it will be. ˝ Emma replies. 

But she's like that, she doesn't care, she's cold, cutting, tongue-tied.

"You're right. I'll just turn around and go. "I want to believe my own words, but I want to know what her son is like, what he looks like, he's been offering him to me for a long time, what kind of mother does that? 

Does any of them? 

Or is it just me who finds it strange?

Strange things have been happening since I broke up with Dave. 

Strange people surround me, they offer themselves to me as if I'm in a shop choosing toys, the one with the fewest faults please, I want to scream.

Jack has been quiet lately, not a sound. 

The last time we spoke was at the weekend. 

Then he seemed to sink into the ground.

I feel safe around him, but at the same time I'm not scared by the fact that everyone knows him, wherever he goes, whatever he does, everyone will know about him. What he does is a job for life. 

A dangerous job. 

A way of life, I might say.

Would she ever really want that? He must have some perverted fetishes, dominance, slaves. 

Why doesn't that excite and arouse at the same time? 

Do I want to be tied up?

What's wrong with me?

I don't even know the person and I have some ideas, maybe I've read too many books. 

Maybe I've thought about it too much. 

Maybe I'm not interested in him at all?

"Come and eat something. "Emma says as she puts the plates on the table, waking me from my dark thoughts.

I jump.

I'm scared. But what was I really afraid of? The truth?

"Yes, yes, I'm coming. "I answer, slowly dragging myself into the dining room.