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You + Me 2: Face To Face

Page 22

by Emma Green

“Okay, I’m coming… Just let me go to the restroom first.”

I slip away to have a quiet moment on my own in the ladies’ room, which is a large space with dark marble walls. Out of the blue, my head starts to spin, but I’m relieved to find that no one else is here. Standing in front of the huge mirror, I splash some water on my face, promising myself I’ll never drink at a work event again.

Then, the restroom door bangs open, and I see a horrifying sight reflected back at me in the mirror. It’s Wilson. He strolls in, carefully closing the door behind him. Leaning against the wall, he stares at me, a strange glint in his eyes.

I turn around, feeling the floor tilt beneath my feet. “Get out! You have no reason to be here. You’ve been harassing me for weeks, and I’ve had enough! Just get out of here, Joseph!”

He laughs, and the humorless sound sends a chill through me.

“I’m not kidding. Get out, or I’ll scream!”

“Just who do you think you are? I’m your boss, in case you need reminding. And I want the two of us to have a little chat… We can chat, can’t we?”

He starts moving toward me with slow, deliberate steps.

“Wilson, take one more step, try anything at all, and I’ll make your life hell. You don’t scare me!” My voice cracks.

I’m trembling despite myself. I search for a way out, an escape route, but the alcohol keeps me from thinking clearly. I can’t even remember where I put my phone to call for help. I hate myself for drinking, for being so vulnerable.

There’s a look on Wilson’s face—the confident look of a man who believes he’s untouchable.

“Maybe I don’t scare you, but I must be having some kind of effect on you.”

“Sophie! Clarence!” I scream. “Where are you?!”

I think I’m starting to cry.

“Come here, pretty girl. I know that, deep down, you want it too.”

Wilson is right next to me, and the smell of him makes my stomach turn. In a panic, I lunge toward the door, hoping to evade him, but his arms close around me. He pins me against the cold wall and covers my mouth with his large, clammy hand to muffle my scream.

“Stop resisting, Alma.”

I thrash, twist, and push against him with all my strength, but he’s too heavy. He presses himself against me, and I can barely move. He puts his hands on me and grips my wrists, letting go of my mouth, but I don’t even have the strength to scream anymore. I’m so terrified that I freeze. Tears stream down my face. I’m living through a nightmare. My last scrap of resistance slips away, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.

Suddenly, I perceive a familiar, powerful voice in the distance. There are muffled thuds, confused shouts, then nothing. I black out completely.

10

Alma

I wake up at dawn, alone in my room with the blinds down, wearing nothing but my underwear. I have no idea how I got here like this. I have a splitting headache, and I think I’m going to throw up. A deep sense of unease gnaws at me, though I don’t know why.

Then, little by little, it all comes rushing back. The memories come one after another, each more painful than the last. Joseph Wilson tried to rape me, and I don’t know if he succeeded. Tears well up. My whole body aches. Shattered, I curl up and pull the comforter over me, as if it could somehow make me disappear.

That’s when I spot the little note left on my second pillow:

Drink plenty of water. I’m here. It’s going to be okay.

V.

Vadim.

So, it really was him who burst into the restroom just as I was collapsing. He was the one who tore me from Wilson’s arms. I don’t really like the idea that he rescued me… but I owe him so much.

That means he’s back in Paris, that he was at that party without me knowing. And if he came into the women’s restroom, it was to look for me…

I burst into sobs, overwhelmed by a hundred different emotions. I just want him here. I want to curl up in his arms and not be afraid anymore.