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-- CHAPTER 2: After the Party --
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*-- DECEMBER 2006 --*
It was just another Monday. By my rough calculations, I had already experienced over 170 such Mondays, walking through the employee entrance of Argen Laboratories and waving my badge at the RFID security gate. But never once had I walked through those doors feeling this nervous.
Big presentation? No problem. Departmental review? No sweat. Even an audit by the FDA? I could handle them.
Sleeping with a co-worker? I was freaked out.
To be honest, I'd anticipated that I might eventually knock boots with a fellow Argen employee. Of course, for the past several weeks, I'd thought that fellow employee would be Grant. And more the point, I'd thought we'd be in a dating relationship by that point.
But no, I hadn't slept with Grant. And I wasn't in a dating relationship with the guy I'd slept with. In fact, I had absolutely *no idea* what the status was of my relationship with Teddy. Three days ago I wouldn't have even termed us friends. Yeah, we were friendly. Yeah, I liked flirting with him, and he seemed to like me flirting with him as well. But we'd never even spoken to each other outside of the building.
Making love with Teddy had been spectacular. I hadn't felt so blissful post-coital with anyone in a long time, David and Amber included. Looking back, I'm sure some of it was the alcohol. But that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy the wonderful feelings of the moment.
Unfortunately, the poison-part of the intoxication process started up shortly after we finished that spectacular round of intercourse. Teddy and I were only able to cuddle in the afterglow for a few minutes before the nausea hit me. And the next thing I knew, I was buck naked and bent over my own toilet, vomiting up a foul concoction of Hennessey, Tanqueray, and Smirnoff that no bartender in their right mind would put together.
And the cute guy who had given me such pleasure, and whose good opinion I suddenly wanted? He was kneeling next to me, equally naked, holding my hair out of the way and stroking my back. Yeah, *real* impressive there, E-Beth. Great start to a relationship.
The blackouts weren't done with me yet. I don't remember leaving the bathroom, nor getting dressed. I do remember choking down a few pieces of bread and chugging a bottle of Gatorade at Teddy's insistence. But despite all his efforts, I still had quite the hangover in the morning.
And Teddy was gone.
I remembered falling asleep with Teddy spooned in behind me, holding me tenderly. I was in my PJ's and Teddy was wearing his undershirt and boxers. But when I awoke in the morning, sometime after 9am, he was no longer in my bed. In fact, he wasn't anywhere in the condo.
All that was left of him was a note:
*E-Beth,*
*I owe you an apology from the bottom of my heart. I am a complete asshole and a despicable person. When you were at your weakest, too drunk to really know what was going on, I took advantage of you. Your words and your actions told me you wanted me just as much as I wanted you. And even though I should have known you were too intoxicated to consent to what you were doing, I let myself give in to my lust. I have shamed and defiled you, and I can barely live with myself for what I have done.*
*"I'm sorry" doesn't cut it. But right now, it's all I've got. Please forgive me. And please know that I have nothing but the utmost in respect and admiration for you as a person. I never meant for things to get so out of hand. And I am completely remorseful for my actions.*
*I'll understand if you never want to see me again. I'm fully prepared to quit my job and leave you alone forever if that's what you want. I'll even turn myself into the police -- what I did was... illegal. But someday, somehow, I do hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. I don't know that I could go on if I can't find a way to make it up to you. I WILL make it up to you.*
*Teddy Harrison*
*555-2368*
I hadn't called him. I didn't know WHAT to do. Even now, I could scarcely believe that I'd slept with Teddy. And yet the evidence was all over my condo. My red wine dress, panties, and heels were still in the living room, although Teddy had collected them and put them in a pile together. There were also the glass of water, the empty Gatorade bottle, and the plate of crumbs by the sink. And of course, while my memory had holes in it, I distinctly recalled pleading with him to fuck me.
I noticed how Teddy couldn't bring himself to use the "R-word" in his letter. I know, legally, consent cannot be given when someone is intoxicated; but I knew in my heart that Teddy hadn't raped me. It was the other way around, if anything.
I knew, intellectually, that I'd felt... *something*... for him last night. Even pushing through the alcoholic fog, I'd recognized a special quality about him, something that appealed to me. I knew that I'd wanted him; but today, I didn't really know exactly why. I couldn't remember that "something" that I'd felt. And I didn't know if I ever would.
Clearly, Teddy was flogging himself over what had happened. He didn't deserve that. He deserved to know that I wasn't mad at him, even if I didn't really know what to think about the situation just yet. I wasn't remorseful. I didn't necessarily feel... dirty... or anything. I only felt confused.
I liked Teddy. I still liked Teddy. But I wasn't sure how *much* I liked Teddy. And more the point, right now, I didn't know what he thought of me. I didn't have much history to go on. All I'd really known was that he liked my tits. This was no great revelation. Lots of people, both male and female, liked my tits. That's why I put them on display the way I did. But other than that? I didn't have a clue.
I remembered one thing about last night. While we were fucking... while we were *making love*... I'd thought I could see into Teddy's soul. That was ridiculous, of course. No one can see into another's soul. But I'd thought I could understand the way he really felt about me. I'd thought that he'd had a very specific, very special thing for me. It wasn't love, but given the opportunity, it could be. He crushed on me, he admired me... he *worshipped* me, on some level.
Or was all that just a figment of my imagination?
Maybe he was half in love with me and just wanted to know that I didn't despise the very thought of him. Maybe he hoped that we could bond over this, to develop the attraction we'd felt last night, and perhaps build a relationship out of this mess.
Maybe he thought I was just a drunken slut who was easily seduced and discarded by a charming womanizer. Maybe he was more or less indifferent to me and just porked me while he had the opportunity and then wanted to get as far away from me as he could. Maybe the letter was just an elaborate ruse to defuse my anger and a cover so that I wouldn't press charges against him.
Or maybe he DID have feelings for me at some point... in the past. But now that he'd found out what a complete mess I was, getting totally hammered and letting myself get screwed by a guy I barely knew at the very first opportunity, he'd realized I wasn't a "quality" girl worth any further thought.
I didn't know. And until I had some vague idea, I couldn't call him.