Emily's Ordeal
What would you do if you found out that your wife or husband had cheated on you once? A loss of self-control, a mistake? Would you be able to forgive them? Would you be able to trust them again?
However, what if there was a mitigating factor? What if what you saw wasn't the whole truth and it meant that they had in reality gone through an ordeal? Should they trust you after you didn't believe them?
These are the questions that Emily and Will need to answer.
This story is based in the UK and uses British English. There are a few things unique to Britain like the British pound, a specialist armed police unit and rank of police officers.
Chapter 1
Emily unlocked, opened then closed her front door as quietly as she could wincing slightly as it creaked. The dawn sunlight had long broken the darkness of night. She guiltily climbed the stairs. Pausing worriedly at every creak. She had arrived home much later than she had promised her husband, Will.
"I'll be home by midnight," she told him. Later she sent him a message to tell him they were going to a party, and she'd be back by 3 a.m. When she finally got home it was past 7 a.m. and her hangover had already taken hold.
Emily knew Will was going to be angry with her. She went to the bathroom and removed her makeup. The woman staring back at her in the mirror disgusted her so much that she could barely look at her. Her dark brown hair was a tangled mess. The dress she thought she looked hot in when she left the night before, she now saw how skanky it really was and she couldn't remove it quickly enough. The thong she wore underneath never came home with her. She had no idea where it went.
She knew her pussy had been full of cum. Thank God she was on the pill. Instead of going home, she had slept in a strange house and next to a strange guy. With their nakedness, it was obvious she had sex with him. In her drunken stupor, she thought he was wearing a condom but when she silently got out of his bed, she saw the wrinkled yet unused condom lying on the bed where she had been.
Emily turned on the shower and when the water was warm she climbed in. As the warm water cascaded from the shower and flowed over her body, she began to wash herself. She felt dirty. It wasn't just her pussy; it was all of her. Not satisfied with her cleanliness, she washed herself again and then again. No matter how much she washed she couldn't feel clean, and the first drops of guilty tears fell from her eyes. The tears became uncontrollable sobbing.
Emily felt her legs give way in her grief and she slid down until she was sitting under the shower with her knees to her chest. What had she done? What had she done to her husband? She was scared. Will was going to be so angry with her. He was going to be so hurt. The guy wasn't even good-looking. His body wasn't attractive, and he wasn't even her type. He wasn't close to being a match to Will. She couldn't even remember having sex with him, she was that drunk. If she had been only half as drunk, it would never have happened. God! She wished it never had happened!
Will hadn't wanted her to go out. Months before an old school friend, Dawn, reconnected with her. She knew Will didn't like her. She had a dubious reputation and a tendency to give up her body too easily. Will was worried that Dawn would take Emily somewhere where she would be pressured to do something questionable.
"Don't worry. Babe," Emily had reassured her husband with a kiss. "I'll never let that happen. With you at home, no one is going to even tempt me."
He didn't want her to wear the dress either,
"I need to look hot," she had reasoned. I'm going to be Dawn's wingwoman. I'll do nothing more than some light flirting to help Dawn. I'll never cheat on you, I promise."
But she had done just that. Why did she do it? She felt so ashamed. She was a cheater, a dirty cheater. A slut, a skank. She was trash. The worst of the worst. How would she confess to her husband? She broke her promise. She broke her wedding vows. She had betrayed his trust, and she couldn't undo it. She loved Will so much. She was terrified of losing him.
Her mournful sobbing was interrupted by a noise outside and worried that Will would find her in the shower and suspect something, she climbed out and dried herself. She dried her hair as best she could before she joined the sleeping Will in bed, naked.
Emily wrapped her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He felt warm and safe. That was what she needed right now, to feel warm and safe. Only Will could do that for her and only because it was Will that she was able to fall asleep.
When she woke up, Will was no longer next to her. She assumed it was late. Emily reached over for her phone on the bedside table and couldn't find it. Her brow furrowed. That was odd. She must have left it in her handbag.
Emily rose from her bed. Her hangover was still making her head throb, but she felt better than when she arrived home. Putting on a nightshirt and a dressing gown she fearfully walked down the stairs.
Will was in the kitchen when she found him. He had a face like thunder.
"Morning babe," Emily offered with a weak smile.
"You mean afternoon," he replied looking like her was controlling his anger indicating the time on the oven clock. "What time did you get in?"
"I'm so sorry, babe. I must have passed out. I didn't mean to drink so much. I came home as soon as I woke up," guilt was written all over her face. She tried to kiss her husband, but he turned his cheek. His rejection put a tear in her already fragile heart.
"Do you want a coffee? I can do you some breakfast," he asked her coldly. Even when he was angry, he always showed how much he loved her. Her heart tore a little more.
"Thank you! You are so sweet. I don't deserve you!" Emily told him as enthusiastically as her hangover allowed. "I love you!"
Will gave her a strange look. The "I love you" just slipped out. She didn't expect a response. He never did when he was angry with her.
"Did anything happen last night?" he asked suspiciously as he prepared his wife's breakfast.
Emily looked away unable to look him in the eye, "It looks like it is going to rain," she said changing the subject. She couldn't lie and it didn't feel like the right time to confess.
While Will made her breakfast she searched for her phone. It wasn't in her handbag nor was it in her coat. A cold chill went down her back and she pursed her lips with worry.
"Babe, can you call me? I can't find my phone," she asked her husband. She listened but she couldn't hear that Taylor Swift song she loved so much that she had to have it as her ringtone.
"Did you find it, Stella" Will called from the kitchen. Emily loved hearing him call her that. It meant star in Italian. He was a quarter Italian, and his Italian grandparents called each other that. None of her friends' partners called each other that. She was at first a bit affronted at being called a brand of beer but when he explained what he meant in Italian and it was a term of endearment his grandparents used, she grew to love it. If he was calling her Stella, then his anger towards her was leaving him. She loved him so much. Her heart tore a little more.
After eating a small breakfast, Emily got dressed and said to Will, "I need to go to the shops, girls' stuff, you know." A lie but one she could get away with. She needed to get out of the house. She needed time alone to think.
"Want a lift? You're right, it's going to rain," he offered, his anger towards Emily had completely gone.
"Thanks, babe, I think I'll walk. It'll help clear my hangover. I'll take an umbrella," she as brightly as she could. She gave Will a lingering kiss. He was gorgeous. Another tear in her heart.
