"Tears Dry on their Own" - Destiny

I slowly awake from a deep slumber by the sun's glare into the room. As I gather my thoughts and come to my senses, I gradually feel pain throughout my body. My eyes adjust to my surroundings and I realize that I am in Château du Roi, the hotel that Marcus booked for our rendezvous. I sit up and my head starts to throb excessively as if someone hit me with a bag of bricks. I get up from the bed and notice bruises between my thighs. I panic. I rush to the phone and dial Marcus' number. 

"The number you have dialed has been disconnected," rings in my ear.

I hold the phone in my hand and my mind wonders. The beeping sound brings me back to reality and I push gently on the switch hook and hang up the phone. I pick up the phone again and I dial 0.

"Opérateur," the guest service associate announces herself in French. "Comment puis-je diriger votre appel?"

"This is room 613," I answer in English. "Can you call the police for me?" 

She responds in English. "What is your name, mademoiselle? Are you in danger? What is wrong?"

"I would like to file a police report in regards to a possible crime that took place last night."

"Yes, mademoiselle. I'll call them right away. I'm notifying the manager so she can check on you while the police make their way here."

"No, no. Please just have her come with the police once they arrive."

"Are you sure, mademoiselle?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"OK, I'm calling the authorities now. Madame François, the hotel's manager, will accompany them to your room once they arrive."

After I hang up, I go the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. My hair is unruly, and my eyes are red and stained with yesterday's mascara. I take a closer look and rub on my neck. Welts have begun to form on my neck from where I was scratched. Usually, when I look in the mirror, I see a beautiful and cheerful woman, but today I see the broken soul of someone who was violated.

                                                                       *****

Marcus and I woke up after a night of lovemaking. Our bodies were intertwined on his California king sized bed. My caramel skin was enwrapped in his deep mocha skin. He kissed me gently on my forehead and asked me to make him breakfast. Fueled by love, I quickly put on his light blue soft brushed cotton pajama top and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. As we were consuming our meal, he told me that we were going shopping later on that day for a special trip to celebrate our one-year anniversary.

"Where are we going?" I asked eagerly.

"We are going to a place where lights shine brightly and romance blossoms," he answered smoothly in his sensual baritone voice.

"Oh my God babe! Are we going to Paris?"

"Yes, my love. I want us to be in Paris making love as the clock strikes midnight on the day of our one year anniversary."

I leaped into his arms and kissed him. Time seemed to stand still as our lips passionately connected. After our moment of pleasure, we took a shower together, got dressed, and went shopping at every high-end store imaginable.

A luxury car picked us up from his penthouse the next day during the small hours of the morning and took us to the airport. "Babe, while we are in Paris, I need to do a few things for the business. It won't take long to tie up some loose ends, but I will make sure that after I'm done, my time is dedicated to you."

I smiled and nodded. I knew that the business that he was referencing was not connected to his role at The Maketa Group. Marcus had a hustler’s spirit. Even though he was the Executive Director of Public Relations and Marketing at one of the largest advertising firms in the world, he ran his own business. His business gave him the opportunity to live lavishly, far beyond what he could afford on his salary from The Maketa Group.

We arrived at the airport with just enough time to check our bags, go through security, and board first class on the plane. When we arrived in Paris, it was nighttime. We headed straight for the hotel. When we got in front of the hotel, I saw the name, Château du Roi, written in cursive with bright lights. Château du Roi was one of the top hotels in Paris. The hotel looked more like a castle, and in it, I felt like a queen. 

We rode up the elevator and stopped in front of the presidential suite on the penthouse floor. Marcus opened the door for me and let me into the room. The room was lit only by candlelight. There were rose petals on the floor that led to the table by the balcony that was set for two.  On the table, there were two sterling silver trays and a matching champagne bucket that housed ice and a bottle of Dom Pérignon. I walked over to the table, and I lifted one of the lids off the tray. On the plate, was sliced steak with bordelaise sauce and a lobster paired with creamy garlic mashed potatoes and basil butter green beans.  We dined and drank. Thirty minutes later, Marcus received a call.

"Babe, I have to take this. It's my business partner."

"Don't take too long; I want to make sure I get dessert tonight," I said seductively. 

He smiled at me with those beautiful white teeth and gave me a kiss. As he walked away, he spoke in a hushed, irritated tone. Several minutes had passed before he returned to the table. He looked vexed.

"Babe, I'll be right back. I have to take care of something, but I'll return shortly."

Knowing that his aggravation had to do with his business, I responded in a calm manner, "I'll see you when I return, my love." I didn’t want him to sense my frustration for leaving hours before our anniversary.

After he had left, I sat on the gray loveseat in the suite. Breaking his promise, I was alone as the clock struck midnight on our anniversary.

As I awaited his return, I took a shower and slipped my honeyed 5'6" frame into the ivory colored silk robe that Marcus purchased during our shopping spree. My champagne flute filled multiple times with Dom Pérignon as the hours passed. With each fill of the flute, I entered into a deeper state of intoxication. I heard a loud knock on the door after waiting four hours for Marcus. Unable to make sense of why he would knock on the door instead of using his key to enter the suite, I ran to the door and opened it as I said, "Baby, you're back.”

The man at the door wasn't Marcus. The person who stood in front of me was someone who I had never met.  He was dressed in a fitted navy suit with an Italian blue and purple patterned tie and wore black oxford shoes. As my eyes fixated on his attractive and athletic physique, he pushed passed me in a rush nearly knocking me to the floor.

"Where is Marcus?" he demanded.

"I... I don't know... where he is," I replied nearly slurring my words.

"I'm not leaving until that bastard gets here. I want my money now!"

At this moment, I felt unsafe. The stranger in my room was nearly a foot taller than me and was filled with rage. In my drunken state, I knew I couldn't defend myself from him.

"I think... you should leave," I said in a voice just above a whisper.

He turned around and walked over to the door. Instead of leaving, to my surprise, he locked it. He turned back around and stated, "I'm not going anywhere."

I ran to the bedroom and reached for the phone. Before I could pick it up, he snatched the phone from hand and slapped me. I fell on the bed and fear engulfed me.

"Since that motherfucker stole from me, I'm going to take from him," he said as he towered over me.

He hastily unbuckled his belt buckle and dress pants exposing himself. He ripped off my loosely tied robe and put his weight on me. I tried desperately to get him off me but to no success. I struggled with him for what seemed like an eternity, gaining scratches and bruises from the fight. Suddenly, I felt him inside of me and began to sob. The mixture of intoxication, fear, and violation cause my body to shut down. The last thing I remembered before I blacked out was my sobs growing softer and my eyes getting heavy as my body and soul were defiled and became deluged with agony.