Memories of Hotel Room

Hotel Love Nest, room no. 201; so many nights, so many memories.

I was never that one man kind of woman and always wanted to reach the pinnacle of success, by any means. From a very early age I had realized one thing, that I was bestowed with great looks and figure. The way my step father used to look at me, those lecherously lewd eyes, many girls would have felt ashamed and sunken. But I always enjoyed that. But I also had the essential grey matter in my head; it was the perfect combination.

I divorced my husband a year after I had joined his company. Well, one look at him and anybody could understand that he was a womanizer. And if the advances came from the other end, he was always eager to jump onto it. The perfect prey for me. The fact that helped his cause was his wife, such a dumb woman. I could never believe that a woman could be that naïve, silly until I saw her; always having faith in his lies. I was never happy with my husband and I had to grab the post of CFO in his company. So, I knew just what I had to do.

The hotel was quite close to our office, about half an hour drive. How could I ever forget the first day we went there! We went for dinner, separately; drank a lot. I called my husband that I would not be returning home to meet office deadline and that was enough for him to understand that what was going on in my mind. He dialled his wife but it was just a mere formality as he had become restless. My backless, which I changed in the hotel washroom made him go crazy. After we were both done with our phone calls, booking the room was just a matter of time. The rest, well, it was just exploring each other the whole night.

Thereafter office pressure become more strenuous and at least once a week, both of us had to spend night at office to meet the deadlines. Slowly but steadily the deadlines became more stringent. That his office was making great profits, his wife could never realize how hard he was working at those nights, to appease me and my needs. I had been in bed with many men before that but for once I was really happy and exhausted.

The room, well, it was our love nest.

As our work pressure increased, the receptionist knew which room we would take and later we just used to call her upfront to keep that room vacant.

I liked the moments spent with him, he was the perfect flirt, just my type. He knew what to say to keep me happy, what to gift me on occasions. I was never attached to my husband but still I was somewhat sad when I signed the papers; I really did not understand why I was unhappy but I was. That night he presented me with a precious stone and how could a woman ever remain gloomy after that. It was again in that room, precisely the bath tub where I was resting on him wrapped in soap bubbles. Those drunken nights, those exploring each other nights, those naked bodies and bare feelings covered under the blanket nights, those wrapped up in each other nights, those late-night discussions about actual office works, the freshening up in the bath tub with honey, warm water, liquid soap, all had become a part of my life. The chill of the AC, the fragrance of the room freshener, the warmth of the curtains, the feel of the bed sheets, I was in love with this room.

And then something unexpected happened, I fall for him.

I knew that we were friends with benefits and I was pretty cool and happy with that. But I never realized when I started growing feelings for him, I was never that emotional. Might be they were the intimate moments that we spent in that room, the cosy and warm showers we took in that tub; they were to be blamed. But then again, it had to be related with this room. I never really understood when I had become so possessive for him.

It was in this very room that he laughed a lot at my foolishness. It was another of those steamy nights when we both were tired and panting for breath. Something ticked inside me and I did the most irrational thing ever in my life, I proposed him. I knew the answer would be no and I was okay with that. It was not really his company, his father-in-law’s. Leaving his wife means leaving his business and that means my mode of comfort would also be gone. How could we both sacrifice that golden egg laying hen! We both were too smart and practical to realize that. But he needed not laugh at my proposal. I felt dejected but another sweltering session, this time instigated by me; followed by a sultry and exhausted bath cured my wretchedness.

But as luck always did with me, it betrayed me again. He left me, forever.

He broke all ties with me, did not receive my calls, did not reply my messages, found means to hide from me. Even when he came to office and when he left, I could never found out again. I was really surprized at times with the fact that how could he skip me with such finesse and precision! He just blocked me out of his life. I had to leave that office and find a job somewhere else. I know this was quite uncharacteristic of me but it did prove that I was human, that there were some feelings and emotions left within me. I was happy to have felt humane again but his absence in my life made me miserable. The hotel room was my only friend.

I used to visit the hotel whenever I missed him in my life. As I visited that hotel room, it brought me all those memories back. I rejoiced in them, soaked in them, breathed in them, basked in them, lived in them. I knew that he was enjoying with his wife, completely oblivious about my depraving mental condition, my bleak future, my intolerable loneliness, my painful hell called life. The bed, the AC, the room-freshener, the curtains, the food, the drink, the furniture all made me feel like that I was still with him. When did I become so dependent on him? How could I ever get near any men, well at least to fulfil my needs? He kind of changed me, a lot. I always kept staring at the bathtub and tried to reconcile that lovely moment when he gifted me the ring. How happy he made me that day and then he acted the same as the other men in my life. He did not betray me but that laugh had ever haunted me, hurt me. He could have at least bid me a proper goodbye. He broke me from inside but I felt that I was to blame for this situation. As our relation had no future and I allowed my rarely seen sensitive self get the better of my ruthless practical self. I bathed in that tub and the soap bubbles made me feel that he had wrapped me in his arms. The tub always reminded the most about him.

Well that was where I drowned him the night I proposed him.

 

les-diaboliques-drowning

Advertisements

7 comments

  1. Wao..amazing!!! What started as just an idea….ended up pretty well in your write-up!!! 👍👍
    The whole story telling part is just amazing…detailed yet precise…feels like watching a movie…
    Loved it❤

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s