Author's Note: This story is set in the fictional country of Nordland, a small island nation in the North Sea between the UK, Norway and Denmark.
This story is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places described in this narrative are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Appreciate all comments and feedback.
HF
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"W... what happened?" Astrid mumbled as her blue eyes fluttered open, squinting against the early morning sunlight streaming through the window. She shook her head slowly, trying to shake off the mind-numbing fog of sleep, exhaustion, and way too much alcohol. Each movement seemed to amplify her dizziness, making the room spin until she realized it was her, not the room, that was unsteady. How did I end up like this? she wondered in a daze.
Running her fingers through her tangled blonde hair, Astrid tried to focus on her surroundings. She was in a hotel room -- her hotel room, that much was now clear to her. Clothes, her clothes, were strewn haphazardly around the room and, as she took in the sight, the events of the previous night began flooding back. Dinner, drinks, returning to her room with Richard... the realization hit her hard, filling her with shock and horror.
Recollections of the previous evening broke through her mental haze: the seduction, the sex -- oh God, the sex! The weight of what had happened squeezed her heart like a vice, sucking the air from her lungs. She stumbled naked from the bed and dashed to the bathroom, just making it to the toilet as the bitter tasting bile rose in her throat. Astrid retched violently; once, twice, three times... but the physical act couldn't purge the emotional turmoil that was churning deep inside her. The painful and devastating events of the night replayed in her mind like a high-definition movie on a stark and relentless loop.
Her stomach purged, Astrid struggled unsteadily to her feet and staggered her way towards the shower. Normally, she would have savored a long, relaxing rinse, but now she desperately hoped the water could somehow wash away the humiliation and guilt that filled her. Reaching for the taps, she collapsed on the floor of the shower under the stream of hot water. The sound of pouring water masked Astrid's sobs as she grappled with the harsh reality of what had happened to her the night before. The potential impact of the previous night's events on her family and career was not lost on her and loomed over her like a thundercloud; she'd broken the trust of her husband, Erik, and her employer, the North Sea Oil and Gas Corporation.
Each heaving sob carried the awful weight of regret for what she had done. Her marriage and career, once strong, now teetered on the brink of disaster. How could she have been so foolish, allowing herself to be taken advantage of by Richard in that way? Overlaying her shame, a small voice in the back of her mind subtly and insistently reminded her of the pleasure that Richard had coaxed from her body. Astrid struggled to push those unwanted thoughts away. Oh, God! How can I think like that...?
What would Erik think? What would her colleagues think if they knew? She had broken her marriage vows and slept with a business partner, risking everything she had worked so hard for so long to build in both her personal and professional lives.
With a feeling of disgust, the image of Richard's face loomed in her mind. Astrid could still see his grin of pleasure as he clearly reveled in her responses to his ministrations. She closed her eyes and shook her head in disgust at both him and her, defiantly refusing to define the encounter by any pleasurable terms. He... he raped me... it wasn't pleasurable... it couldn't be pleasurable...
Astrid knew she had to pull herself together and face the reality of her situation. She had to finish her work in New York, but what to do about the night before? The shower could only wash away the physical traces; nothing could erase the mental and emotional scars of that experience.
As she stood under the water, her tears mixed with the warm cascade that flowed down her pale face. Why did this happen to me? Astrid thought bitterly to herself. Her perfect pathway in life -- school, university, work, Erik, Ingrid, NSOG -- had never included any thoughts of such a betrayal. Now all she had was all at risk from one night of weakness.
With shaky resolve, she stepped out of the shower, turning off the taps and reaching for a nearby towel. She realized that she needed to deal with this, even though she had no reference point with which to deal with such a situation. Drying herself slowly, Astrid heard her phone beep with an incoming message. Making her way back to the bedroom, she picked up the device. It was from Erik, written in Nordic:
*Hope you had a good rest last night. Have a great day today!*
The simple message from her loving husband triggered another wave of heaving sobs. She had been unfaithful to him, breaking their bond and vows to each other. She tried to control her emotions, breathing heavily.
Another beep interrupted the silence. It was a message from Richard:
*Thanks for an incredible night last night. See you in the office at 10*
Astrid's blue eyes widened even further in surprise as she read his words. His message implied consent, that what had occurred the previous night was something she had entered into under her own volition and this thought cut through her heart like a hot knife through butter. How dare he think last night was consensual? She collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably at the events that had led her to this point. When she could cry no more, Astrid reluctantly knew she had to pull herself together.
Dressing for the day felt like the hardest challenge Astrid had ever undertaken in her life. She had to present a calm façade to the world. Drawing on her inner strength, she chose her garments and makeup, hoping they would help her maintain some semblance of normalcy.
As Astrid emerged from her hotel room, she wondered what to do. Confront him? Go to the police? Ignore everything? Each option filled her with dread and fear. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and made her way to the foyer. She realized she had to confront Richard.
*****
A little over an hour later, Astrid stood in Richard's office, in front of the man she now hated and despised. The polished surfaces of his desk and his air of gravitas and authority did little to calm the turmoil and anger seething and raging within her. His calm smile greeted her as he gestured towards a chair as she entered the office. "Ah, Astrid, so good to see you," he said with a little smile, his politeness a thin veneer over the tension between them that now filled the room.
"You... you fucking bastard... you raped me," she spat in English, her voice trembling with anger, fear and a host of other emotions that she didn't want to even try and categorize. Richard regarded her calmly, clearly unruffled by her expression or words. "Astrid, I did nothing of the sort. We had consensual sex," he replied, his tone measured. The next few minutes were crucial -- he'd either control her or end up in jail for a very long time.
"No, it fucking wasn't!" Astrid declared, the fury blazing brightly in her blue eyes. His denial had fueled her rage. How could he even think that? she thought angrily to herself. "I'm going to the police right now!"
"And tell them what? That we had sex? Of course we did," Richard countered, with smug confidence in his voice as he leaned back in his high-backed leather chair. "The security cameras, the front desk staff, they all saw us return to your room last night and me leaving early this morning. Are you sure you want your husband to find out? What about North Sea Oil and Gas? What about your daughter?" he asked, each question was a pointed reminder of what was at stake for Astrid.
"Fan deg!" ("Fuck you!") she yelled in Nordic, her eyes blazing vividly with anger. "You'll fucking go to jail for this!"
"Will I?" Richard replied, his gaze steady. "I'm divorced, so I'm free to sleep with whomever I like. I'll clearly take some reputational damage over this but look at it this way... you're a younger, attractive white woman, and I'm an older, black man. We had drinks, you invited me back to your room... It paints a fairly compelling picture of a night of passion, don't you think?"
