There was no doubt in Angelo's mind that his head hurt and it was all due to the constant banging in his head. His eyes were shut, and he felt warmth around him as though someone was hugging him.
He smiled, although his eyes were shut and he was unable to see anything around him. The bed was comfortable, but something about it felt different. Even the smell of his room felt different, so much so that he reached out his hand to touch his wife, and that side of the bed was empty.
He sat up abruptly from the bed and looked around his surroundings, and surely enough, this was not his room. Just from the looks of the bed, it was too pink, and there were too many pillows, so much so that they took up most of the space on the bed.
Even though he knew that this room was not his own, he had a feeling that he had been here before, not once but on many occasions, but he could not put his finger on it or explain how he knew the interior of the room so well.