CHAPTER 97: The Morning After
Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the blinds, painting stripes across my eyelids. I blinked them open, squinting as the unfamiliar room came into focus. A wave of disorientation washed over me, followed by a jolt of panic. Where was I?
My heart hammered against my ribs as the memories of the previous night flooded back. Alexander, my drunken stupor, his worried insistence on bringing me home. This, then, must be his place.
Shame prickled at my skin.
Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I fumbled to check the time. 9:30 am. Great. I was probably late for work already.
As I sat up, a white slip of paper fluttered to the floor. I bent down and picked it up, my breath catching in my throat as I recognized Alexander's handwriting.
"Shower. Kitchen. Clothes on the couch."
On the couch across from the bed, a pile of neatly folded clothes caught my eye.