Amelia Allen woke up to a pounding headache, her body aching, and the unmistakable stench of alcohol lingering in the air. Disoriented, she blinked against the dim morning light filtering through the hotel room's curtains. Her clothes lay scattered like fallen leaves, a chaotic reminder of the night before. Panic settled in as fragmented memories fluttered at the edges of her consciousness, blurred and unreachable.
Something had happened—whether good or bad, she had no idea. But the dull soreness in her limbs and the fading warmth beside her on the bed made one thing clear: she had a one-night stand.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Amelia pushed herself up, wincing as pain rippled through her muscles. She grabbed her clothes hastily, fingers trembling as she slipped them on. The need to escape outweighed her desire to piece together the missing hours. Grabbing her purse, she stepped out into the eerily quiet hallway, making a beeline for the nearest pharmacy to buy ibuprofen. The pounding in her head intensified with every attempt to recall the night before, so she forced herself to let it go.
The only thing she remembered clearly was arriving at the bar with her co-worker after an exhausting, soul-draining day. Beyond that, everything was a hazy, unreachable blur.
Once she reached her apartment, she gulped down the painkillers with water and caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror by the front door. The reflection staring back at her made her stomach twist and tighten—mascara smudged like dark streaks of regret beneath her eyes, lipstick faded and smeared, and her neck marred with deep, possessive bruises.
She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her disheveled, light brown waves. How could she have been so careless? She had always prided herself on control—especially when it came to alcohol. But last night, exhaustion and frustration had drowned her usual restraint, leaving her with nothing but regret and a blank slate where her memories should have been.
Stripping off her dress, she stepped into the shower, letting the lukewarm water cascade over her skin, washing away the evidence of the night before. The heat soothed her tense muscles, but it did nothing to quiet the turmoil in her mind. She wanted to forget—needed to—but a nagging voice whispered at the back of her head, refusing to let her move on so easily.
Who had she been with? Did he mean anything? Did she?
Shaking off the thoughts, she dried herself off and dressed for work in garnet-colored trousers and an oversized pink shirt. Tying her wavy hair into a messy ponytail, she grabbed her bag and stepped out into the world, pretending she wasn't unraveling from the inside out.
Unbeknownst to her, last night was just the beginning. The choice she made in her moment of weakness was about to change her life—forever.
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘈𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴.
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I had an idea for a story while I was trying to sleep. I have a rough idea of where I want to take it, but I'm not sure if I'll continue without some motivation. If you'd like me to write this story, please let me know in the comments or on my profile.
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YOU ARE READING
Memories
Romansa"Promises are the sweetest lies" That's what Amelia believed in. A girl who saw more then she was intended too.
