Unhappily Married by; Rachel N.

Part 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The sweet melody of birds chirping outside her window gently roused her from her slumber, but the throbbing headache that greeted her was a harsh reminder of the previous night's excesses. She opened her eyes slowly, her gaze fluttering around the unfamiliar room. The strange surroundings only added to her growing unease.

As she turned to her side, her heart skipped a beat. A figure lay beside her, shrouded in the dim light. Fear's icy grip tightened around her heart, and she stifled a scream with her hand. But as her eyes adjusted, she recognized Xavier's chiseled features, his chest rising and falling in a slow, peaceful rhythm.

Panic set in as she realized her state of undress. She hastily pulled the duvet up and peeked underneath, her face burning with embarrassment. The scattered clothes on the floor told a tale she'd rather forget. Seizing the sheets, she wrapped them tightly around herself and scrambled to gather her clothes, her heart racing with the knowledge that Xavier could wake up any moment.

The scene unfolding before her was like a cliché from her favorite dramas – a situation she never thought she'd find herself in. With a mix of shock, embarrassment, and trepidation, she made a swift exit, closing the door behind her. The click of the door opening and closing again was followed by the sound of Eugene's voice, her words laced with curiosity, "Hmm, what's going on?" But Nikita was already gone, seeking refuge in her own room, leaving Xavier's door shut behind her.

Nikita's hands were buried deep in her hair, her fingers tangled in a tight grip as she berated herself. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face pale, and her voice hoarse from the night's excesses. She paced back and forth in front of the bed, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet.

"What have I done?" she lamented, her voice rising in a desperate whisper. "Why did I go there? Why did I drink so much? I'm so stupid, so incredibly stupid!" She slammed her fists against her temples, as if trying to knock some sense into herself.

She stopped pacing and stood in front of the bed, her eyes fixed on the rumpled sheets. Memories of the previous night flashed through her mind like a kaleidoscope, fragmented and disjointed. She remembered laughter, music, and the smooth taste of wine. But the details were hazy, and she couldn't recall how she ended up in Xavier's bed.

"But he must not remember, right?" she told herself, trying to sound convincing. "There's no way, I left no trace. Yes, maybe I just came back and walked into his room thinking it was mine. Yes, that's it." She repeated the mantra, trying to reassure herself that she had control over the situation.

With a deep breath, she walked into the bathroom, the bright lights and cold tiles a stark contrast to the warm, dark bedroom. She splashed water on her face, trying to wash away the shame and guilt that clung to her like a shroud.

Daria stepped into Nikita's room, her eyes scanning the space with a curious gaze. The floor was littered with clothes, a trail of discarded garments leading to the bathroom door. She picked up a silky top, her fingers tracing the delicate fabric as she wondered what had transpired the night before.

Just then, Nikita emerged from the bathroom, her hair wrapped in a towel, her face pale and drawn. She let out a startled yelp at the sight of Daria, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Miss, are you just coming in?" Daria asked, her voice laced with concern.

Nikita's eyes darted around the room, her mind racing. "Eh?" she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Daria's gaze narrowed. "I asked if you're just coming in now. Why are your clothes all over the floor?" She gestured to the scattered garments, her eyes fixed on Nikita's face.