Second Love [Completed]

10. WTH happened??!!

Susan's P.O.V.

A dull throbbing pain spread through my head as I stirred in my sleep. My body felt heavy, my limbs sluggish. Something warm and firm was wrapped around me—not my pillow. I shifted slightly, and the unfamiliar weight tightened around my waist.

My breath hitched.

The room was dark, the air thick with silence. Slowly, I forced my eyes open, my vision still blurry from sleep and the remnants of alcohol. As my surroundings came into focus, my heart stuttered in my chest.

A man lay beside me.

Not just any man—the same one from last night.

The stranger from last night.

His face was relaxed, his breathing deep and even. The dim glow from the city lights outside cast faint shadows across his sharp jawline and tousled dark hair. He looked peaceful, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

Panic surged through my veins as memories of last night flickered in and out of my mind like broken puzzle pieces. The bar. The shots. The overwhelming betrayal. Adrian's face flashing across my screen—his lips on another woman's. The ache in my chest as I drank to forget. The guy from the party's steady presence beside me. His voice, calm and grounding.

But then... what happened after that?

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My fingers trembled as I lifted the edge of the blanket, my stomach twisting into knots. I wasn't wearing my dress from last night. Instead, I was clad in an oversized T-shirt and a pair of unfamiliar shorts.

Oh God. Did he—did we—?

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will the panic away. No. Think, Susan. Think.

I racked my brain for any sign, any memory, any sensation that might confirm my worst fears. But nothing came. My body didn't ache in any unusual way. There were no telltale signs of intimacy. Just a lingering headache and the bitter taste of regret on my tongue.

As soon as he shifted beside me, and I stiffened. His arm loosened slightly, giving me just enough room to slip away. Carefully, I pulled myself out of bed, ignoring the way my pulse pounded in my ears. My dress was draped over the couch, neatly folded. That was a good sign, right? It meant that whatever happened last night, it wasn't reckless or forceful.

Still, a wave of shame rolled over me. I needed to get out of here.

I tiptoed across the room, grabbing my dress and slipping into the ensuite bathroom. The reflection staring back at me in the mirror was a mess—makeup smudged, hair disheveled, eyes red and swollen from crying. I looked exactly how I felt—broken.

With a deep breath, I changed back into my dress, trying to shake off the overwhelming sense of unease. The night had spiraled out of control, and now I was left picking up the pieces.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I hesitated. The man who helped me—I still didn't know his name, was still asleep, his breathing steady. He didn't look like a man who had taken advantage of a drunken woman. If anything, he had taken care of me. The realization sent a mix of relief and confusion through me.

I should leave. Now. Before he woke up.

I reached for my heels, holding them in one hand as I quietly opened the door, careful not to make a sound. The moment I stepped into the hallway, I exhaled sharply, my body sagging against the wall.

I needed to get back to my own room. To Lisa. To a place where I could process everything that had just happened.

Back in the hotel suite...