Broken Promises and Ripped Dresses

Morning "Sickness"

Chapter 7. Morning "Sickness"

Do you ever have those mornings where you don't remember anything from the night before? I was having one right then. I woke up in my bed, fully clothed, with a throbbing headache. My head was pounding so hard that I had to press my hand up against it to ebb away some of the pain. Around me were scrunched up sheets and I was tangled up in my duvet like a spider wed. On the floor I could see my clothes spread out in front of my mirror.

What the actual fudge happened last night?

 Slowly I lifted the covers and peeked underneath, hoping to God that I wasn't naked. And thankfully; I wasn't. I had on my blue and green polka-dot pajama shorts, and the matching tank top. But that still left me worried. The last thing I remember from last night was walking in the park with my work clothes on.

The rest of the night was completely out of my memory as if I had just abruptly stopped in the middle of the park  and lied down to sleep. Hopefully there would be a perfectly good explanation for all of this. There was also the miserable headache to worry about. Maybe I had gone for a drink afterwards by myself, had too much, and gotten a cab home? Or maybe I actually did just fall asleep in the park and Ryan or someone passed by  and brought me home?

Aw hell to the no. I quickly realized that if Ryan had taken me home, that would also have to mean that he had changed me into these pajamas. Oh the horror.

After thinking for a few moments, I decided to get out of bed and go to the kitchen. Maybe a cup of Chai tea would clear my mind, and help me remember. That always seems to help. Grudgingly I rolled out of bed and the covers that entangled me, and slipped my feet into my warm fuzzy slippers. I walked across the room to the door, shuffling my feet across the carpet slowly. Before I opened the door in front of me, I took a deep breath. There better not be some unclothed guy sleeping on my couch. I opened the door.

There was no strange naked man. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

 I opened the door the rest of the way, sighing in relief as I walked out. I trudged  toward the cabinets to grab my favorite World's Best Boss coffee cup that Mandy got for me a year ago. This made me smile to myself despite my worrying mind. We're big fans of the office; I have at least five shirts for it.  After grabbing the mug and blowing into it to get out any leftover dust, I turned around to get the tea out of the pantry.

That was when I saw it.

Mandy's dress was hung over the hall closet door; drooping with wine and ripped fabric. The whole front layer was torn off and red stains were splattered over what was left of it. Suddenly, everything started rushing back to me.

Andrew, the Roadrunner Bar, hundreds of drink orders, the taxi ride home, our kiss, trying on the dress, and... destroying it and every hope I have of Mandy putting her trust in me ever again. Every memory from last night was sinking in. I dropped my favorite mug, and it crashed to the floor.

"Holy shit!" I finally managed to scream out. I ran to the dress and grabbed what was left, holding it like it was the last thing I would ever do. "No, please no! Please don't be happening! No, no, no, no, NO!" I held it to my chest, head spinning.

Tears were starting to pour out of my eyes, and they wouldn't stop. I fell to the ground on my knees, and I screamed some more.

"Angela?!" I heard someone call from outside. The door of the balcony was slammed open, and Andrew ran inside. "Angela, are you alright?!" He dashed over to my side, putting a hand on my back.

I pushed his hand away and turned around sharply, "Well, what do you think?!" I yelled at him loudly, and I saw him flinch. "I've demolished my best friend's fucking wedding dress! She's going to kill me! And if she doesn't kill me, she'll just disown me for the rest of my life!"