Maybe I'm Mesmerized

Chapter 23

Abby's POV:

I wake up with the familiar taste of alcohol in my mouth and a pounding headache. Opening my eyes, I see Paul sitting up next to me reading a thick book with a dark, tatty cover.

He turns to face me with a slightly sad smile. "Morning, love." he greets.

I blink, still trying to wake up, and stretch my arms and legs out with a yawn. "Morning," I reply, "what you reading?"

"Oh, this? It's just some book George gave me about Hinduism. Very interesting." he gives a weary laugh.

He seems tired. Tired of me? Probably. After all the hell that I put him through, why would he still want to be with me?

I feel cold inside. Distant and ice cold. I don't know why. "I'm going to go and take a shower." I tell him, standing up from the bed, still wearing my clothes from the previous day.

Memories from last night are still a bit hazy. All I know for sure is that I drank and Paul obviously found me.

"Wait." Paul says, taking my hand before I can exit the room.

"What?" I sigh, uninterested in the lecture he is about to give me.

"What happened last night?" he asks, almost timidly.

"We went out to dinner and then we came back and slept. Nothing too interesting." I say, avoiding the obvious, not wanting to speak about it. There is silence in the room as I feel his grip around my hand tightening. "I'm going to go shower." I pull away from his grasp and walk forward without looking back.

Once the hot water is brushing my skin, I try to clear my head of negative thoughts, but they don't seem to be disappearing today. Maybe it's the fact that I am about to revisit my childhood memories in Oxford. Maybe it's because my life has changed so much in the past month.

Paul found me last night and probably thinks I am some disgusting, sick, pathetic monster. At least, that's how I see myself right now. I can't quite explain my thirst for alcohol. It's like I am fine, but then suddenly the thought of it consumes me and I want my thoughts to disappear and alcohol is the only way. Suddenly. I will end up trapped in a circle of conflict in my head. The conflict of whether to drink or not, because I know it's bad, but it makes me feel okay for a bit. It's an addiction, isn't it?

I turn off the water, but stay standing in the chilly air. I don't want to move. I don't want to go back out there and face Paul, knowing that he probably thinks that I am some crazy girl who can't take care of herself. A deep breath in and a deep breath out.

I need to go and pack my bag to prepare for the trip to Oxford. I need to focus on that instead of these thoughts. Maybe I should open up to Paul.

But then he would think I am even more crazy.

But I suppose he needs to find out who I really am sooner or later.

Padding my feet onto the cold bathroom tiles, my wet feet lose balance and suddenly I am on the ground after receiving a generous knock on the head from the bathroom cupboard. I groan in pain and swear under my breath.

"Abby?" I hear Paul calling from the bedroom. "You okay in there?"

I brush my hands over the place where I hit my head and I can feel a small bump forming. Ouch.

"Yeah, I'll be right out." I answer back.

I crawl across the floor towards the towels and wrap one around me before getting changed into my clothes. Everything is a lot more difficult to do when you have a hangover and a concussion. Eventually I manage to stand up and trudge back into the bedroom to see Paul looking up at me with concern.

"What happened?" he asks, standing up and rushing over to examine the area on my head that I have been holding with my hand.

"It's no big deal. I'm fine, Paul." I assure him. He isn't convinced though.

"Just tell me." he says, seeming slightly annoyed, probably because of my constant nature of keeping things from him.

"Okay. I slipped while getting out the shower and banged my head on my cupboard, but I feel fine." I explain calmly.

"Oh no, are you sure you are okay? Why didn't you call me? I could have helped." he says, upset.

"Because I was completely naked, Paul!" I joke, trying to brighten the mood.

He smirks. "I wouldn't have minded."

I can't help but giggle and slap him playfully on the arm. "Well I would have minded." I respond.

"Seriously though, are you sure you are fine?" he asks, probably for the billionth time.

"Yes! I am fine, Paul!" I declare.

"You don't even need me to kiss it to make it feel better?" he says, a smile playing at his lips.

"A kiss! Yeah, that will definitely solve all my problems." I utter in a sarcastic tone.

He quickly wraps his arms around me and pulls me into his chest to embrace me. "Don't be afraid to call for me next time, love." he whispers before kissing my cheek.

"Okay, okay." I sigh.

"You gonna get ready to go now?" he questions, as he release our embrace of one another. I give him a nod.

"Okay, good. I'll go order us some breakfast down by the restaurant. Meet me there when you are done."

With that, Paul leaves the room and I finish putting my last clothes into my suitcase. When I am finished, I zip it up and take a step outside the hotel room into the passageway. As I reach a corner in the passage, lost in my thoughts, I knock into someone holding a pile of books.

"I'm sorry. I'm not looking where I am going." I apologize, kneeling down to help pick up the books.

I look up to see the person's face and I freeze instantly.

"Jane." I gulp.