One Drunk Night (BWWM)
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- Parts 3
MatureOngoing17m
Last published Thu, May 12, 2022
My head, somehow, has it's own heartbeat, this sun is seering my eyes, and there's a gargantuan engagement ring on my left hand, just the usual morning after. Wait...ENGAGEMENT RING?!?!? I sat up only to be knocked back down by the intense throbbing rattling my brain. I groaned in frustration and turned on my side to let the pain subsided, only to be greeted by honey auburn locks lying on the pillow beside mine. Panic began to immediately set in as I froze all movement in hopes of not alerting the stranger that I had awoken. 'Good God Dylan! You brought a random home?! You knew that last shot of tequila was a bad idea! Everyone knows heartbreak and hard liquor don't mix!' As I continued to chastise myself for my foolish and completely reckless behavior, the stranger beside me began to stir. His tall, fit frame sat up as turned towards me with his beautifully toned and tanned chest. His green eyes fell on mine and a smirk began to creep it's way onto his face as he began to speak.
"Good Morning Mrs. Lockhart" he began in an arrogant tone, "how'd you sleep?"
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Dear Diary: 14/01/2019 Monday I can't believe my luck. After 6 long years of silence, after so much heartache and healing, I saw him today. The one who took my heart, the one I trusted to keep it safe, only for him to crush it beneath his spiked boots. Not literally-he never wore spiked boots-but the pain he caused me back then? It felt like he might as well have. I tried so hard to keep my expression neutral when I saw him, but I could feel it slipping. The surprise, the confusion, the sting of old wounds, all right there on my face. I wonder if my boss noticed. I wonder if he noticed. He looked different, of course. It's been six years, after all, but he seemed so calm, so composed... and I can't deny it-he looked good. Too good. It caught me off guard how attractive he still is, maybe even more so now. That sense of ease he carries... it's the kind of cool confidence that feels magnetic. Damn it, I hope I looked different to him, too. Better, stronger-like a woman who has come into her own. I hope he saw that and thought, "I lost something special." I'm trying to tell myself it doesn't matter, that this chance meeting was just that: chance. But there's this voice inside me, a quiet one at first, now growing louder, whispering, "What are the odds?" What are the chances that, after all these years, after all that we've both been through, we would cross paths again like this? It doesn't mean anything. It can't mean anything. I'm practically married and my fiance is the one I've built a future with. But I won't lie-the thought of him, of what could've been, still echoes in my mind, and it's unsettling how easy those old feelings are to stir.
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