It’s then I hear the soft snores coming from underneath the window and I let out a sigh of relief.
“Why are you still here? What time is it?”God,my head is amess.
“It’s three in the morning. And I’m here to make sure you’re okay.”
I swallow, heavy, as a mix of feelings fight for my attention.
Gratefulness. Humiliation. Relief. Most of all,confusion.
Not much makes sense to me right now, but having David here by my side makes me feel safe. Maybe it’s the unwavering confidence he always projects, but a sense of calm settles over my frayed nerves. He doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere soon, both surprising and placating me, so I settle into my pillow and tilt my head to face him.
“Distract me,” I finally whisper, my eyes finding his in the moonlit room. “Please.”
I must look like a wreck. I vow in this moment to never drink again. I know I said that last week, but this time I really mean it.
David doesn’t answer me for so long I start to think he didn’t hear me. He runs a hand across his jaw before finally speaking, his next words soft yet firm.
“I only went to the club tonight because I heard you say you were going to be there.”
His confession startles me. Well, no one can say he does anything half-assed. Mission accomplished, I’m distracted.
“Why?” I croak out, suddenly very aware of his hand that still holds mine. His thumb draws slow circles across my palm, and I can hardly focus on anything else. It’s like an anchor holding me down while my head tries to spin away.
“Wait.” A vague memory flashes through my mind and I try to grasp onto it. “You were with someone tonight.”
I try to draw my hand from his but he clamps down firmer, not letting me budge an inch.
“No, I wasn’t.”
“But I saw-”
“She wasn’t with me. I had just met her. I was at a bachelor party and we had only arrived at the club five minutes prior to me seeing you.”
“So was she….like an escort?”
I don’t know if it’s the conversation or the drugs, but my heart rate sky rockets, and the next question tumbles out before I can stop it.
“Why do you use escorts? A guy like you could find a girlfriend with the snap of your fingers. Are you afraid of commitment or something?”
I swallow past the dryness in my throat, wishing I could swallow those words back down instead. The lingering effects of drugs and alcohol, combined with the intimacy of the dark hospital room, have obviously made me way too comfortable asking invasive questions.
David hesitates again before answering me, but I onlyexpect him to evade my questions like he did that night at the hotel.
Instead, his next words, spoken so softly I barely hear them, shock the hell out of me.
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I’ve had my heart broken, and that’s why I don’t do commitment?”
“Wait. Someone actually brokeyourheart?” I ask, aghast. “She must have been something really special.” I hate to even think. I bet she looked like Adriana fucking Lima.
“She was,” he says quietly, and I could swear his voice catches at the end. Out of nowhere, my chest tightens.
Useless. Dumb. Nothing.
I could never capture the heart of a handsome, accomplished man like David. But why should I even want to? Prior to tonight, the guy has been a complete asshole to me. Why should I feel jealous over him being in love?
Regardless, the ferocity of the feeling knocks me, not that I can’t control it.
I could never be enough for a man like David, maybe that’s what it is. And, as if I need to confirm it, I lean over the edge of the bed and puke straight into his lap.
