She took pity on my evident misery and kept her voice low.
“How do you want to cash out?”
“Cash, please,” I said, mentally ticking one thing off my list.
Cash.
Then coffee.
Food.
Phone.
Lawyer.
“There’s a great café right down there,” the cashier told me after she finished cashing me out. She nodded behind me.
“Bless you,” I said, getting a knowing smile from her.
Each step felt like it sapped more energy as the chimes from various slot machines made my headache ramp up again, the sounds like icepicks to the brain as I passed.
Despite there being no windows in the casino, everything felt too bright, making my eyes narrow.
As I passed through the bar in the lobby, my stomach rolled at the scent of liquor flowing so early in the morning.
I was never drinking again.
My gaze slid to the side, looking at the tables.
And for just a second, there was a flash. A memory from the night before, all blurry around the edges, but there.
Standing at the blackjack table with Harrison’s body right behind mine, his hand draped possessively around my waist, his face pressed to the side of mine.
“I suck at blackjack,” I admitted, voice bright, cheerful, but not slurring, not drunk. Maybe, at that point, just feeling good.
It wasn’t a lie.
I had absolutely no luck at a blackjack table. I’d lost many thousands trying to get better. To no avail. I didn’t even try anymore.
Except, it seemed, the night before.
The memory tightened, sharpened into focus. Cards being dealt, decisions being made.
Then, the dealer announcing, “Twenty-one.”
I’d… won.
“You must be good luck,” I told Harrison, turning my head and accepting a quick, sweet kiss from him.
“Ugh,” I grumbled, forcing myself to keep walking through.
Some part of me wanted to bury my head in the sand, let the whole night before fall away to oblivion.
The other part knew that remembering might help put the whole thing in context. Or, at the very least, reassure me that the wedding was the only mistake I’d made.
I made my way into the café, mentally grumbling at the line, but finally, finally getting a large cup and moving to a table where I all but fell into the seat.
The coffee was hot—blessedly so—burning just enough on the way down to pull me back into my body. The too-sweet sugar and caramel exploded across my taste buds, a little moment of joy in a rough morning.
