My stomach rolls again as negative thoughts roll into my head.
Is he pissed at me for getting drunk? Did I tell his family about our deal and he left me? Fucking shit on a stick.
Did he run back to his ex?
A tsunami-sized wave of nausea hits me and I dart to the bathroom, almost not making it, before I empty my stomach into the porcelain bowl. The bowl that was once filled with crystal clear water is now rainbowed.
Damn, those shots were good the first time around, not so good the second.
Falling back onto my butt, I take deep breaths, hating how my stomach feels like a rotting rainbow.
Once I feel that I am steady enough to get my ass off the floor, I climb to my feet.
I turn on the tap at the sink to brush my teeth and splash some cold water onto my face to help me feel better.
Am I still drunk, or can it be classed as a hangover?
The cold water feels good on my face and on my now raw throat.
Ugh, I am never drinking again.
I am not a big drinker anyway, that is Simone; hell, she could drink enough for the both of us in one night. When we were in college, I used all the tricks in the book to get away with not drinking shots in a drinking game and thankfully, I got away with it ninety-nine percent of the time.
Running my fingers through my mess of hair, I walk across the room, forcing myself not to look at the empty side of the bed and slowly and gently pull the door open to the balcony.
It is very early in the morning and I do not want to wake anyone up. We have the wedding tomorrow, and I have to have my game face on. What Romeo thinks of me is what caused the downward spiraling into a mass of cocktails and shots, but thankfully his aunties drank as much as me. I just hope that they do not remember anything that I said.
I stop dead in my tracks when I remember that I called Romeo a handsome angel.
Fucking hell. I cover my face with both hands, as my embarrassment moves in.
I am such a lush when it comes to drinking.
Voices can be heard below in the pool area, so I step closer to see who is down there.
A familiar male voice hits my ears, and I halt my steps and force my ears to listen. I do not want to have to step closer to look and see Romeo down there with someone else.
Their voices are low, muffled even, or maybe that is the alcohol clouding my senses. Fucking yummy cocktails.
On tiptoes I inch closer, and their voices get louder. It hits me that Romeo is down there with Daniella. My heart beats painfully in my chest as I lean over the balcony.
They are sitting close together, almost touching, and Romeo is looking across the pool, deep in thought from what I can see.
She whispers his name, and a stab of pain hits me right in the solar plexus. As she reaches for his face, cupping his chin and turning his face toward her, they look into each other’s eyes, and tears fill mine.
Are they going to kiss? Fuck, I cannot see that.
Pain ricochets around my chest, and I scramble backwards, my heel hitting the leg of the glass table, and I rock one of the chairs as I steady myself. In a frantic motion, I grip the chair, stopping it from falling over, and freeze in place, not to draw any attention to me up here.
They stop talking, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if they realize it is me up here, while my heart cracks, and any hope of us going forward is shattered.
He told me that he would never get back together with her, but from that scene I would say they looked pretty fucking cozy, and it was an intimate setting. How can he refuse that?
Setting the chair right, I step back, my body leaning against the cool glass of the window to our room. Closing my eyes, I replay everything in my mind that he has said to me since we arrived. Since things started to change between us.
Placing my hand over my heart, I let a tear fall.
My body feels heavy, and my heart feels broken. It was stupid of me to come here betting on myself to not fall in love with a man like Romeo De Massy.
