The rigid perfection she forced herself to maintain every single day was completely gone, leaving her feeling loose, reckless, and incredibly vulnerable. She closed her eyes, letting the heavy beat of the music drown out the endless, exhausting loop of her own thoughts.
But eventually, the physical exertion caught up with the alcohol. Her head began to spin, and the crowded dance floor suddenly felt too warm.
She excused herself, leaving her friends laughing over another round, and retreated to a curved leather booth in the back corner of the lounge. She sat down heavily, swirling the remnants of her third margarita in its salted glass.
Audrey dug into her small clutch and pulled out her phone. The screen blurred slightly at the edges. Without thinking, driven entirely by the raw, unedited ache in her chest, she found Simon's contact and pressed call.
He picked up on the second ring.
"Rey?" Simon's voice was sharp, laced with immediate concern. He could hear the loud, thumping music in the background. "Where are you? Is everything okay?"
"I'm at the Velvet Lounge," Audrey mumbled, leaning her head back against the leather booth. She closed her eyes, the room spinning a slow, lazy circle around her. "I had a lot of tequila."
Simon let out a sharp exhale. "Are you with Miranda?"
"She's dancing," Audrey said, her words slipping together softly. "You told me you just wanted an escape. You just wanted to feel something different. I get it now. I wanted to escape tonight, too."
"Audrey, listen to me," Simon said, his voice dropping into that deep, calming register he used whenever she was overwhelmed. "Don't drink anymore. I am coming to get you right now. Tell Miranda I'm on my way."
The line went dead. Audrey dropped her phone onto the table, rubbing her temples.
A moment later, Miranda slid into the booth beside her, pushing a tall glass of ice water across the table. Her sister tookone look at Audrey's flushed face and the phone resting on the table.
"Hey," Miranda said softly, her protective instincts immediately flaring. "Who were you just talking to?"
Audrey picked up the water, taking a slow sip. "Simon."
Miranda froze, her eyes widening in surprise. "Audrey, why did you call him? I thought the whole point of tonight was to forget he exists for a few hours."
"I know," Audrey whispered, staring down at her lap. "But I'm so tired, Miri. I'm just so incredibly tired of being angry. I drank too much, and my walls are completely down, and I just... I called him."
Miranda let out a long, heavy sigh, reaching over to push a stray lock of dark hair behind Audrey's ear. "What did he say?"
"He told me to stop drinking," Audrey mumbled, a small, humorless smile touching her lips. "He said he's on his way to get me."
Miranda studied her sister’s face, searching for any sign of panic or regret. Finding none, she nodded slowly. "Okay. If you want him to take you home, I won't stop him. But I'm waiting right here with you until he walks through that door."
Twenty minutes later, Simon pushed his way through the crowded bar. He spotted them in the back booth. He wore a dark jacket over a simple t-shirt, his hair slightly messy from the wind. He looked at Miranda, who offered a small, resigning shrug, gesturing to Audrey, who was resting her head on the table.
"I've got her," Simon told Miranda quietly.
Miranda grabbed her purse and stood up. "Take her straight home, Simon. Make her drink water."
Simon slid his arm gently around Audrey's waist, helping her stand. She swayed, entirely off-balance, and he pulled her flush against his side, letting her lean her weight on his chest.
The drive back to the house was quiet. Audrey stared out the passenger window, watching the streetlights blur into long streaks of gold. She felt a strange, profound sense of safety wrapped up in the familiar scent of his car and the gentle heat radiating from the driver's seat.
When he parked in the driveway, he walked around to her door, unbuckled her seatbelt, and guided her up the front steps. He unlocked the door and walked her up the stairs to her bedroom.
"Sit," Simon murmured, easing her down onto the edge of the mattress.
He knelt on the floor in front of her, carefully unbuckling her heels and slipping them off her feet. He went to her dresser, pulling out a large, worn-out gray t-shirt that used to belong to him. He handed it to her, turning his back to give her privacy while she fumbled with the zipper of her black dress.
When the dress hit the floor, Audrey pulled the soft cotton shirt over her head. "Okay."
Simon turned back around. He pulled the heavy duvet back and helped her slide into the sheets, tucking the covers up to her shoulders. He brushed a stray lock of dark hair away from her flushed face, his touch lingering against her cheek with a devastating, heartbreaking tenderness.
He started to pull his hand away, ready to leave the room, but Audrey reached out, her fingers wrapping loosely around his wrist.
