30 Days

by Grace Owens

  My stomach rolled as I tried to get comfortable again and I had to take a deep breath, willing my stomach to calm down. The bed suddenly felt too warm and too comfortable. Something felt off.

  “Oh, God,” I groaned, pleading with my body to calm down. I had no idea where the bathroom was and I didn’t trust myself to open my eyes to look for it either. I tried swallowing, but my mouth felt like the Sahara desert and only made things worse.

  ”Morning,” a gruff voice said.

  Huh?

  Where the hell was I? I was so sure that I had been at the same hotel we had arrived at yesterday. We - Allie, Hanna and myself - had gone out for drinks to celebrate Hanna’s last night as a ‘single lady’ before she was getting married next week.

  I tried to remember if they’d set me up with someone since that was their usual memo. I never went along with it, no matter how many times they threw their happy relationships in my face. So why would there be a man in my bed?

  Was it even my bed?

  In order to find out, I knew I had to open my eyes. It was harder than I had anticipated and they felt as if they had been caked together with a 50-pound weight added to them. The room was too bright to keep them open and I tried to burrow further into the blankets, hoping it would help with the nausea as well as the headache. It did no such thing.

  “Bathroom?” I managed to squeak out.

  “Behind you,” the stranger answered, most likely knowing exactly was about to happen.

  I quickly flung the heavy blankets off and rolled over, hoping I would make it in time before I threw up all over the bed and whoever was in it. I was naked and sore, but I had no time to do anything about it. My stomach was revolting and it was happening now.

  I made it to the bathroom just in time before I started heaving over the toilet. After I was certain that I had nothing else to offer the porcelain bowl, I stood up slowly and looked at myself over in the mirror. For feeling so yucky, I sure looked good – rested and happy – and it bothered me almost more than the situation I found myself in. Mentally shaking my head for feeling this way, I looked around and found a sealed toothbrush on the sink. I was in a daze as I brushed my teeth, trying to remember what had happened the night before without much success.

  I vaguely remembered the shower from my dream, which looked exactly like the one in the bathroom, so I was pretty sure that what had happened hadn’t been a dream. Judging by the soreness between my legs, the things that had happened in said shower also hadn’t been a dream.

  Shit.

  Racking my brain for answers, a faint memory of meeting a guy at the bar appeared. I remembered clear, blue eyes and auburn hair. I just hoped he was the same guy from both my shower dream and the guy currently occupying my bed because if that wasn’t the case, I was a bigger slut than I originally thought.

  Had I seriously left my friends to go have sex with some stranger? Had they been so desperate to set me up with someone that they had let me leave with a stranger? It hadn’t even been 24 hours since they tried to set me up with Hanna’s future cousin-in-law who would be coming home for the wedding.

  “Crap, crap, crap,” I muttered to myself. The only way to find out was to find a way out of here and back to my own hotel room. The only way to do that, was to face the stranger again.

  I looked at the closed bathroom door, first in embarrassment and then relief when I saw a robe hanging on it. At least I didn’t need to face him buck naked; not that he hadn’t seen me in all my glory when I had stumbled out of bed earlier… or last night.

  Shit.

  With a pounding head, but at least not naked, I opened the door and peeked into the bedroom. The guy was sitting against the headboard, his naked glory on full display. And it was a glory indeed – defined, muscled and inked chest, auburn hair and clear, blue eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief; it was the same guy I had met at the bar last night. However… it wasn’t.

  Something was oddly familiar about him. And it wasn’t something good familiar which made me run back into the bathroom to throw my guts out once again.

  Flashbacks from high school filtered through my brain - cruel pranks, hurtful words, rumors, loneliness - and on and on it went. I’d hated high school, still did, and I tried my hardest to never think about it. Ever.

  So why was I thinking about all of this now, dry-heaving over a fancy toilet? It had been almost eight years since I graduated from high school.

  Well, because the guy in the bed looked like an older version of the person who had been in the center of it all.

  “Are you okay?” he asked from the other room.

  Crap, I had left the door open.

  “Yeah,” I groaned even though I wasn’t, thankful that he had at least stayed out of the bathroom.

  I knew for a fact that no matter how drunk I had been last night, there was no way that I would have left my friends to go anywhere, let alone have sex, with a guy named Cailean. So what was stranger-guy’s name?

  Trent? Tristan? Travis? Tyler!

  His name was Tyler. There, I had nothing to worry about. I had left the bar with a guy named Tyler and the guy in the bed was that same guy, so there was no way that it was Cailean.

  With newfound confidence, I cleaned up again and walked back out to the bedroom. However, once again, his uncanny resemblance to Cailean made me do a double take.

  “What’s your name again?” I asked, pulling the robe tighter across my chest.

  His blue eyes looked straight into mine and I knew before he opened his mouth that I wasn’t going to like his answer. His name wasn’t Tyler and he was no stranger.

  “Cailean,” he answered with a slight smirk. He ran a hand through his bed hair, causing his muscles to flex in a delicious way. “But I think you already knew that.”

  Shit.

  I hated that the years had been good to him. I hated that I was attracted to him. I hated how his eyes looked at me with pity. I hated my stupid, drunk ass for not recognizing him last night. I hated him.

  I hated.

  I hated.

  I hated.

  “Right,” I mumbled with tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I refused to let them spill in front of him. I wished I was strong enough to say that I would never cry over him ever again, but I knew I would as soon as I was back in my own room.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, scooting to the edge of the bed. We both knew he wasn’t sorry so I had no idea why he even bothered wasting his breath on the two words.

  Again, my wandering eyes just couldn’t help themselves but to admire the way his body moved. I had always thought the way the ‘V’ affected people in the somewhat smutty romance novels I read were a thing from a fantasy conjured up by horny women. By the way my mouth watered and my sex clenched at the sight of Cailean’s said ‘V’, every word had been true.

  Shit.

  “What exactly are you sorry for, Cailean?” His name tasted sour in my mouth as I scanned the room for my clothes. Any clothing that covered me better than a robe would work at this point. I needed to leave and I wasn’t doing the walk of shame in a hotel robe. I still had a little bit of dignity left. “For bullying me for seven years straight, or for obviously taking advantage of my drunken state last night?”

  “Taking advantage of you?” he asked, amused, with just a tiny hint of his British accent. “You’re the one that basically tore my pants off!”

  I spotted my panties at the foot of the bed. I moved to go put them on, making sure to do a wide circle around Cailean since I obviously couldn’t be trusted around him. Maneuvering underneath the robe, I finally managed to put them on without flashing him anything, but he still watched me with hunger in his eyes.

  “So you decided to lie about your name so you could get me in bed?” I asked evenly, avoiding the fact that he had basically blamed it on me. I couldn’t remember how we had gotten in the shower in the first place, so I couldn’t argue about it. “Was I drugged or something?”

  His eyes narrowed with
anger and for a second, he looked exactly like the Cailean I knew. However, I refused to recoil in fear and even though I regretted accusing him of something so horrible, how else would I have willingly ended up in a bed with him?

  “No,” he answered in anger, standing up. He was still naked. Of course my eyes were once again greedy and decided to look in places they shouldn’t. Just like his chest, the rest of his body was toned and simply… amazing. Screw him for looking so good! And no wonder I was sore – he was huge down there. He pulled on his boxers, efficiently hiding it – good – and smirked when he saw that I was looking. “I just wanted to talk to you. It’s been a while, but I knew you wouldn’t want to talk to me so when you didn’t recognize me, I kind of just went with it. And trust me, babe, I don’t need to drug women in order to fuck them.”

  “Oh, so what; you think that bullying me for seven years in school are making us, what exactly? Friends? Acquaintances? BFF’s?” I decided to brush off his comment about other women and looked around the room again to see if my dress and bra were anywhere close. “I haven’t even seen you in what… ten years? Guess what? I still don’t feel the need to catch up!”

  “First of all, it hasn’t even been eight years,” he corrected even though I knew damn well how long it had been. “Second, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy last night because we both know you wanted it. And third, we’re not friends, we’re not fucking acquaintances as you so nicely put it, and we’re not BFF’s. We’re more than that, sweetheart.”

  He grabbed something off the floor – my dress – and smiled at me. It wasn’t the panty-dropping smile I remembered from last night and it wasn’t a way of appearing to be nice about something. It was a smile I remembered well. It was a smile that said ‘gottcha.’

  I snagged the dress out of his hand, trying to ignore how my lungs constricted and how my stomach suddenly felt as if it was filled with lead.

  “You’re right. We’re nothing,” I seethed. “Consider everything that happened last night a giant mistake.”

  He had the audacity to look hurt before he said, “You couldn’t be more wrong, Gert. Especially considering that you’re my wife.”

  And there it was – the reason why I suddenly felt as if I couldn’t breathe. Seven years of bullying and eight years of trying to get over it was all so that I could end up married to the guy.

  No.

  “I don’t believe you,” I whispered defiantly, even though a faint memory of his promises about not being done with me were swirling around in my head. Surely, he hadn’t meant it this way.

  His eyes flickered to my hand and for the first time since I had woken up, I noticed it – two beautiful rings on my left hand finger. I stood there gaping at them for a very long time, trying to take that information in, but I simply couldn’t wrap my head around it. I was married. I was married to a man named Cailean Baker. I was married to someone I despised with every fiber of my being. I had gotten married in Vegas, where drunk people did things they regretted after their weekend. I was sure my mistake hadn’t been the only one and somehow, it had to be undone like everyone else’s.

  “You… nasty… disgusting… asshole!” I said through clenched teeth when I had finally recovered enough to speak.

  I went back to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. What the hell had I done to deserve this? I slid down to the floor as the sobbing started. It only made my headache so much worse, but I couldn’t stop the tears from coming. He must have heard me, but he left me alone. How had I once again ended up being the crying girl in the bathroom?

  Suck it up, Gertie. You’re an adult now.

  I tried to take deep breaths, slowly but surely regaining control of my body and focused on getting dressed, deciding to just skip out on finding my bra. The tight and short dress that had looked so nice last night had lost its appeal, but I had nothing else to wear and I knew I needed to get out of here sooner rather than later.

  I splashed some cold water on my face, but nothing I did could hide the puffy and red shot eyes. Crying and a hangover didn’t really go well together, but no matter how tempting the shower looked, the memories were too much; especially with Cailean standing on the other side of the door.

  He had been sitting on the bed and shot up to a standing position as soon as he saw me. He had, thankfully, put a t-shirt and a pair of jeans on. He still looked good, the stupid asshole, but after hitting a new low, there was absolutely nothing about him that appealed to me anymore.

  Shit.

  That was a lie if I had ever seen one, but it sounded good in my head and it was sort of true. I had gotten over the bullying somewhat and I was sure that if I hadn’t seen him again, it would eventually have faded away. But what had happened last night, if there was any truth to it – him marrying me while I was obviously not in a position to make any life-altering decisions – had taken things to a new level. How would I ever forget it? There was still a part of me that was wishing that it was just another one of his lies, but for now, getting out of his sight would have to do. I could deal with the rest later.

  Or never.

  “What are you doing?” Cailean asked as I was putting on the heels I had worn last night. How I had lasted all night in them was a mystery to me because now, two minutes in, I was ready to just toss them away.

  “I’m leaving,” I answered in a raspy voice. He had no right to any answers, or to ask questions, but unlike him, I wasn’t an asshole.

  “Don’t go… please,” he pleaded, standing to block the door. Pleading was so unlike the Cailean I had known, but I wasn’t buying it.

  Purse and phone in hand, I walked up to him, expecting him to move, but he didn’t. He stood as strong as ever, his eyes daring me to do something. In the past, this is when I would bow my head and wait for him to move. I had pushed him once and I had ended up regretting it.

  Don’t do this to yourself, Gertie. You’re an adult and he’s not going to hurt you.

  “Move, or I will kick you where it hurts,” I threatened, looking at his groin, silently telling him exactly where I would kick him.

  Damn, that felt good!

  With a newfound confidence, I squared my shoulders and looked straight at him, challenging him. What I didn’t expect was for him to challenge me back. I certainly didn’t expect the words, “Fuck, you’re hot,” come out of his mouth before he cradled my face and crushed his lips against mine. I absolutely didn’t expect my body’s response when I released a moan and moved my lips along his. “You’re mine, Gertie. You’ve always been mine and you always will be mine.”

  His hands moved to my hips to bring me closer, but before I could wrap my arms around him to help, I stopped myself. What the hell was I doing?

  “I need to leave.” I couldn’t let my body influence me anymore; look where it had gotten me.

  “Gertie,” Cailean pleaded again, trying to move in for another kiss, but I angled my face so that his lips ended up on my jaw instead and, damn, if that didn’t feel good too. “Just… please stay.”

  With all the pleading he was doing, it wouldn’t surprise me if he ended up on his knees soon. What my teenage self wouldn’t have done to see that! Maybe then I would have considered staying.

  No. No, I wouldn’t.

  “I’m leaving, Cailean,” I stated firmly, reaching around him for the door. Before leaving, I turned around and told him what I should have said all those years ago. “I’m not yours, Cailean. I never was and I never will be.”

  Closing the door behind me, I was surprised when he didn’t follow me as I started walking toward the elevator. The purple pattern of the carpet was making my head dizzy and I quickly fished my phone from my purse before I fell over. I didn’t just need to do the walk of shame, I also needed to call Hanna and ask what hotel we were staying at. I was sure she and Allie both would have something to say about my night and disappearing act.

  However, looking through my messages, it appeared as if I had been assuring them of my wellbeing all th
roughout the night. There were a few selfies as well and even though I had taken several and sent to Hanna, Cailean’s face always seemed to be just out of reach. Hell, there were even a few of them where my face wasn’t even in it.

  My biggest problem with the pictures, however, was that I looked happy. I had been content in the last few years, especially after landing an internship at a respected business, but I had never looked this happy before.

  Damn him for making me happy.

  TO BE CONTINUED IN ‘ALWAYS YOURS’

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Grace Owens is a first-time novelist and an avid reader. She has been enjoying writing and reading since the height of FanFiction. When she’s not working her boring 9-5 job, she enjoys consuming and decorating cookies.

  She decided to chase the American dream and leave Europe a handful of years ago. She is currently living in rainy Washington with her husband and two kids.

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