Page 30 of Unforgivable Ties

“This is where we live?” she said, looking up with wide eyes at the apartment complex she had been to many times.

“Yeah,” I said, helping her out of the car with a firm grip.

I helped her into the elevator and tapped my keycard for the top floor. Stephanie slouched into the side of my body, her eyes closed and her breaths turning into gentle, rhythmic heaves. Despite her disarray and the lingering scent of alcohol tainting her perfume, she was still captivating.

Once we reached the top, I tapped the keycard again to open the doors. I cradled Stephanie’s sleeping body gently in my arms, her head nestled comfortably against my shoulder. I carefully walked her into her room and laid her on the bed before bending down to take off her black heels.

She squirmed uncomfortably in her sleep, still stuck in the skintight dress she wore for the night. It looked amazing on her. When she had first walked into the living room earlier in the night, I had nearly pounced on her.

“God damn it,” I sighed.

I walked to my room and pulled out a cotton t-shirt. Then I shuffled around her drawers until I found a pair of pajama pants. Very carefully, I lowered the straps from her dress and placed the shirt over her head. Then, I slipped on her pants and tugged them up her body.

Finally, I unzipped the dress from the back and pulled it down her clothed lower half, trying not to disturb her slumber. I dressed her without seeing more than what she had accidentally flashed me in the car.

“Goodnight,” I murmured, before turning off the light and shutting her door.

It was always peaceful at seven am. I would drink my coffee while staring out at the expansive New York City skyline while reading the news for the day. The morning light painted the city in soft shades of gold and pink, making everything seem like a still life painting. But I knew better. Underneath the beauty of the sunrise was a city that never truly slept, full of secrets and darkness that were just waiting to unravel at any moment. But in these moments, it was nice to forget.

The silence was broken by loud retching from Stephanie’s room. I rolled my eyes and grabbed the Gatorade I had set on the table. I had foreseen this. The girl drank so much last night that she could have single-handedly kept a distillery in business. With a resigned sigh, I put my mug down and headed towards her room, the ice-cold Gatorade bottle sweating in my hand.

I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed the door open, bracing myself for the mess that might await me. Stephanie’s bathroom door was open, and she was hunched over the toilet, her disheveled hair falling like a curtain around her face.

“Morning, Doc,” I said, handing her the bottle of Gatorade.

She responded with a groan before a fresh wave of nausea hit her, causing her to lean over the toilet once more.

“Did you have a good night?”

“Fuck you,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Enjoying the show?”

I laughed lightly, leaning against the sink. “It is entertaining, yes.”

She took a sip from the Gatorade bottle. Her face twisted in an expression of obvious discomfort as the sweet, electrolyte-loaded liquid hit her tongue.

“I haven’t drank that much since undergrad,” she said, massaging her temples. “I don’t even remember what happened after dinner.”

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that she didn’t remember we almost kissed.

“Hm, well, you wereveryinterested in my sex life,” I said, smirking at her. “You weren’t shy about what you asked.”

“Oh,” she said, her face turning from green to red. “Just...please forget I said anything.”

“I’m not so sure I can do that,” I replied, my smirk growing even wider. “I mean, it’s not every day a brilliant med student like you asks me about my romantic exploits.”

“Fuck you, Vin—hold on, is this your shirt?” Stephanie said, her eyes widening, looking down to between her legs. Her brain was working on overdrive, trying to remember if we had had sex.

“Don’t worry,” I said, explaining how I had changed her clothes without seeing anything.

“Ugh,” she groaned, slumping against the porcelain. “I feel like death.”

“Well, you have work today, and you’re not taking the day off.” I walked out of her room, ignoring the curses spewing in my direction.

She was cute when she was riled up.

Vincenzo

Today was a very important day. I had been out of commission since I had gotten shot, but now I was healed and ready to get back out there. I was sick of only doing boring shit like shipping organs out and meeting business partners over dinner.

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