Page 92 of The Girl I Once Loved

The night air is cool against my flushed cheeks as I step out onto the sidewalk, my steps unsteady as I make my way through the darkened streets.

As we walk, I can’t help but ramble on, the alcohol loosening my tongue and inhibitions.

"You know," I start, my words coming out in a jumble, "I really did love you. Probably since the very moment we met."

There is a voice inside my head telling me I need to shut up, but I’m far too drunk to listen to any sense at the moment.

Noah chuckles again, his laughter a soothing balm to my wounded soul. "I know," he says. "And I've been in love with you just as long."

I blink up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "Really?"

He smiles down at me, his eyes warm and full of affection. "Really."

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, and I can’t help the tears that spill over. "I've missed you so much," I whisper.

Noah's grip on me tightens, and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. "I've missed you too, Sky. More than you could ever know."

I stop suddenly in the middle of the sidewalk, my stomach churning, bile rising up.

“Oh shit,” I groan as I lean over and throw up all over the concrete, narrowly missing Noah’s shoes.

I’m a mess when I get done retching up whiskey, tears and snot on my face.

And then, to make it even better, I start sobbing.

“Baby,” he whispers, sweeping me into his arms, not seeming to care that I’m a gross, pathetic mess.

I sob into his chest, letting him put me in the car and drive me home, and not objecting at all when he takes me up to my room and tucks me into bed.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise I’ll make our life so good that it will make up for all of it,” I think I hear him whisper.

But I’m slipping into a deep, chaotic sleep.

So I can’t be too sure.

* * *

I wake up feeling like I might die.

Sunlight streams in through the curtains, casting a harsh, unforgiving light on my throbbing head. A relentless drumbeat of pain pulses behind my temples, and my stomach roils with nausea.

With a groan, I push myself up from the tangled sheets, feeling disoriented and heavy. The room spins briefly as I try to regain my bearings. The memories of the previous night flood back, an embarrassing reel of slurred words and blurry faces. I'd drowned my sorrows in a sea of alcohol, seeking solace in the bottom of one glass after another.

Regret washes over me, a bitter tide that leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. I've been drowning my sorrows in more ways than one, and I know it's a futile attempt to escape the painful truths that have resurfaced in my life.

Glancing over, I see a glass of water and some Advil sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, a thoughtful gesture from Noah. I take a few sips and down the Advil, hoping it can give me some quick relief.

As I stumble out of bed and make my way to the bathroom, the sight of my reflection in the mirror is far from comforting. My eyes are bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them betraying my restless night. My hair is a tangled mess, and my skin looks pale and drawn.

The cold water from the tap is a shock to my system as I splash it on my face, hoping to chase away the remnants of the alcohol-induced haze. It's a vain attempt to clear my mind, to erase the haunting memories of my drunken confessions and reckless decisions.

With a sigh, I dress in comfortable yet disheveled attire, not bothering with makeup or any semblance of effort. The day stretches ahead of me like an endless expanse of uncertainty, and I'm not sure how to face it. The throbbing in my head has transformed into a relentless drumbeat, pounding out a rhythm of regret and self-recrimination.

Stepping into the kitchen, I debate whether coffee or more water will be the more effective remedy for my hangover. In the end, I settle for a cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will reinvigorate my wilted body. The simple act of sipping the hot liquid feels like a small step toward recovery, a feeble attempt to reclaim some semblance of control.

I can't help but reflect on the choices I made the night before. It was a desperate act, a futile attempt to escape the pain that resurfaced from finding out the truth. But as the harsh morning light illuminates the consequences of my actions, I know that I can't drown my sorrows or erase the past.

Unfortunately, I have to face the fact that the path to healing will be a long and arduous one. I have to confront my past, my fears, and the unresolved emotions that have haunted me for years. There's no easy way out, no shortcut to absolution. It's a journey I have to undertake, step by painful step.

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