I didn’t love waking up in James’ bed and him not being there.
It was disconcerting.
Either he hadn’t come home, had slept in another bed because I was snoring too loud or he was up, chipper and I was the only one suffering in my hangover.
I ventured out of bed and wandered into his living room. I couldn’t see any evidence he was there. No keys, no phone, no wallet.
Perhaps I had come home alone.
I didn’t remember what had happened the night before. I intentionally blacked out the second half of the night after I told Taylor how much my heart was breaking from what his brother was doing to me.
I told him how miserable I had been. And how Douglas was tormenting me and how I wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
It was all stupid drunk talk, designed only to make me feel better. Instead of trying to mend the situation with what I said, I choose to forget what happened next.
It’s not a healthy approach to life but it would have to do.
I went over to James’ coffee pod machine and placed one in. The sound of it brewing the drink hurt my head but I knew it would be worth it. I went out onto the small balcony adjoining James’ apartment and sat down with my drink.
The fresh air was heaven on my face. The coffee helped too.
And as I looked over the balcony down to the back of James’ apartment block, I watched a car pull up and James exit the backseat. He was holding a brown paper bag, and two coffees, and wearing the same clothes from the night before.
“Hellloooo” I called out to him. “How are you, dirty stop out?”
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