Worth The Fight ✓

Chapter Twenty Seven

QUOTE OF THE CHAPTER:

  "We all do things we desperately wish we could undo. Those regrets just become part of who we are, along with everything else. To spend time trying to change that, well, it's like chasing clouds."
― Libba Bray

Dedication: @therapy- (for her comments. Check her story Phone Calls!)

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CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

You may live only once but believe me, you don't die once.

Sometimes your heart starts to pound against your chest so fast that it would be the same if it stopped. Sometimes you die because of felicity, and it is worth every moment of your life. It's one of those moment you wish you would never wake up again. But sometimes, it's because of regret; that burdening emotion which is equal to guzzling a bottle of vodka all at once – and it feels the worst. At those moments, death becomes terrifying.

Apparently, in the morning when I wake up beside Richard in a room that I had no idea how I've ended up in and with a massive hangover, I experience the latter version of death. The burdening one – the terrifying. I blink several times to make sure it's not a nightmare, wishing it is. Yet the scene in front of me never changes – I never happen to transport into my own bed.

I don't need the wise man to tell me we've done it. Slipping my fingers into my messy hair and letting out a nervous laugh, I throw the sheet off, getting up with haste. I pull on my dress, which was thrown on the ground, in a quick way, glancing over my shoulder back at Richard to check if he's still sleeping. His back is turned at me and I can hear him snoring softly. I look at myself in the mirror beside the door and all I see is a fucked-up girl in every possible way.

Finally everything was going smoothly. I have fixed my relationship with my family, I've found the guts to tell Calvin that I love him. My life felt perfect for a moment but I'm allergic to perfection, therefore life does everything to screw me over.

I try to remember last night but it's all blank. I don't remember how I ended up with Richard and this room – I was searching for a bathroom. I remember telling Calvin that I'll leave early though. I let out a sigh; at least he thought I am home. Thinking he might have sent a message to let me know that he's gotten home last night, I search for my cell in the room. Eventually I realise it on the nightstand next to where Richard is sleeping so I slowly get on the bed again, leaning over him to reach it.

A hopeful thought crosses my mind at that moment. Perhaps he was as drunk as me – otherwise why did we even do this? So if I disappear on time, he'll remember nothing and I will not have to tell anyone. Not Calvin. I'll not be so screwed over after all. I smile at my own idea and it seems almost perfect until a hand grabs my wrist as I withdraw my arm with the cell in my hand.

I throw a horrified look at Richard and he keeps looking at me sharp. "Where do you think you're going?" His sleepy voice echoes in my ear for a while and I think I'm finally caught. It was so perfect to dream that he won't wake up anyway. I withdraw my hand quickly, getting out of bed and walking to the door. I still have time, I tell myself, I can flee. I gaze down at my cell and I notice I have a message from Calvin.

Sent at 1:03 am. I'm home. Jack I'm so sorry for tonight. I hope you're not so mad at me. I know how to make it up though. ;)

It shatters my heart into pieces. I am disgusted with myself. I glance back at Richard who is still intently watching me. I take a breath before replying. "Richard, do you remember what happened last night?" This is the worst question ever.