Three Years, Five Months and Eleven Days

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Guys guess how much I love you? A lot is the answer. So much that I'm uploading even though it's eleven thirty at night and I have to get up early in the morning. 

This is an exciting chapter (I hope) it's kind of the beginning of the end, if ya know what I mean? There are six more chapters after this... but yeah.

SO tell me what you think PLEASE.

*********************************************************************************

     I regained consciousness very suddenly. It wasn’t like when you normally wake up, where you shift slowly from sleeping to being awake, it was much quicker. I was in my bed, which didn’t surprise me, even though I didn’t remember going to bed. It was as if my body remembered it but my brain didn’t. I felt a bit fuzzy. I knew plenty of time had passed, I was fairly sure it was late morning, but I didn’t know how it was possible that it had been so long since our dinner the night before. As I rolled over I saw Michael in bed next to me. This didn’t surprise me either. Somehow I had just known he would be there.

     But then I thought about it. Michael was in my bed.

     ‘Crap!’ I cursed, sitting up. I looked down at myself. I wasn’t wearing any clothes. Not even underwear. ‘Fuck!’

     Michael stirred. It was a few seconds after he opened his eyes that he reacted, they widened and he muttered, ‘Oh god.’ I grabbed the covers and pulled them up and over my shoulders.

     ‘Did we-?’ I asked. He didn’t say anything, but just stared. Then he ever so slightly moved his head, up and down, nodding.

     ‘No,’ I whispered. Then louder ‘No!’

     ‘Debby, I’m so sorry,’ Michael said, moving closer to me, to take me in his arms.

     ‘Don’t touch me!’ I cried. ‘You’re naked! Are you sure it really happened?’

     ‘I remember it,’ he confirmed.

     ‘I don’t. I must have been so drunk,’ I managed, close to tears.

     ‘I’m so sorry Debby, this is all my fault. I should have never ordered the champagne, and then I kept on refilling your glass so you lost track of how much you’d drunk. So did I,’ he admitted. ‘We were both really drunk, then we came back here, and you said you were ready. I was too drunk to do the right thing.’

     I clapped my hand to my mouth. It just horrified me. All that stuff and time that just wasn’t there in my head, I’d been with Michael and we’d had sex. The thought made me want to retch.

     ‘I’m so sorry,’ he repeated.

     ‘It’s not your fault,’ I told him.

     ‘Of course it’s my fault! Who else’s is it?’ he pointed out. ‘It’s definitely not yours.’

     ‘You’re right, it’s not mine,’ I agreed. ‘But it’s not yours either. It’s Beth’s.’

     ‘What?’ he asked shocked. ‘What does Beth have to do with anything?’

     ‘It’s-‘ I stopped. ‘I don’t want to explain. I want to get dressed.’ I jumped out of bed, grabbed whatever clothes my hands found first and rushed into the bathroom.

     Michael didn’t protest, he just sat dumbly on the bed, sheets covering his naked body.

     I jumped in the shower and turned the water on full blast. I wasn’t sure what I was trying to wash away. Maybe it was every trace of what I’d done last night. It just disturbed me that this could have happened without me remembering a thing. I could remember the restaurant and ordering food and the food arriving, but somewhere between eating and leaving things got blurry. I had a vague memory of Michael’s face very close to mine and him saying something to me.