Headache? Check. Hangover? Check. Heartbreak? That’s the real question mark. But nothing hurts more than pure, unfiltered embarrassment.
I remember sticking my face in the toilet bowl last night, vomiting like a possessed raccoon. Thankfully, Stefano was there—to hold my hair back, rub soothing circles on my spine, and treat me like a delicate liability.
And yes, I’m embarrassed as hell to the point that I can't think of a way to thank him or do something to show how much I appreciate what he did last night.
I didn’t even know when he left. All I know is... he took care of me.
“Well, if it wasn’t because of Johnny, none of this would've happened,” I muttered, gritting my teeth.
“First, the thing about him getting married—whatever the hell that shitty as news was—and then Tamara just h
