The Devil’s Healer

SOPHIA POV: The first thing I feel is pain. It’s not unbearable, just a dull ache behind my eyes. Each heartbeat feels louder than it should. I let out a quiet groan and keep my eyes closed for a moment longer. Maybe if I don’t open them, yesterday won’t be real. Another pulse of pain reminds me that isn’t how it works. I slowly force my eyes open. Sunlight slips through the curtains, making me squint. I stare at the unfamiliar ceiling above me before pushing myself upright. The room spins. I grip the mattress until it settles. “This isn’t my apartment,” I whisper. I look around, taking in the expensive furniture, the enormous bed, and the unfamiliar room. Everything is too polished, too perfect. My heart starts to race. Then I see it. My black satin dress lies on the floor beside one silver heel. The other heel is under an armchair. My clutch rests neatly on a small table. My heart drops. Fragments of last night rush back. My breath catches. Fragments of the previous night push their way into my mind. Inferno. The music. The lights. Sophia dragging me onto the dance floor. Cocktails, too many cocktails. A stranger. Warm hands. Dark eyes. A slow dance. A kiss. Another kiss. Heat floods my face. “Oh, God.” I cover my mouth. No. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t. But deep down, I already know. I pull the sheets tighter around myself. My body feels unfamiliar. Not hurt or violated, just aware. Aware of every choice I made. Aware of every memory trying to return. Suddenly, I remember enough. I slept with him. A complete stranger. The realization crashes over me like a wave. "What have I done?" My voice trembles. This isn't me. I don't go hook up with men I meet in clubs. I don't drink until I lose control. I don't wake up in unfamiliar beds, I don’t have a one night stand. So why did I last night? Ashamed, I close my eyes. For the first time in years, I don't recognize myself. Taking a slow breath, I force myself to look toward the other side of the bed. He's still asleep, one muscular arm draped over a pillow that hides his face. Only his dark hair, broad shoulders, and part of his bare back are visible above the blanket. For reasons I can't fully grasp, relief washes over me. I don't want to see his face. Not because I'm afraid he'll hurt me, but because seeing him would make this real. If I learn his face, if I remember his eyes, if I ask his name, last night becomes more than a mistake. It turns into a memory. One I will never forget. No. I don't want that. I quietly slide out of bed. The cool marble floor sends a shiver through my body. Every tiny sound feels deafening. I reach for my dress and quickly pull it over my head. The zipper catches halfway. "Please," I whisper. After another attempt, it finally slides into place, and I let out a small sigh of relief. Next is my purse. It's exactly where I left it, or where one of us left it, I don't remember. I pick it up. My phone vibrates inside, lighting up with several missed calls and unread messages. I don't read any of them. I know they'll be from Sophia. She'll worry. She'll ask where I spent the night and who he is. Questions I can’t answer. Questions I don’t want to think about. Not now. Without another glance at the screen, I silence my phone and tuck it back into my purse. I can't face anyone. Not until I face myself. I bend down to get my other heel from beneath the armchair. My fingertips brush the strap. Almost, almost, I pull it free. The leg of the chair scrapes against the marble floor. The sound freezes my blood. Behind me, he moves. Every muscle in my body locks. Please, don't wake up. I don’t breathe. I don’t blink. I don’t move. For several agonizing seconds, I hear only the frantic pounding of my own heart. He shifts once beneath the pillow, a low, sleepy sigh escaping him. Then silence. He’s still asleep. Relief rushes through me so quickly my knees almost give out. Too close. Way too close. I decide not to put my heels on. Barefoot is quieter. Holding the heels tightly in one hand, I make my way toward the bedroom door. Halfway there, I stop. A small voice whispers, look back. Just once. See who he is. Find out the name of the man you spent the night with. My grip tightens around my shoes. No. I can't. If I see him, part of me may never let go of last night. I place my hand on the doorknob and turn it carefully. The door opens silently. The hallway is quiet. I move quickly, following the staircase until I reach the entrance. I glance at the clock. 4:36 a.m. . Earlier than I expected. Good. Most people are probably still asleep I slip my heels on before opening the front door. Cool morning air hits my face. The cool morning air greets me the moment I step outside. For the first time since waking up, I can breathe. I quietly close the front door behind me, the soft click echoing through the stillness. That’s it. It’s over. Without looking back, I walk down the driveway toward the main road. By the time I reach the gate, dawn is beginning to color the sky. A taxi approaches. I raise my hand. It slows beside me, and the driver lowers his window. “Where to, miss?” I hesitate. Then I give him Sophia’s address. As the taxi pulls away, I stare through the window in silence. I tell myself last night was a mistake. One reckless choice. One secret I’ll bury so deeply that no one, not even Sophi will ever know the truth. I don’t know his name. I never see his face. And after today, I convince myself I’ll never see him again. I couldn’t be more wrong.