Destined to be yours

I woke up suddenly, my heart racing, pain shooting through my body. Bright sunlight pierced through the curtains, making me squint. As I blinked, panic hit me,I was naked. The white sheets barely covered me, leaving me exposed. My clothes were scattered across the room: my black dress crumpled by the door, my lace underwear draped over a chair, and my heels tossed aside. My phone lay face down on the floor, and my hair band was tangled in the sheets, a silent reminder of last night’s chaos. A wave of panic surged through me. What happened? Who slept with me? My mind raced, bombarded by questions I was too afraid to answer. I remembered flashes of neon lights, loud music, and the overpowering smell of sweat and spilled drinks. I could almost hear strangers laughing, glasses clinking, the relentless thump of bass vibrating through my bones. Oh no. Sophia. She had insisted we go to the nightclub for my birthday. “Loosen up, Amelia! You need to have some fun!” she’d said, her excitement infectious. I had hesitated, overwhelmed by the thought of crowds and noise, but she convinced me. “Just this once, it’ll be great!” she promised, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I wanted to refuse, but her energy was contagious. We drank shots of tequila, each one making me feel more carefree. I remembered Sophia’s laughter and the warmth of the dance floor, but then… darkness. Nothing but a blank void. I had warned Sophia about my limits, and yet here I was, trapped in this nightmare. I tried to sit up, but pain shot through me like electricity. I felt bruised, as if I’d been in a fight. My stomach churned, a cruel reminder of the night’s excesses. I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to vomit, but the air felt heavy, suffocating. The room was unfamiliar—a bland hotel suite devoid of warmth or character. The king-size bed was a mess, sheets tangled and twisted. Two half-empty glasses sat on the nightstand, one smeared with pink lipstick. Mine. I stared at them, dread pooling in my stomach. Then my gaze landed on a piece of paper beside the glasses. My heart sank as I reached for it, my hands trembling. What could it possibly say? The note was written in messy, hurried handwriting: “You are a very sweet girl, and I don’t mind if you want to give me more. This is my number.” My blood boiled as I read the words again, each sentence dripping with casual entitlement. He slept with me, knowing I was drunk, and left this arrogant note? Did he think I was some kind of streetwalker? Sickened, I crumpled the paper, tearing it into shreds before flushing them down the toilet. “Stupid man,” I muttered, fury and humiliation tightening my throat. I didn’t want to know him. I didn’t want to remember him. I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, and my stomach twisted. My hair was a tangled mess, makeup smudged beyond recognition, and my eyes were bloodshot and swollen. I didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me. I needed to get out. I needed to find Sophia. My hands shook as I grabbed my phone. Multiple missed calls from Sophia filled the screen, along with frantic messages: “Where did you go?” “Amelia, are you okay? Call me!” Anxiety gripped me. Where was she? Did she even realize I wasn’t out yet? Did she know how deep I’d fallen into this mess? I couldn’t face her yet. I was too ashamed, too confused. I gathered my clothes, wincing as pain radiated through my body. My black dress was crumpled, smelling faintly of alcohol and regret. I struggled to zip it up, feeling exposed and vulnerable. My ruined underwear went straight into the trash; there was no way I’d ever wear them again. Sliding my feet into my heels, I stumbled, my legs weak and wobbly. I tried to fix my hair, but it was hopeless. Nothing could hide how broken I felt. One last look around the room filled me with disgust. I had to forget this place. I had to forget everything. I fled down the hallway, head down, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t want anyone to see me, to judge me. The elevator ride was agonizingly slow, each second stretching painfully as I willed myself to hold it together. When the doors finally opened, sunlight blinded me, harsh and unforgiving. I staggered outside, looking around frantically. Where was Sophia? Then I saw her across the street, leaning against a lamppost, phone pressed to her ear. Relief flooded me, and I rushed toward her, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. “Sophia!” I croaked, my voice hoarse. She turned, her eyes widening. “Amelia! Where have you been? I’ve been calling you nonstop!” Her voice wavered with worry, her arms reaching for me. I froze, words failing me as tears blurred my vision. Everything I’d been holding back threatened to break free. “Oh God… Are you okay? What happened?” she demanded, her face etched with panic. I shook my head, choking on my emotions. I couldn’t tell her. Not here. Not now. Sophia wrapped her arms around me, holding me tightly. I clung to her, trembling, desperate to hold it together. Her embrace was a lifeline, grounding me in the chaos. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I just wanted you to have fun… I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I forced a weak smile. “It’s not your fault. Things just… got out of control.” Her face softened, guilt shadowing her eyes. “It happens to me too sometimes,” she admitted, her voice low. “Last night, I ended up with a stranger. But he gave me $3,000…” She held up her phone, showing me the message. My eyes widened. “$3,000?” I repeated, my voice hollow. She nodded. “His name’s Marcus Longwood. At least he paid for the mistake.” I felt a surge of bitterness. At least she knew his face and his name. I didn’t even remember the face of the man who had been with me, talkless of name. I swallowed hard, my throat burning as the words slipped out. “Sophia… I don’t even know who I was with last night.” Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?” “I woke up alone. No name. No clue who he was. Just a stupid note…” My voice broke, shame clawing at my chest. Sophia's eyes widened in horror. “Amelia… Oh my God… You didn’t know who you were with last night? Where did he go? What did he write?” I shrugged, my facade crumbling. “I don’t know.” She pulled me into a tight hug, her voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I just wanted us to have fun. I didn’t think…” I forced a smile, hating how guilty she looked. “It’s not your fault. We just… went too far.” She nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes. “I promise… No more clubs. We’ll find other ways to have fun.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Yeah… Something safer.” She managed a weak smile. “I was thinking… a relaxation center. No drinking. Just peace.” My shoulders relaxed, the idea soothing my frayed nerves. “I’d like that.” Sophia’s eyes filled with determination. “We’ll get through this, Amelia. Together.” “Maybe we’ll go tomorrow,” she suggested. “No, I still feel sleepy. I need some rest,” I replied. “My friend still feels sleepy after hours of drinking,” she teased, reaching for her car keys as we approached her car. “You’re not serious,” I shot back, laughing. She smirked. “You know, when someone’s not used to something, it feels strange. You’re used to Mum’s homemade stuff, not this.” I laughed again, feeling a little lighter. Just as we reached her car, my phone buzzed. I glanced down, heart racing at the name flashing on my screen. My former boss. Hot fury surged in my stomach. Why was he calling me?