Chapter 2
1072 Words
"Welcome to Elacreste, ma'am," the blonde receptionist said, flashing a smile at me that made my stomach crawl.
Elacreste was the kind of place where rich people came to play house for the weekend. I wasn't rich. I'd blown my credit card just to get here, all for a romantic getaway that was supposed to make my relationship stronger.
Joke's on me, I guess.
"I have a reservation," I said, pulling out my phone. "Made it two days ago."
She tapped away at her computer, all smiles and efficiency. "Perfect! Room 345. Here's your key."
The elevator ride up to my room felt endless. Jazz music drifted from hidden speakers, the kind of smooth, sultry stuff that was supposed to set a mood. Instead, it just reminded me of everything I'd lost.
Room 345 was exactly what I'd ordered. Rose petals scattered across the bed in a heart shape. Champagne chilling by the window. Candles everywhere, just waiting to be lit.
God, I was pathetic.
I dumped my suitcase in the corner and threw myself onto the bed. Rose petals stuck to my cheek and my clothes. The silence crushed me. No Ryan cracking jokes. No Ryan pulling me close and making everything okay.
Just me and my spectacular failure of a love life.
My phone buzzed. Estel's name lit up the screen.
Ryan's sister.
I really didn't want to talk to anyone, especially anyone related to Ryan.
I let it ring twice before finally picking up.
"Hey."
"Anna! Finally. I've been trying to reach you all day. Where are you?"
"At the resort."
"Oh right. I forgot you and Ryan were going together this weekend. I've been trying to reach him too.”
“Can I speak with him?"
I closed my eyes. Of course she didn't know. Ryan probably hadn't told anyone about his dirty lifestyle yet.
"He's not here."
"What do you mean he's not here? Did something happen?"
Something happened, alright. Your brother decided he wanted to screw my teacher more than he wanted to marry me.
"It's complicated."
"Anna, you're scaring me. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on. Everything's fine."
"You don't sound fine. You sound like you've been crying."
"I have to go."
"No, wait. Talk to me. Did you guys have a fight?"
A fight. Like this was just some stupid argument we'd work through over dinner.
"Just... leave me alone right now, okay?"
"Anna—"
"I said leave me alone!"
I hung up and threw my phone on the other side of the bed.
I needed a drink…multiple drinks.
The hotel bar was all dim lighting and soft music, packed with couples gazing into each other's eyes. Made me want to puke.
"What can I get you?" the bartender asked. He was a young guy, probably used to serving broken hearts.
"Whiskey. Make it a double."
He poured, I drank. It burned going down, but it was better than the ache in my chest.
"Another?" he asked.
"Why not."
Three drinks later, the world had gone soft around the edges. The pain was still there, but it felt distant now. Manageable.
"Actually," I said, waving at the bartender, "can I get a bottle of champagne to go?"
"You sure about that?"
"Nope. But I'm paying for it,” I answered sharply.
He shrugged and pulled a bottle from the cooler. "Two hundred."
I didn't expect it to be that expensive, but anyways. I was already broke. Might as well go all the way.
Back in my room, I popped the champagne and drank straight from the bottle. It was strong and one could easily tell it was expensive.
I kicked off my heels and sprawled on the bed.
The room tilted slightly when I moved, but it felt good. Better than thinking clearly.
Maybe I could just forget everything. Forget Ryan, forget the wedding we'd talked about, forget the life I thought we were building together.
I set the bottle down and picked up my phone.
I pulled up a video on my phone and let my hand drift down my body. If Ryan didn't want me, fine. I could take care of myself. I'd been doing it before him, I'd keep doing it after.
I slipped my hand under my dress. This was obviously the best way I could fall asleep peacefully.
I heard something. A beep maybe, followed by footsteps.
I froze. Was someone actually in my room or was I that drunk?
Then I heard more footsteps. Those were definitely in my room.
Then the sound of something dropping. Heavy breathing like someone was exhausted.
Shit. Someone was really here.
I opened my eyes and nearly screamed.
A man stood by the foot of the bed. Tall, dark hair, expensive suit but his jacket was slung over his arm and his tie was all loose like he'd been yanking on it. He looked tired as hell, like he'd had the worst day ever.
And he was staring at me like he'd seen a ghost.
We both just stared at each other for a second. Then his face went from shocked to pissed.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?!"
"I—what?" I scrambled to yank my dress down, my face on fire. "This is my room!" I yelled, the p**n still playing before I turned it off.
"No, it's not,” he said coldly. "I booked this room three weeks ago."
"Well I booked it two days ago!" I fumbled for my phone, fingers shaking. "Look—room 345!"
He pulled out his own phone. "Room 345. Reservation confirmed three weeks ago."
We stared at each other. He looked like the kind of man who was used to getting his way. Right now he looked like he wanted to throw me out the window.
"There's obviously been a mistake," I said.
"Obviously." His voice could have frozen water. He was already dialing. "Front desk? This is Derek Morrison in room 345. There's been an error with your booking system."
I sat there feeling like an i***t while he talked. The conversation was short and to the point.
"System glitch," he said after hanging up. "They're completely booked until Monday."
My stomach dropped. "So what does that mean?"
He looked at me with eyes like dark ice. I watched his jaw clench, then relax, like he was forcing himself to stay calm.
"It means we're stuck together, princess."
- Writer
