One nightstand with a mysterious man
1296 Words
Five years later…
Soraya gasped sharply, her body jerking as if violently pulled back into itself. Her eyes flew open, burning painfully against the bright light above. She looked around frantically, trying to place where she was.
Her head snapped to the side when she heard the door open. The nurse who walked in dropped the files she was holding, her eyes widening in shock as she screamed.
“Doctor! She’s awake!”
Everything hurt.
Her throat felt dry, her limbs heavy, as if they didn’t belong to her. Panic rose instantly.
“W-where…?” Her voice came out hoarse and broken.
“You’re in the hospital,” a man in a white coat said quickly, leaning into her line of sight. “You’ve been unconscious for a long time.”
“How long?” she whispered.
The doctor hesitated.
“Five years.”
Her mind went blank.
Five… years?
That wasn’t possible.
Her chest tightened painfully. “My father… where is my father?” She could barely remember anything.
The doctor sighed. “Calm down. Your father is fine,” he said, and a small wave of relief washed over her.
Just then, the door opened and a woman barged in. She rushed toward Soraya.
“Is this possible? You’re awake,” she said, her voice soft and filled with concern.
Soraya only stared at the woman, taking everyone by surprise.
“Who—” she paused, then looked at the doctor.
The woman frowned. “I’m your stepmother. You don’t remember me?” she asked.
Soraya shook her head.
Mirela turned to the doctor. “I need an explanation. Why is she awake but can’t remember anything?” she asked, folding her arms.
The doctor nodded. “This is very normal. The accident wasn’t minor, and she’s been unconscious for five years. It’s most likely she has developed amnesia,” he explained.
“Amnesia? How can it be cured?” Mirela asked.
“Time,” the doctor replied. “Her memories are still fragile. Small things may trigger them to return. All she needs right now is rest.”
Everything felt too overwhelming for Soraya. She lay back and closed her eyes.
“I’m tired,” she murmured.
“That’s normal,” the doctor said gently. “Rest. You’ll be discharged soon.”
---
Soraya…
I can vividly remember the day I woke up from the coma—lost, my memories in shambles. I couldn’t even remember my stepmother. The only memories I had were from when I was young, with my real mother and my dad.
I tried to regain my memories, but it was difficult. My stepmother had renovated the house while I was in a coma, and now everything looked brand new. Nothing sparked my old memories.
I had a boyfriend named Jeff. I wanted to surprise him, to feel warmth from him, because I felt frozen inside. I couldn’t breathe or feel properly—everything around me felt strange.
Just when I thought I finally had someone who would make me feel better, I walked in on him sleeping with my stepsister. It was an awful sight. My heart shattered into pieces. I felt completely broken.
My father was always busy, going on different business meeting, I hardly saw him at home and there I was, sitting in a bar, getting wasted.
I couldn’t connect with anyone around me. Even my stepmother, who had been weirdly kind and observant to me since I woke up, felt strange and distant.
---
I remember meeting someone.
His face is still blurry in my memory, but his presence wasn’t. It wrapped around me quietly, steady and grounding. His scent lingered first—sweet, spicy, intoxicating. The kind that made my chest feel warm and unfamiliar, like comfort mixed with danger.
I don’t even remember how we started talking. I only remember that I was the one speaking, words spilling out carelessly, as if I had been holding them in for years. He listened. Really listened. His eyes stayed on me, calm and unreadable, never judging, never interrupting, it was weird because we were both drunk. How was he so calm.
It made me feel seen.
At some point, his hand brushed against mine. It was accidental or maybe not. The contact sent a small spark through me, and I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let my fingers linger, testing the moment, testing him.
“You don’t have to pretend,” he said quietly.
That was all it took.
The dam inside me cracked.
When he leaned closer, I could feel his breath, warm against my cheek. I should have moved back. I should have stopped it. But for the first time since waking up from that coma, I didn’t feel lost. I felt present.
Our lips met—soft at first, hesitant, like we were both asking permission without words. Then the kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, filled with everything I hadn’t been able to feel before. Loneliness. Want. Comfort.
I remember his hand resting at my waist, steady and reassuring. No rush. No force. Just warmth.
One kiss turned into another, and another, until the world outside of that moment faded away. The pain, the betrayal, the confusion—none of it mattered. All that existed was the closeness, the shared silence between breaths.
That night wasn’t wild or reckless like I later told myself it was.
It was quiet.
Intimate.
Two strangers finding refuge in each other, even if only for a moment.
It was my first night with a man.
And even now, I don’t know whether I regret it—or regret needing it so much.
---
I stirred before opening my eyes. The light from the window almost blinded me. I let out a yawn and sat up.
God, my whole body felt sore.
As my vision cleared, I realized I wasn’t in my house—nor in my bedroom.
My eyes widened. What the hell? Where am I? I asked myself, rubbing my eyes to make sure I wasn’t dizzy. Then my intrusive thoughts got the better of me.
I looked down and screamed.
I was completely naked under the sheets.
I quickly covered myself and looked around.
God—no. Oh God, what did I do?
I closed my eyes, trying to think, but panic took over. I remembered drinking and then…
The memory suddenly hit me.
A man. A really handsome man. We talked—no, I talked—and then…
We kissed. A very steamy kiss. And then we went crazy.
I closed my eyes in utter embarrassment.
I need to get out of here before he shows up.
I jumped out of the bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around myself, when the doorbell rang. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
“Um, good morning. This is room service. Could you please open the door?” a voice called.
My heart finally calmed.
I walked slowly to the door and opened it. A woman smiled at me.
“Good morning. We were asked to supply you with your essentials,” she said.
I opened the door wider as other female staff walked in carrying clothes, shoes—practically everything I could need.
My eyes widened.
They were all designer items.
Just who in the world did I sleep with? I wondered.
“If you need anything else, don’t forget to call us,” she said.
I nodded, and they left.
Once again, I felt lost.
I quickly took a shower, changed into the least expensive outfit I could find, and dashed out of the hotel.
My palms were sweaty as I rushed back home. I hoped no one noticed that I’d gone missing.
Never drink alcohol.
It makes you do the unthinkable.
- Writer
