Everything She Is ✔️

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

I would like to say that I've lived life with no regrets, that regret is just not part of my being. But that's the thing, I can't say that. No matter how much I want to be able to, I just can't. The reason is because I do regret a thing or two.

Well more like a lot of things or two.

And that regret eats away at me. Always sitting there in the back of my head, tauting me with my mistakes, and no matter how hard I try, I just can't shake that soul crushing feeling. So, I learne to live with regrets, I've learned that alcohol makes me numb, it makes me forget the regrets on my mind and make new ones to replace the space.

I've learned that waking up in the bedroom of one of the few friends that never tried to change me, wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, and not remembering a thing from the night before, that seems to go to the top of the list of regrets at the moment. I work up the courage, and finally look over to the side to see Nick sleeping soundly, shirtless, and the feeling of regret makes a deeper sting in my chest and head.

My head is killing me, the throb of the hangover finally punishing me for my sins, and the need to run to the bathroom over takes my body. With my head in the toilet, I feel my hair get pulled away from my face, and a warm hand rub soothing circles on my back. When I finish, I lift my head and put it against the side of the tub, the cold helping me ease the pain. While Nick slowly runs his fingers through my hair, making me feel relaxed.

"Nick," I whisper, turning towards him.

"Hmmmm?"

"What happened last night?" I ask in a small voice, afraid of the answer.

Nick chuckles, "You don't remember?".

"Wow Quinn, I didn't know I was that bad in bed. We had hot steamy sex, and you don't even remember it." He said wiggling his eyebrows at me.

I groan, and he just chuckles, "I'm kidding, but you did try and rape me, kept tugging at my pants and saying that it wasn't fair."

I groan again and he just laughs some more. "It was cute, but I don't want have sex with a drunk girl- it'll probably be too sloppy." He says a smirk playing on his lips.

"Shut up, my head is throbbing." I groan, and he gets up and gets the aspirin, handing two tablets to be and a little Dixie cup of water, then goes and sits next to me and I lay down. My head in his lap, and he just strokes my hair as I close my eyes. At least it wasn't what I thought.

We fall into silence, sitting one the floor of his bathroom, neither of us saying a single word. It's not an uncomfortable silence, but more of an agreed silence. For me it's because of the hang over, and for Nick, I'm sure it's with curiosity running wild in his head as to what happened last night before he came and got me.

And though I remember, I wasn't ready to talk about it. I wasn't ready to say what was going to come out of my mouth. I wasn't ready to let the tears fall out of my eyes, and I wasn't ready to hear the truth pass through my lips. It hurt too much right now.

"Want me to take you home?" Nick asks, and I shake my head.

"Okay, well why don't you get a shower and I'll make breakfast?" I just shrug, but that's good enough for him, and he gets up, and extends his hand for me to take. Once I'm up, he walks back into his bedroom and then quickly returns, carrying a pair of sweats, a tshirt, and a towel.

After he leaves again, I do my business, and I let the pellets of hot water wash away the reminders of regret that are stirring up in my brain, refusing to subside and allow me to think about anything else.