If I Could

{71} - Scandal

Happy New Year's Eve! I want to thank every single one of you for sticking with this story through 2018. I have to admit that writing this story has taken me a lot longer than I expected, when I started writing it I thought I'd finish it in six months and it's been a year and a month 😂 Some chapters are really hard to write and sometimes I don't know what to write or how to write it and I change the plot many times, so that is why I am slow with updates sometimes! That is why I want to thank you guys for being patient with me. I'm thankful for every read, vote and comment I've received this year! And now I'd like to say thank you for more than 40k reads! ❤️ Let's have the time of our lives in 2019. Love you all! See you in 2019! 💜

Belle Bulsara woke up feeling like she had just been run over by a truck. Her whole body was in pain, from head to toe, and she was sure she was feeling the most intense headache of all time. Was this.. a hungover? Because it truly didn't feel like it. Alcohol could not possibly do this to a human body. Death itself was probably less painful than this.

The first thing that came to her mind was the fact that she didn't know where she was. She looked around the room she was in; it was large with bare, cream colored walls. There was an attached bathroom to the right, tiny droplets of water cascading against the sink's steel, and to the left of it the window was slightly open, the sound of birds effervescent and enchanting. She still had no idea where she was. Memories started to come back to her head. She couldn't remember much, unfortunately. She attended Gwilym's party, then she sat down with Ben and they talked about the newest episode of their favourite show. And that was it. Belle felt terrible, and she blamed Gwilym Lee for it. What the hell did the drink he had given her contained? Wait no, she blamed Ben and then Gwilym because Ben had left her on her own at a party while being drunk, what kind of friend was that? Belle wasn't sure what she'd say -or do- to him next time she saw him.

Belle decided to get out of bed, placing her hand on the opposite side of the bed in order to balance herself. She nearly had a heart attack when she was met with smooth skin and a strong male cologne. In reflex, Belle jerked away from the masculine figure like he was a flame, and she turned to see who he was in horror. She felt like panic almost choked her when she realised it was Ben Hardy, as in the man who was her boss, Michelle's husband, and her fiancé's cousin. She wasn't the biggest fan of alcohol, and she was in no ways an irresponsible drinker, and she didn't like Ben romantically, so how did they end up sleeping in the same bed, together? It truly didn't make sense to her, but most importantly, how was she capable of doing this to Roger? She could feel pure hysteria setting in, her body shaking uncontrollably as she felt tears well up in her eyes.

Ben immediately woke up after feeling Belle's touch, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The first thing he saw was Belle's red dress thrown on the floor, letting him know where he was. He turned to his side and saw Belle sitting on the edge of the bed. He only had to look at her expression to know she was suffering. She was wearing black underwear, her face was flush, mascara trailing down her cheeks, her lipstick smudged. The first thing Ben noticed was that there were huge maroon bruises under her jaw, hickeys he had surely given her but didn't remember how or why. He was dreading for the moment she took notice of them. Maybe it was better to tell her himself.

"Are you okay?", Ben questioned as he unwrapped himself from the sheets and Belle felt like he had just asked the most sarcastic question of the year.

Belle looked at him with fury, standing up to get dressed in front of the mirror.

"Why the hell did you give me hickeys, Ben?", Belle exclaimed in a low but furious voice, terrified of what this meant. She was only six days away from her wedding day. Roger will probably call the wedding off if he sees her hickeys.