My entire body ached. From my head to my toes, it was a sea of pain. Even the slightest movement caused an onslaught of violence in my joints. It didn't matter that I was lying on the softest of silk sheets, which were cool against my skin in the morning air. Dizziness slammed into me as my head began swimming. I didn't dare move or open my eyes, knowing it would only be worse. Instead, I stilled, leaning into the comforting warmth enveloping me.
Vaguely, I scolded myself. I don't think I've ever been so hungover in my life. Granted, I am only twenty-three. But still, I feel like someone's set a jackhammer to my temple. With limited success, I tried to recall ways to cure a hangover. Drinking a raw egg, although I doubted there was a ready supply of eggs nearby. Unfortunately, that was all I could come up with. This only deepened my annoyance; I was a nurse, for crying out loud. Surely I could come up with one reasonable way to get rid of a hangover.
Groaning miserably, I turned to check the alarm clock on the nightstand. Nine. Not too late. Pretty good for waking up this wrecked. My eyes blurred at the exercise, complaining that letting in this much light was bad for my headache. The thick, dark curtains were shut, but it was still much too blinding in the room. Wearily, I looked over at Kylie and Nina. Then I frowned; where was their bed? I had won the game of rock-paper-scissors for having my own bed, but now theirs was gone entirely. In its place was a stainless steel kitchen, complete with a double oven and a dishwasher. I frowned, then quickly stopped since the gesture hurt my head. We would've never splurged for a luxury like a kitchen. Yet for some reason, it was there. I couldn't remember if it had been there when we'd checked in yesterday. Then I mentally kicked myself; of course it had been there. Kitchens couldn't just get up and walk around. Maybe I didn't remember it, but it was ridiculous to assume it hadn't been.
Wanting to see just how much the rest of our hotel room had changed, I rolled over. A scream of terror escaped my lips when I found a man lying next to me, dead asleep. A man wearing no clothes, to be more specific. As he jolted awake, I realized that I, too, did not have a lick of clothing on. Nauseous, I snatched a loose sheet and quickly yanked it up to my shoulders.
"W-what's-" The man abruptly stopped as he realized that he wasn't alone. He blushed and immediately covered himself with the blankets, asking, "Who are you?"
"Me? Who are you?" I asked shrilly, a sickening dread filling my stomach.
He shrugged. "I mean, this is my hotel room, I think it's more fitting I ask who you are."
His hotel room. So I hadn't been going crazy; this wasn't the room I'd booked with Kylie and Nina. Kylie and Nina! Where were they? Had I left them on their own to fend for themselves? Maybe they were fine, but I was definitely a crappy friend for ditching them to go spend the night with a stranger.
"I...look, do you remember anything about how I got here?" I asked in desperation.
"It's all very fuzzy," he said, making my heart drop. "Last thing I remember is being angry at Mother and wanting to get a drink, then...nothing."
Nothing felt so ominous. My own brain was filled with nothing as well. My memories were patchy at best. Last night, the three of us had been getting dressed up. I remembered Kylie, running around trying to do makeup and wearing frighteningly tall heels. We'd gone to a bar. Or at least, that had been the plan. Now that I thought about it, I couldn't remember actually being at the bar. I think we'd parked the car, at least. Yes, now I remembered Nina shoveling spare change into the meter. After that, it was a blank void.
The last thirteen hours had been wiped from my brain.
"Oh dear," I said queasily.
The man spoke up. "Um, I hate to rush you, especially since we're both confused, but uh, would you mind if we both got dressed before carrying on with this conversation?" he said, wincing in embarrassment.
"Not at all," I said hastily, wanting to be rid of my makeshift sheet-dress. But then I blushed and said, "Er, I don't have my suitcase."
He glanced around the room, only finding a plastic white suitcase by the window. "Well um, surely you came in wearing something," he said awkwardly.
I dearly hoped he was right. Peering over the edge of the bed, I finally found a short white dress crumpled on the floor, along with my undergarments. I didn't recognize the dress, which only made me wonder where I'd gotten it. Mortified, I snatched up the pile of clothes and shuffled into the bathroom. Had I been in a less embarrassing situation, I might've taken time to appreciate the hotel. It certainly was elegant, but my gaze was mostly glued to the floor.
Another horrible thought arrived: I hadn't seen my phone anywhere in the main room. Or my heels, for that matter. But I had too many problems to be worrying about, and shockingly, those weren't a priority. That scared me, that not having my phone, identification, or money was suddenly not a priority.
Desperately, I tried to hold onto what little dignity I had left (if there was any at all) as I walked back into the room. The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, and I was relieved to discover that he was dressed, wearing joggers and a t-shirt. He was much easier to look at now that he was actually wearing clothes, although it didn't take away much of the awkwardness. He had cropped brown hair, almost enough to brush the tops of his eyebrows. His hazel eyes, while warm, were narrowed in a frown as he stared at his screen. He was somewhat on the taller side, around six feet or so, well-built and had stocky shoulders. Part of me was envious of his outfit; while my dress wasn't necessarily uncomfortable, the skirt length was almost dangerous and I was painfully aware that one section was damp with water, like I'd dropped it in a puddle.
The man looked up, setting his phone on the nightstand. I was slightly relieved to see that he looked mildly terrified, mirroring my own expression. He exhaled slowly, saying, ""Can we start over? My name's Grayson Answell."
I offered him a thin smile. "Jackie Langford," I said quietly, still feeling incredibly awful—inside and outside.
His own smile was a kind one, although it felt a little forced. "Nice to meet you, Jackie."
"Nice to meet you too," I said, even though we both knew this was nothing like starting over. We were both much too painfully aware of the situation.
"Okay, so let's figure out some things. I can go first, if you'd like," he offered, again showing unexpected kindness. Thankfully, he didn't seem like a jerk.
Shyly, I nodded, except I was too terrified to go first. We both sat on the bed, on the same edge but turned towards each other. I anxiously clenched the sheets in my hand, my knuckles turning painfully white.
"Where do you live?" I asked in a small voice.
"Vancouver," Grayson replied.
This surprised me. "You're Canadian?"
He nodded. "Well, I live there sometimes. I also have an apartment in Toronto. I work for my family's business, under my father."
"What's your family's business?" I asked.
He hesitated. "You could technically say that I'm a big businessman, except that usually makes me feel big-headed. It's mostly trading stocks."
My lips twitched with a smile, but I was still too nauseous to think much about anything. "Tell me why you're in Vegas."
Here, Grayson flinched. "I uh, I needed to get away from some stuff going on at home. flew in Thursday, my flight home is scheduled for Sunday night. This hotel is the Bellagio, I'm not sure if you knew where you were." I hadn't known. I definitely hadn't known I was at the fanciest hotel in the city.
Then I realized it was my turn. For a moment, I was certain that if I opened my mouth, I would vomit. But I swallowed and said, "Right. Um, I'm a nurse, in Arlington." I paused, but he nodded, aware of where it was. "I'm twenty-three. And...this was my first time in Vegas." Here his eyes went slightly wide. Alarmed, I asked, "How old are you?"
"Twenty-four," he said quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just surprised that it was your first time here."
I squirmed. Of course my first time in Vegas would be a disaster. But I went on. "My friends and I, we're staying at Paris," I said. "We came on Thursday, leaving Sunday.
Concern flashed across his face. "Your friends, have you heard from them?" Grayson asked.
"I lost my phone," I whispered, embarrassed. My dress didn't have pockets, and if I'd been drunk enough to lose my memory for a whole night, I certainly wouldn't have remembered to keep track of my phone.
"Okay, do you know their numbers? You can use mine," he said kindly, grabbing his from the nightstand.
"Thank you," I whispered, a crack in my voice. I was one step closer to going home.
But Kylie wouldn't pick up. I immediately thought that she was in a similar predicament, but I couldn't imagine the worst. That would only lead to me totally freaking out. Taking a deep breath, I tried Nina.
"Hello?" she said, sounding exhausted.
Relief washed over me. "Nina, I'm so glad to hear from you," I blurted out. "I'm so sorry that I abandoned you guys last night. I honestly have no idea how it happened. But I promise, I'll be the responsible person you wanted on this trip from now on. Where are you?"
"The hospital. You abandoned us?" she asked, sounding confused.
"The hospital? What happened?" I asked, covering my mouth with my hand. My irresponsibility had suddenly gotten much, much more serious.
"Jackie, you're scaring me. My mom had an accident, remember? I got a flight home after dinner last night. You and Kylie said you'd be fine!" Nina's voice was rising in her panic.
"Um, yeah, I did say that." I didn't remember it, but that sounded like something I'd say. "Look, if you hear from her, just let me know. I'm pretty sure she's just asleep, but..."
"I will. So what happened to you then?"
I squirmed, too aware of Grayson, sitting only a few feet away. "I...got sidetracked," I mumbled, my face hot with shame.
"No way. With a guy?" I didn't appreciate how excited she sounded.
I blushed, wanting to be able to say no. "Yes, but neither of us really remember much and everything's still confusing. I'll call you back when I've got an actual idea of what to do, okay?"
"Are you okay? Is he still there?" she wanted to know.
"I'm fine, just super hungover," I said. "And yes, he seems nice. We're working everything out."
Nina lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Is he really hot?"
For that, I hung up on her. I handed Grayson his phone back, saying, "Thank you. I'll have to try Kylie again later. Do you need to call anyone?"
Something flickered in his eyes, but he only said, "No, I'm here on my own. But I should probably work on getting you back to your hotel."
"No, no, I can get an Uber. Or take the tram," I said hastily, not wanting to cause him any more trouble than I already had.
"No, really, I insist," he said, again giving me that kind smile.
"If you're sure," I said, since I secretly thought he felt bad and wanted to repay me in any way he could. I understood the feeling, except I had no way to repay him.
"Okay then, all set?" he asked, heading over to the table to grab his keys and wallet.
"Not like I have anything to pack," I said grimly.
But Grayson's smile had drained away as he held a paper in shaking hands. "Jackie?"
"Yes?" I said timidly. What the paper said, I had no idea.
He handed it to me and asked, "Did we do this?"
Getting up, I looked it over. It was a very-official looking document, and my heart stopped beating for a moment after I read it to myself. Stunned, I looked up at him in disbelief.
"Do you remember any of it?" he asked urgently, his face turning a fascinating shade of green.
"Nothing," I whispered, feeling as sick as he looked.
Grayson sat down in shock. "We're married?"
Apparently, yes, we were married.