Chapter 2

The first thing I felt when I woke up was this pounding in my head, like someone was hammering away inside my skull.

I cracked my eyes open to find myself staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. For a few seconds, I just lay there, dazed and trying to figure out where I was. The room was clean, modern, decorated in soft, neutral colors. Definitely not my apartment. By the look of things, I was in a hotel.

I sat up slowly, the heavy comforter sliding off me as I moved, and immediately regretted it-the motion sent another jolt of pain through my head.

I pressed my hands to my temples, hoping to ease the throbbing. My mouth was dry, my memories from last night were... fuzzy, at best. I remembered the bar, drinking, a conversation with Ethan. But after that? Nothing.

I rubbed my face, trying to get my brain to work. How had I ended up here? Looking around, I didn't see any clues-no scattered clothes, no random belongings. Just me, in an oversized T-shirt, in a bed that wasn't mine.

A sudden knock at the door made me jump. "Room service!"

I blinked, confused. Room service? I definitely didn't order anything. But before I could respond, the door creaked open, and a server rolled in a cart laden with breakfast-eggs, bacon, coffee. The smell wafted over, and even though my stomach was still a bit queasy, I felt an immediate pang of hunger.

"I... I didn't order this," I mumbled, trying to remember if I'd done anything remotely coherent last night.

The server just smiled. "It was ordered by the gentleman who brought you here last night. He also covered the room, instructing us to give you the best service."

I stared at her, processing that. Ethan. It had to be. He hadn't left me stranded or taken advantage of me; he'd made sure I was safe, comfortable, even fed.

"Thank you," I whispered, more to him in my mind than to the server.

After she left, I sat at the little table by the window, gazing out at the city below. The breakfast spread-pancakes, eggs, and coffee-was exactly what I would've chosen if I'd been thinking straight. It was warm, comforting. I ate slowly, trying to collect my memories from last night.

The last clear memory I had was talking to Ethan as he handed me that card.

The card.

I dropped my fork and quickly rummaged through my purse. It wasn't there. Panic bubbled up as I checked my jacket, the bed, even under the pillows. Gone. I must've lost it somewhere between the bar and the hotel.

Without the card, I had no way to reach Ethan to thank him. I sighed. If it was meant to be, maybe we'd run into each other again.

A sense of dread washed over me, I had to go back to my apartment soon. The thought of walking back into that place made my stomach churn, but I didn't have a choice. That was still technically home, even if it felt anything but comforting now.

I had spent a lot of money turning it into what it is today. There is no way I was going to give up on it because of Benson.

---

When I opened the door to the apartment, the first thing I saw was Benson's luggage by the door. The second was him, sitting on the couch like he still belonged there. His head snapped up when I entered, and his face went from surprised to sheepish, though I wasn't buying the guilt act.

"Diane," he started, standing up awkwardly. "I... I didn't know when you'd be back." He stuttered.

"Why are you still here?" I asked, cold and direct. Just seeing him made my skin crawl. All I could think of was him in bed with Veronica, her smug little smile.

Benson stepped forward, hands raised as if he could calm me down with a gesture. "Look, I can explain. I didn't mean for you to find out like that."

I crossed my arms, staying firmly in place. "Oh, were you going to throw a surprise party to announce it? I'm sorry if I ruined your plan." I said with my tone filled with sarcasm.

"Diane..." He began again, but I cut him off saying "I don't want to hear your excuses."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, like he was the one who deserved sympathy. "Look, it's not what you think with Veronica. I'm only with her because... well, she has a lot to offer. Money. I was just using her to get ahead. Once I get what I need, I'll come back. We can go back to how things were."

Was this guy for real? I just stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. "You actually believe that's going to work on me? That I'd ever take you back?"

For a moment, he seemed taken aback, but he quickly regrouped, trying a different angle. "We had something good, Diane. I know I messed up, but I still care about you. I just... need time. Veronica's just-"

"Stop," I cut him off, my voice trembling with anger. "I don't want to hear it. You're disgusting, Benson. You cheated on me, and now you expect me to wait around while you... 'use' her? Do you even hear yourself? No. We're done. For good." My voice rose as I spoke, the fury spilling over.

He opened his mouth like he was going to argue, but I was already moving. His bags by the door, I grabbed them and threw them into the hallway. "Get out," I said, barely holding it together.

"Diane-"

"I said, *get out*!"

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but thankfully he just picked up his bags and left, closing the door behind him with a final thud. I leaned back against the door, exhaling a shaky breath. The apartment felt emptier, and surprisingly very suffocating, and the sight of the place accompanied with the faint scent of Veronica just brought back too many memories I wanted to forget.

You know what? Screw this place. I wasn't staying here another night.

---

Packing didn't take long. Most of my things fit into a few suitcases and boxes. I stared at the now-empty shelves and closets, feeling like I was leaving behind more than just a space. This had been home-or so I'd thought. Now it was just a shell, a reminder of everything that had fallen apart.

The idea of spending another night here made me feel sick. I pulled out my phone and booked another night at the hotel. I'd figure out my living situation later. Right now, I just needed to be anywhere but here.

I locked the door behind me for the last time, letting that chapter close out of my life as I left.

---

Back at the hotel, I collapsed onto the soft, plush bed, sinking into the sheets. Exhaustion washed over me, emotional and physical, and I lay there staring at the ceiling, trying to process everything that had happened.

Grabbing my phone, I scrolled through social media mindlessly, hoping for some kind of distraction. But the universe wasn't on my side. A new post popped up: Veronica, tagging Benson, both of them grinning at some high-end restaurant, looking like they didn't have a care in the world.

I wanted to throw my phone across the room.

Before I could dwell on it too long, a notification popped up. A follow request-from an account with no profile picture, no posts, just a weird string of letters and numbers. It was vaguely familiar; I'd seen it liking my posts before, but it had never actually followed me.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I accepted the request. A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.

The caller ID read Dad. Someone I hadn't spoken to in over a year.