Chapter 19 Sasha
NINETEEN
SASHA
Iwoke up to pain, or pain is what woke me.
Either way, before I even opened my eyes, I had a blinding headache. My mouth was dry, causing my tongue to feel thick. My stomach was rolling, and it felt like the slightest move would have me heaving.
I wasn’t sure what to do. I needed water, but that meant moving, and moving meant puking.
I thought back on the night before, trying to remember what led me to where I was.
I remembered going out with my friends. I remembered drinking.
Even though I didn’t ever drink, I was having such a fun time dancing with the girls that I had way too much.
I had heard about how bad hangovers could be, but I never experienced one.
Then I remembered something else.
Roman.
Memories came rushing into my mind, one after another. He told me to come home, was there in the living room when I arrived, and carried me to my room.
My body filled with heat again at the memory of his touch. He was in my room, in my bed. My eyes opened, and I turned my head from one direction to the other, finding my bed empty.
I breathed a sigh of relief and confusion. At the forefront of my mind, I wondered if I had dreamed it all. Surely he wouldn’t have gotten into bed with me. Deep down, though, I knew that he had because I asked him to.
He had gotten up at some point. Probably the moment I fell asleep. Still, he left me with a glass of water and two Tylenol on the bedside table.
Even though moving caused my stomach to roll with sickness, I forced myself to reach for the water and pills.
I downed them quickly and then rested my head back on the pillow.
The pounding was too loud, the pain too intense.
Just lifting my head made me dizzy. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out why people would drink alcohol.
It didn’t even taste all that good. Even the colorful, fruity drinks that looked like they should taste good didn’t.
They all had that spice, that kick that warmed your belly the moment it settled.
I wasn’t a fan.
It did make it a little easier to have fun, though. And apparently, it gave me liquid courage. I couldn’t remember everything Roman and I talked about, but I knew I must have said some things I wouldn’t have said any other time for him to end up in my bed.
I pushed everything away and forced myself to get up.
I had a kid to take care of, and I needed to get my shit together to do it.
I slowly stood from bed and headed toward the bathroom.
I moved at a snail’s pace, and it helped to keep the sickness from growing too strong.
It allowed me to brush the horrible taste from my mouth and take a quick shower.
Instead of dressing like I normally would, I opted for a lazy day of sweats and a messy bun.
I had just made myself a cup of coffee when Sophia walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “I hungry.”
I sipped my coffee.
“What are you in the mood for?” I asked, praying she didn’t want anything that required too much work.
She looked up at me and frowned, probably confused by my disheveled appearance. “Muffins.”
“Perfect,” I said, lifting the glass cover of the cake stand. I grabbed the blueberry muffin sitting there and tossed it to her gently.
She caught it and giggled. “And milk?”
I nodded. “Go ahead and go to the table. I’ll pour it.”
She did as I asked, and I poured her milk into her cup, then took my coffee and hers over to the table. I sat across from her, sipping my coffee and watching her eat.
“Did you have fun last night?” I asked.
She grinned and nodded. “We had a tea party and watched Jurassic Park!”
I flinched from the volume of her excitement. “It’s so weird you like that old movie,” I muttered. “Aren’t girls your age supposed to like princesses and stuff?”
She frowned. “Girls can like dinosaurs too, silly.”
Her expression made me laugh, but I covered it with a cough and nodded.
“You’re right. They can.” I took another sip and grabbed a muffin for myself. “You know, that was one of your mom’s favorite movies, too.”
Her brows lifted. “It was?”
I nodded. “Yep, and I was scared of it. She’d make me watch, and I’d close my eyes and scream. She’d laugh and laugh,” I said, smiling while remembering the sound of her giggles.
Sophia giggled, and it sounded almost the same.
“What else was my mommy like?”
Sophia never got the chance to meet her mom, so it was almost as if she were talking about a fictional character she admired. Like she was talking about Superman or something. She watched me with wide eyes as I thought about different bits of information I could give her.
“She didn’t have any one favorite color, but she loved anything tie-dye. She loved to swim. Your grandma always said that she thought Chloe was part fish. Then she joked that I was part cat because I hated the water.”
“I like to swim too!”
I shuddered from her shrill voice. “You do?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, nodding.
“Chloe was a bit of a tomboy at times, but she was also super girlie too,” I told her.
“She loved any story where the prince saved the princess. And as she got older, she continued to read stories about different princes and princesses. She liked to have people’s attention.
She was always setting up little concerts for the family.
She’d sing, dance, and pound on the piano in our living room.
And after a performance, you had to cheer for her.
She was always very loud, demanding everyone’s attention. ”
“What about you?” Sophia asked.
“Me?” I thought about my answer. “I was the total opposite. She loved water; I hated it. She liked scary movies; I hated them. She wanted attention, and I wanted none. Everything she did had people watching her. And I couldn’t do anything unless I was alone.
We were like night and day. If she were still around, I’m sure we still would be.
She was as bright as the sun, and I was like the moon, only coming out when most people were no longer paying any attention. ”
“I like the sun.”
I nodded. “Everyone does.”
Her eyes seemed to lighten. “But I like the moon too.” She smiled slightly, and I couldn’t help but feel like she was giving me her stamp of approval.
I smiled, warmed by her gesture.
“I like the moon too,” I agreed.
She giggled and went back to eating her muffin.
I picked at mine, eating what I could with as nauseous as I was. I only managed to get half of it down before giving up and pushing it away. I finished the entire cup of coffee, though. I knew I’d need the caffeine to keep up with Sophia for the day.
Sophia liked to pick out all the blue spots in her muffin, so by the time she was done, the table, the floor, and the chair she was sitting in were covered in muffin crumbs. I dusted her off and sent her into the living room to play while I cleaned up.
I joined her a few minutes later, and the two of us lay around for a little while, just watching cartoons. After about an hour, Sophia didn’t have it in her to sit still any longer. She got up and went to retrieve some toys, bringing them back to me so we could play together.
She took it easy on me, never getting annoyed that I didn’t want to get off the couch. She even went along with the silly games I made up while lying down. Eventually, though, I had to get up and fix some lunch.
I felt better than I had, but I still didn’t feel great.
I was ready to try eating some real food, so I put in more effort than I had for breakfast. Sophia wanted some chicken strips, so I made enough for both of us.
I made her some fries as a side, but I wrapped my strip up in lettuce and a tortilla with some ranch.
I diced up some fruit and served the meal with a cup of juice. She dug in while watching cartoons, and I polished off my two wraps faster than I thought possible.
After lunch, I got her settled down long enough to fall asleep. As much as I wished I could join her for a nap, I had too much stuff to do around the house. Laundry needed to be done, and I had to start planning out dinner.
I didn’t know if Roman would come home for dinner.
Actually, I wondered where he even was since it was a Sunday and the office wasn’t open.
I thought about texting him to see, but then I figured he’d ignore me as he had been, so I dismissed the thought.
Wondering where he was left me thinking more about the night before, and before I knew it, I couldn’t get him off my mind.
I didn’t know what was going on between us, or how we’d ended up where we’d been the night before. All I knew was that I liked it, but did he? Would it happen again? Could more happen? And what exactly did I mean by more anyway? As I stood at the dryer, folding clothes, my mind wandered.
It went back to that night. I thought about the way I felt when he carried me to my room. How hot his skin was against mine, how soft and gentle with me, even though I could tell he was struggling to be that way.
It was the first time in a long time that I actually felt relaxed.
If I wanted to lie to myself, I’d blame it on the alcohol, but deep down, I knew it didn’t have anything to do with the amount I had to drink, and it had everything to do with him.
He’d always had a way of relaxing me and amping me up at the same time…
Even back then. I knew I could trust him, and that helped calm me, but I was also excited to have his attention.
That hadn’t changed.
I remembered throwing my leg over him, my knee grazing against the hardness in his pants. My heart raced and pounded against my chest because it was in that moment that I realized what I was doing to him.
Did I turn him on, or was he just turned on by holding any woman against him? The moment my knee grazed him, his hot hand flew to my thigh, squeezing it like he was going to stop me. He didn’t do either. I fell asleep with his hand there.
My stomach tightened with excitement as I thought back on the night before.
My heart hammered away, and I became flushed with a sheen of sweat breaking out across my forehead.
I liked the way I felt with him, but I had no idea how to explore those feelings.
The tingling that was warming my body faded away, quickly replaced by something else—shame, confusion, disappointment.
What was wrong with me?
How could I even think those things about the man who was married to my sister?
A man who was many years older than me. Who was a total asshole most days, treated me like crap, and was clearly an alcoholic without the meetings.
I was a mess. I felt like an embarrassment to my family, letting them all down.
My phone chimed from inside my pocket, so I pulled it out and read the screen.
ROMAN: I’ll be home for dinner tonight.
One sentence, and my heart grew wings and took off flying out of my body. All negative thoughts were gone. I had forgotten all about the embarrassment I was feeling. All I could think of was seeing him again, wanting to explore the darkest parts of my desire, and wondering if he’d allow it.
Hours later, Roman, Sophia, and I were all gathered around the table with the dinner I had prepared in front of us.
Roman was quiet and refused to make eye contact with me.
Even Sophia could feel how tense things were with him in the room.
She kept looking at him and frowning like she was trying to figure it out.
Then she’d take a bite and look at me. I’d offer her a smile, and her face would smooth.
“How’s your chicken?” I asked Roman, watching him as he slowly picked at his food.
He nodded. “It’s good.” He lifted his glass. “I’m not much for chicken, but it’s good.” He took a sip and resumed eating.
“You know, you could let me know what it is you do like eating. I wouldn’t mind making things specifically for you,” I offered softly.
“Don’t worry about it. I never know if I’ll be home. Just make whatever Sophia likes. She’s what’s important.”
I didn’t like the cold shoulder he was giving me after the night we’d spent together.
It made me want to lash out by asking him exactly what Sophia liked, because I knew he didn’t know.
Doing that wouldn’t do anything but start an argument, though, so I bit the inside of my cheek and kept my thoughts to myself.
“Daddy is having dinner,” Sophia said, smiling at him.
He chuckled. “That’s right, princess.”
Sophia gasped, causing both Roman and me to look up at her. Her eyes were wide with excitement, and her brows were lifted. “It’s like I have a mommy and a daddy!”
It felt like the air had been sucked from the room in that instant.
Roman dropped his fork, and it clattered to his plate. He stood from his chair and grabbed his drink. He was gone in a flash, leaving the two of us alone.
Sophia’s eyes immediately filled with unshed tears.
“Daddy’s done?” she asked, watching the doorway he walked through.
“Daddy just had some work to finish, Soph. Why don’t we go and get some dessert? How about a hot fudge sundae?”
She nodded, her bottom lip stuck out. “With sprinkles?”
“With sprinkles and whipped cream,” I told her, standing from the table. I held my hand out for her, and she hopped out of her chair.
She ran over and took my hand, but I could sense the pain coming off of her, so I picked her up, hugged her, and carried her to the kitchen to get her the biggest hot fudge sundae she’d ever seen.