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How do I know all this? I groan out loud. I’m so confused.
How did I end up here? I must be dreaming still. Surely, I must be.
As my mind races to find an explanation, I lean over the sink towards the mirror, noticing how dark and purple my eyes are. They’re puffy, and my lips are swollen, but other than that, I look beautiful. I scan my body through a very expensive silk cream negligee, running my hands over the contours before reaching back up and covering my big breasts—breasts that aren’t real.
“Holy cannoli!” If I am dreaming—which I must be—it’s a really vivid dream. I start to stumble around before eventually pacing the room up and down, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do, and how I got here. I stop dead, looking at my reflection in the mirror once more. My hands rise up, touching my face, feeling the soft outline of my own skin—and yet, it’s not my skin.
It’s Kendra Banks’s.
Hysterics start next. I throw my head back laughing and before I realize it, I can’t stop.
How am I here?
What happened?
I remember meeting Eli Prescott, but I can’t remember when and how. I also remember attending some sort of party… was it a birthday party? I grip my eyes shut, covering my hand over my face, groaning. Confusion fills me. It’s like I’m gaining the tip of an answer that I can’t quite reach yet. This can’t be real. I can’t be real.
I stare at my reflection again, the answer staring back at me plain as day. “What kind of wizardry is this?!”
Racing to find a phone in the bedroom, I manage to find one, but when I scroll through the list of thousands of names—none of whom I know—I realize that of course I won’t have any of my friends on there. At least names of friends that will jolt some sort of memory. “This is Kendra Banks’s phone, numb-nuts!” I laugh at my own joke, but not one thing about my situation is funny. How the hell did I get here? What has happened to the real me? So many questions, but questions I’m not sure I want to know the answers to. What if I were dead? What if I go round to my mother’s house and find her there grieving over a lost daughter—a daughter that’s standing right here inside somebody else’s body.
Dread like no other washes over me when realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Who is my real mother? Do I have a father? Again, the answer is there on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t quite reach it.
Slumping on the bed, the weight of the world suddenly crashes down on me. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my husband hates me.
“My husband hates me!”
Oh jeez, I have a husband, and not only that, he’s Eli Prescott!
All this time I saw Eli and Kendra together in the newspapers and on TV, I always envied their close relationship. They would smile, holding hands, laughing and joking together—sharing kisses that made men jealous and women swoon. Because let’s face it: Kendra Banks is one of the most beautiful women in the world. With silky blonde hair that flows down the curve of her perfect back, big, bright green eyes, and legs that go on for miles, what man wouldn’t dream of being with her for one night? Hell, even an hour!
How on earth do I know all this?
Wondering what time it is, I check the clock on the nightstand only to be shocked at what I find. It’s already after four, and Eli said he would be back by five. I desperately want to find someone who really knows me, but I haven’t got time. Besides, I wouldn’t even know where to start.
“Dammit!” I scream, knowing that I have to get up. If Eli comes back and finds me still undressed like I’ve just gotten out of bed, what will he think of me? I have never in my life slept to this time of day before.
Knowing that I have to treat this headache first, I go scrambling around the room trying to find some tablets. When I can’t find any, it dawns on me that I haven’t tried the nightstand drawer. Knowing I’m a lush who wakes up with hangovers, that’s the first place I would store them.
Sure enough, when I open the drawer, I find a variety of pills floating in there. I dig some out—all have names I do not understand, only one makes sense and that’s extra strong aspirin. Just what I need for this thumping headache. Maybe once it clears, I will be able to think properly. Maybe… just maybe, I will remember who I really am.
Popping two tablets out from the packet, I race to the bathroom and quickly pour myself a glass of water. When I drink them down, I sigh, closing my eyes afterwards. I then proceed to have a long shower, which already starts to help my headache. As I’m drying off, I brush my teeth before trying to find some makeup. I have to Google Kendra’s name to see what she normally wears on her eyes before spending a good twenty minutes on that, and then the next five applying blush and lipstick. When I look at the clock again, I only have fifteen minutes until Eli gets back. With not a moment to lose, I open my wardrobe and marvel at what I find. Dresses upon dresses, all stunning, some white, some black, some red, staring back at me. They all look super expensive—of course they would be. This is Kendra Banks, famous model and wife to Eli Prescott here. Having expensive clothes is a must.
One by one I slide the hangers aside, trying to see which dress I could possibly wear for a movie opening. I quickly discard the cocktail dresses and instead opt for a simple but elegant figure-hugging black dress which comes to just above my knees. I put it on, noticing just how slim I am compared to how I… really look? This is all too surreal to me. I’m in a body that I could only dream of having. I look simply flawless. But then again, she has the money to look flawless.
Once I have the dress on, I start to do my hair, and I’ve only just finished putting everything away when I hear a knock coming from another door that’s on the other side of the bed. It must be a communal door. I rush towards it opening it to find Eli standing in the doorway, taking my breath away.
Wearing a black suit with white shirt and red tie, his hair slicked back pristinely, he looks like every woman’s dream of what their perfect man would be. Reluctantly, I take my eyes off him briefly to stare behind him. Sure enough, he has his own room—which means they don’t seem to sleep together. I frown.
How odd.
“You look beautiful,” Eli states, pulling me from my daze. I glance back at him, noting his soft smile. “Are you feeling better?”
I nod my head. “Much. Thank you for asking.” My heart warms at his words, but just as soon as it does, Eli’s soft expression turns into a deep-seated, extremely sad frown.
“Are you ready? We have a car waiting for us outside.”
My heart pangs at the melancholy look on his face. Did I do that to him?
I stare for a moment, but then he offers me his arm, snapping me out of my trance. “Yes, I’m ready,” I state, grabbing my handbag from the nightstand before taking his arm.
Butterflies start to flurry in my stomach as we head for his door. Eli leans forward to open it, but before he does, he says, “Please don’t drink too much tonight.” My heart sinks. He won’t even look at me. After what I’ve felt like all day, the last thing on my mind right now is drink. Does she do this every night?
I want to shout at him that this isn’t me, this isn’t who I am, but I know it would be madness to tell him this now. He’d think I’m a loony and have me committed. So instead, I smile—even though he’s still not looking at me—and I say, “Of course, Eli. In fact, I won’t drink at all. This is your night.”
He pauses, gazing back at me with a curious frown on his face. I don’t know what he was expecting me to say, but it obviously wasn’t that. I offer him a reassuring smile, which makes his shoulders less rigid as he exhales. “Thank you,” he responds, pulling the door open.
Momentarily, I’m stunned that he should even be asking this of his wife. Surely Kendra supports him? Surely they love each other and care deeply for one another. But standing next to me right now is a broken man who seems to be accepting the life he has rather than living it.
Despondency surrounds me, but before I can even process that thought I realize we have some eyes staring at us as we make our way down the hall. I smile, telling myself that this isn’t about me right now. Eli needs the support of his wife, and I’m going to damn well make sure he gets it tonight.
