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The thought makes me bolt upright. Another big mistake that makes my head feel like it’s going to fall off, but when I take in my surroundings, I shove the pain away.
The pain can wait because I'm somewhere I've never been before.
The wide archway to my left, carved into a sandstone-colored wall, reveals the idyllic scene of soft waves rolling across the surface of the sea with jagged rock formations off in the distance.
My God. WhereamI?
I tear my eyes away from the screensaver-like view and look around the medieval-style room in one sweep, then down at the king-sized bed where I’m sitting.
It’s only at that moment I realize I’m completely naked and the only thing covering me is a flimsy white sheet.
Holy shit.
My jaw drops. Clearly, I’m no longer in New York, and I must have gotten up to all hell last night, but I can’t remember a damn thing.
I must have also drunk a whole brewery to achieve this epic fucked-up state of memory loss.
I pull the sheet up to cover my breasts and rummage through my mind for answers, trying to track back to the last thing I remember.
The wedding comes to my mind.
I got married. Was that yesterday? It feels like a long time ago.
I remember kissing Knight and what he said to me, then speaking with his mother, Jericho, and his grandparents.
It was actually a nice day until…
Knight and Chelle.
I remember that part and how hurt I was.
I remember grabbing the wine from the waiter and going outside to drink.
Then I remember nothing more.
Everything else is a blurred blog as if someone shoved a mass of gray into my mind.
And where am I now?
I look around the room again and take in the beauty. It’s huge, and the Baroque design makes it look like one of the paintings from my poetry books.
The furniture is wooden and ornate with carvings in the fixtures, and the walls are covered with blue and brass satin wallpaper. There’s a wrought iron chandelier hanging over my head and pewter-toned candlesticks by the window.
I slip off the bed, stepping onto the cool stone floor, and wrap my body with the sheet, then I look around for clothes. Even my wedding dress would do, but I don’t see anything anywhere.
I head to the door and walk through, stepping onto a landing with another archway revealing more of the sea.
Wherever I am is completely surrounded by the sea. I think back to what I heard about us supposedly honeymooning in some secret location, and I try to guess where I am. It’s a little hard because I thought that was some made-up story Knight told the press to add to the perfect image of us.
A scan of what I can see confirms that I’mdefinitelynot anywhere near New York.
Maybe I’m somewhere like Cape Cod, or we went down south to Wilmington. I’ve never been to either.
Cape Cod makes me think of the setting in TV shows likeDawson’s Creek, while Wilmington conjures all my favorite Nicholas Sparks films.
I walk down wide stone steps, holding my hands at my heart as if I’m trying to keep it from leaping out.
When I reach the bottom, I make my way into a spacious living room with white and gold furniture. There I find Knight in the furthest corner, standing in the frame of another archway.
