I woke up in his bed, regretting everything. My head throbbed, and a cold fear settled in my stomach when I saw the gray ceiling. It wasn’t my ceiling. My ceiling is white.
This room smelled wrong, too, heavy with stale perfume and smoke. I turned slowly and saw Mark sleeping beside me, his back to me, those familiar brown curls on the pillow. We worked in the same building, but we barely knew each other. My dress sat crumpled on a chair.
My shoes were scattered on the floor, one near the door, one near the bed. Chaos. I am not a messy person. I tried to remember last night, but my memory was a fog.
I remembered the loud music, the flashing lights, laughing, and a sweet red drink that tasted like strawberries. Someone kept refilling my glass. “Have fun, Ariana,” they said. I had wanted to be free, to feel light like everyone else at the party.
Now I just felt broken. I slid out of bed, my legs shaky. The cold floor shocked my bare feet. I dressed quickly, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the zipper.
I didn’t look in the mirror. I couldn’t face what I might see. I tiptoed through the messy living room, grabbed my purse from the sofa, and unlocked the front door. I didn’t look back.
I just ran. Outside, the morning air was sharp and clean. A taxi sat at the corner, and I waved it down. The driver had kind eyes.
“Are you okay, miss? ” he asked. “Just tired,” I lied, leaning my head against the window. I watched the city pass by, my own reflection staring back at me.
Why did I drink so much? I kept asking myself the same question. The truth was simple and painful. I was lonely.
Everyone at the party had someone. Sarah was always with her boyfriend, and I was in a corner with my empty hands. Then Mark came over. He smiled and handed me a cup.
“You looked too serious, Ariana. Relax. ” So I drank. And it worked.
For a few hours, I felt included. Now, I just felt heavy. Regret is a heavy thing. It presses down on your heart.
I paid the driver and ran up to my apartment. I locked the door behind me and slid down to the floor. Then I cried. I had woken up in a man’s bed with no memory of saying yes.
The blank space in my mind was a black hole. Did I kiss him? Did I do something I would regret forever? I didn’t know.
That was the scariest part. Sarah called. She was worried when I didn’t show up for brunch. “You stayed at Mark’s place?
” she asked. “I woke up there, Sarah,” I said, my voice cracking. “I don’t remember the end of the night. ” She was quiet for a moment.
“Did he hurt you? ” she asked, her voice full of concern. “No, I don’t think so,” I said. “But I feel ashamed.
” She comforted me, told me we all make mistakes, that I was human. It helped a little, but the heavy feeling stayed. Then Mark texted me. “Hey, Ariana.
I woke up and you were gone. Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? ” I stared at the screen, my hands sweating.
I couldn’t answer. I wasn’t ready. Monday morning came too quickly. I wore my favorite blue blouse to feel strong, but I felt like I was carrying a secret.
I saw him by the elevator, and my heart stopped. He wore a gray suit and held a coffee cup. He looked relieved to see me. “Ariana,” he said, walking towards me.
“You disappeared. I was worried. ” I looked at the floor, apologizing for leaving. Then he said something I wasn’t expecting.
“I know you were drunk. I didn’t want you to go home alone, so I brought you to my place. We just slept. Nothing happened, Ariana.
”
I looked up, tears filling my eyes. A giant weight lifted off my chest. “I would never take advantage of you, Ariana,” he said firmly. “You weren’t yourself.
” He had made me water. He had been a gentleman. I was flooded with relief. I felt so foolish for being scared, but also so grateful.
I learned my lesson. I promised myself to be smarter, to respect my body and my limits. I started running in the mornings. I started reading again.
I told Sarah everything. “He’s a keeper,” she said. I’m not dating him. Not yet.
I’m taking time for myself. I want to be happy with who I am without a drink in my hand. A few weeks later, there was another office party. I was nervous.
“I’ll go, but I’m driving, so I can’t drink,” I told Sarah. Someone offered me a glass. “No, thanks, I have a soda,” I said. It was easy.
No one cared. I danced, I laughed, I talked to my boss. I remember every song, every joke. I drove home safely and fell asleep with a smile.
The next morning, I woke up without a headache, without regret. That was freedom. I learned that I am enough just as I am. Sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself.
That night at Mark’s place was my wake-up call. It taught me to value my life. One day, I saw Mark in the breakroom making tea. “You look happy,” he said.
“I am,” I said. “I feel like myself again. ” “That’s good,” he said. “The real Ariana is the best version.
”
And I believed him.
