A Christmas for Carol by Emily Sharp

Author:Emily Sharp [Sharp, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B077HVJVTM
Published: 2017-11-23T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I woke up with a bit of a hangover, the slight pounding in my head echoing. Opening my eyes, I looked around the room and then realized I was not in my own bed. The memories came back to me from the night before. I had gotten drunk and then came back here. I thought about it for a moment, then remembered Carol helping me into bed. But I also remembered asking her to join me. And then her rejection.

Shame filled me and my teeth ground together as I headed to the bathroom. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk. A few minutes later as I washed my face, I recalled her asking me about Jackie. But her rejection of me had my face burning. Who was she to reject me?

Heading out to the living room, she stood there a smile on her face and a cup in her hand.

“One sugar and a little milk, just like you prefer,” she said, handing me the mug. I took it in my hands, the hot mug feeling good on my cold hands.

“Thank you,” I said, working my way to the couch. Carol went to the kitchen and joined me a minute later, a cup of coffee in her hand.

“You slept hard,” she said, then looked at her phone. “It’s almost noon.”

“Is that not allowed?” I said a little harsh, feeling embarrassed.

“You can sleep in all day, I don’t care,” she said, then took a drink from her mug.

“Listen, last night, I may have spoken out of turn when I was drunk. Perhaps rambled about some random things,” I said.

“It’s OK. I didn’t mind. It was good hearing you talk about your friend,” she said.

“Well, all the same, I should not have spoken about her,” I said, my head starting to pound.

“I really didn’t mind,” she said, her hand coming to my leg.

My body tensed up and I pursed my lips, which I hid behind taking a sip of my coffee.

“Look, I get you might be hungover, but did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?” she said, setting her mug down.

“Yes, I am a little upset. I don’t think it’s wise to question someone when they are under the influence,” I said, my voice rising.

“I wasn’t questioning you, as a matter of fact…” she started to say.

I was in no mood to argue and needed to get home. I had opened up to her last night and realized that was a mistake. It was leading down a path that could only end up like it did with Jackie.

“I need to get home. I have work to do,” I said, setting my mug down and standing up.

“Wait, you can’t just walk out,” she said, looking up at me.

“Please, don’t tell me what to do. And next time, don’t be so high and mighty about rejecting me,” I said, grabbing my purse and taking my keys out.

“Rejecting you? What about? Going to bed with you?” she said, her eyebrow raised up.

I ignored her and headed outside.

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