Clara woke to bright sunlight hitting her face. She blinked hard, her head heavy, her throat dry. For a second, she didn't know where she was until the faint scent of last night's cologne reminded her of the tall handsome stranger.
She turned her head.
The man from the bar lay beside her, sheets tangled low around his waist, bare skin catching the light. One arm was stretched across the mattress, palm open as if he had been holding her there in the night. The faint scent of his cologne still clung to the air, and to her.
Her dress from the night before was hung over a chair, and it was wrinkled. She didn't need to look in a mirror to know her hair was a mess.
For a moment, she just stared at the ceiling, letting the reality of it sink in.
And then, a memory came rushing in.
Not of him. Of a different man. From before.
Nine years ago.
She was seventeen, and bold enough to think that actions have no consequences. She kissed him anyway, wanted him anyway, and gave herself to him anyway.
The next morning, the sun was cruel, hitting hard as if to remind her she shouldn't have been there. So, She put on her clothes, heart pounding, and scribbled the words she thought would save them both:
Sorry, last night was a mistake.
Then she left before she could see him read it. Before she could change her mind.
That night gave her something precious, but it was something she could never keep. One careless mistake took more than she was ready to lose.
Her foster mom; realistic, kind, and loving, had encouraged her all through. Ultimately, she made a hard choice, or a choice was made for her. Otherwise, maybe, she wouldn't have set foot in a law school.
She pulled herself back to the present, shoving the memory into the locked box where it belonged.
On the nightstand, a hotel notepad sat next to a pen. Her hand moved before she could stop it, the words almost identical to the ones from that morning years ago.
Sorry for last night. I was drunk.
She left the note on his side of the bed, gathered her clothes, and dressed in silence.
By the time he woke, she would be gone. Just like it was with the guy from nine years ago.