Four.
“Nikki.”
Three.
“Antonio.”
Two.
“Fuck.”
One.
And as the clock struck midnight, it marked a new year and the beginning of my heartbreak.
11
Antonio
SEVEN YEARS AGO – NEW YEAR’S EVE
Miami
I couldn’t sleep last night.
I went through our time together again and again, trying to spot what I missed. What warning signs were overlooked. I couldn’t find one. I take consent very seriously, so the thought that I could’ve possibly made out with a woman while she wasn’t conscious of her actions sent me into a tailspin.
I’m trying not to think about the worst-case scenario, but my brain can’t help it. Once bitten, twice shy and all that.
I need to stop running worst-case scenarios and instead have an important conversation this morning.
I arrive at Amelia’s apartment with a box of donuts that my cousin Vanessa quickly takes off my hands.
It’s a small apartment, currently littered with a couple of air mattresses in the living room to accommodate my family.
The ladies are still in various states of waking, but they all look like they’ve seen better mornings. Vanessa is passing around a bottle of ibuprofen, and Amelia is groggily filling up glasses of water. I’m dreading discovering what state Nicolette is in. If it’s anything like the women before me, I’m going to be shattered.
I’m still holding on to a sliver of hope that what we shared was real. That she felt it just as strongly as I did.
I stand by the breakfast nook so I’m not in the way, and that’s when I see her.
She’s coming in through the back patio, wearing workout leggings and a sports bra. Her skin glistens with sweat as she brushes her hair back and away from her eyes.
Did she just come back from a run? A workout? If so, that must mean she was telling the truth. No way could she have been as drunk as the other women and bounce back that quickly.
She lifts a water bottle to her lips but freezes when she sees me. I make my way over to her, and she nods toward the back patio door.
Once outside, I take her in. She’s just as beautiful as she was last night. I actually think this version might be my favorite: rosy cheeks and sweat clinging to her clothes.
But then I notice her eyes. Her big, beautiful blue eyes. Rimmed red with a hint of purple below them. As if she, too, didn’t sleep last night.
Her body is rigid, but her eyes plead with me. How has this woman already put me through the wringer? I haven’t even known her for twelve hours.
I raise my hand to her cheek, but she stops me by gently holding my wrist. She offers me a forced smile. “Hey, Tony!” she says an octave too high to sound natural. “Look, I just wanted to apologize for last night.”
Huh?
She slowly lowers my hand, then releases it. “Yeah. You see, the girls and I got a little wild last night, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed myself or did something silly with you.”
