The sun piercing tiny slices through the drapes is worse than having salt poured in my eyes. The nausea hits as I try to sit up and my mouth waters crazily. My cell is by the bed and I realize it’s been switched off. I never switch it off! I don’t even know what time it is; I could have missed a multitude of calls.
I swallow down the bile and reach for the glass beside my bed, lukewarm water will have to do. I know I should remember last night, but after my third drink I don’t remember much else. I don’t do hard liquor, so it’s no surprise.
I’m a total lightweight.
I know at one point Jake came back. I think.
Maybe.
I have strange images of him leaning over me with his tie hanging free; I’m not even sure if it was a dream or a memory from another time.