Mistake

Matthew

I open my eyes, squinting against the harsh morning light that streamed through the gaps in the curtains.

My head is throbbing, a dull, persistent ache that seems to radiate from behind my eyes. My mouth is dry, and my tongue feels like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth.

Ugh…I drank way too much last night. Luckily, the next conference wasn't until evening.

As I slowly regained consciousness, I suddenly feel a warm weight pressed against me, a soft, feminine form molded to my body. Confused, I turn my head, my gaze falling on a mass of blonde hair splayed across my chest.

My heart stops.

Sarah.

She is naked, her bare skin soft and smooth against my own. Her leg is draped over mine, her breasts pressed against my arm. She looks peaceful in sleep, her face relaxed, her lips slightly parted.

But I feel anything but peaceful.

No….

Panic claws at my throat as my mind races, trying to piece together the events of last night. I remember drinking a lot. I remember Sarah helping me to my room, her arm around my waist, supporting his weight. But after that…it was a blur of disjointed images and sensations.

Did we…?

I look around the room, taking in the clothes scattered haphazardly on the floor. My shirt, her jeans, her bra…

Oh God.

We did.

My stomach churns, bile rising in my throat.

I had cheated on Amanda. I had gotten drunk and slept with Sarah. Just as Amanda suspected I would.

How could I let this happen? How could I betray Amanda like this?

I need to get out of here. I need to…

Sarah stirs, her eyes fluttering open. She blinks up at me, and a slow, satisfied smile spreads across her face.

"Good morning," she purrs, stretching languidly against him.

I swallow hard, my mouth going dry. "Sarah, what…what happened last night?"

She raises an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. "You don't remember? We had quite the time."

I shake my head, my heart pounding. "No, I…I don't remember. I was so drunk, I…"

Sarah props herself up on one elbow, the sheet slipping down to reveal the upper swells of her breasts.

I look away.

"Well, let me refresh your memory," she says, her voice low and seductive. "You couldn't keep your hands off me. You said you wanted me, that you needed me. And I was more than happy to oblige."

I feel more sick than I thought possible. "That can't be true. Please tell me it's not true."

Sarah's expression darkens. "Are you calling me a liar?" she asks, looking hurt.

"Sarah…this isn't right. I am with Amanda. I can't do this. I should've never allowed this to happen," I say.

"Well, we don't have to tell anyone," she says.

"Sarah, we can't just pretend it didn't happen," I say.

Sarah shifts. "So you regret it?" she asks.

I wince, guilt gnawing at me even more. "Of course I regret it! I was drunk, and I wasn't thinking straight. That's no excuse, but I don't want to lose what I have with Amanda over a mistake."

She looks away, and for a moment, there's silence between us, broken only by the sound of my frantic heart in my chest.

Sarah sits up slowly, the sheet falling around her waist as she watches me. "Like I said, this can stay between us. I am good at keeping secrets."

Why is she being so casual about this?

I can't understand how she can be so nonchalant about something that feels like a betrayal—not just to Amanda, but to myself.

"Sarah, this isn't just a secret. This is… this is a mistake that could ruin everything. It's not something we can just sweep under the rug," I say.

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me. "You're acting like we've committed a crime. You were drunk. I was drunk. No harm done, right?" She shrugs as if brushing it off like it's no big deal.

I can feel my heart pounding harder, frustration building in my chest. "No harm done?" I repeat, incredulous. "I've got a girlfriend, Sarah. I just—I just slept with you—and now I'm standing here trying to figure out how to fix this mess before it completely falls apart."

"Look, I get it. You've got a girlfriend, and now you feel guilty. But you wanted this, too. Don't act like you were a victim here," Sarah says.

I bite back a retort, my throat tightening. She's not wrong, is she?

"I don't want this," I say, my voice lower now, softer. "I've messed up. But I know what I need to do. I need to talk to Amanda. I need to make things right."

Sarah stays quiet for a moment, her eyes holding mine. She finally exhales a slow breath.

"Okay, then," she says. "Tell her. Why don't you call her and tell her about us?"

No, I can't do that. Amanda deserves to know in person. I can't just tell her over the phone.

"I'm not telling her over the phone," I say, shaking my head. "I need to see her, to talk to her in person. This is…this is too big to just drop in a text or call."

Sarah doesn't say anything at first.

"You're making this harder than it needs to be," she finally mutters.

"I can't live with that, Sarah," I say, my voice firm. "I can't lie to her, not after what I've done. It's not just about me anymore. It's about Amanda, too. She deserves the truth."

Sarah falls silent again, her expression darkening.

"It's nothing against you, Sarah," I tell her, thinking I am being too harsh on her.

"Yes, I know," she says quietly. "I will go back to my room now."

I watch her leave and sigh.

The room feels suffocating, the walls closing in as I replay the events in my mind, trying to understand how it all went so wrong.

I loved Amanda—truly, deeply. How could I have done this to her? How could I have been so weak?

I have to tell Amanda the truth. I can't live with myself if I don't. But how? How do I explain this to her without destroying everything?

But that's something I need to worry about after getting home. Right now, all I can do is get through the last day of this trip.