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It was a cruel and merciless awakening. My head throbbed like a relentless jackhammer, and my stomach churned with a queasiness that threatened to consume me. It was the kind of hangover that felt like the universe's twisted way of punishing me for every questionable decision I'd ever made.
As I gingerly peeled open one eye, the harsh light streaming in through the curtains assaulted my senses like a thousand fiery daggers. My surroundings blurred and spun as I tried to piece together the events of the previous night. I was pretty sure I was in Ari’s house…in his bed. How exactly had we ended up here? And why did my body feel like it had been put through a blender?
With a groan that came from the depths of my tortured soul, I slowly sat up, panic creeping in as I realized I was completely naked. Please tell me I hadn’t slept with him…that was the opposite message I needed to send.
I remembered wanting to forget, and drinking and having fun. We’d been dancing and…I’d been convinced I could drink away having to break up with him.
But I couldn’t remember anything after that…not how we'd gotten home, not what we'd done, nothing.
The queasiness in my stomach escalated, and I knew I had mere seconds before I'd be introducing the contents of my stomach to the toilet. I stumbled out of bed and raced to the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet just in time.
As I heaved and gagged, a glimmer of something caught my bloodshot eye. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and blinked at the sight that greeted me: a ring, perched snugly on my finger, with a diamond so enormous it could have lit up the Eiffel Tower.
I screamed.
The ring sparkled mockingly in response, as if it were the crown jewel in some cosmic joke. I stared at it in sheer disbelief, my mind racing to make sense of this bizarre twist in an already confusing morning. The diamond glinted with an almost malevolent glee, as if it were silently taunting me with its opulence.
I couldn't recall ANYTHING.
I just hoped this ring had somehow materialized out of thin air, because any other option was not okay.
I panic-brushed my teeth, and dragged myself out of the bathroom, throwing on some clothes so I could figure out what the hell had happened last night. Once I had on a pair of sweats, I made my way to the kitchen. The tantalizing aroma of food and the sound of Taylor Swift's "Paper Rings" filled the air, creating a bizarre contrast to the pounding headache that had decided to take up residence in my skull.
The song seemed oddly prophetic, but no, I wasn’t going there.
Ari was dancing around as he cooked something on the stove, wearing an apron that read "I Love Beaver" in bold letters. My bleary eyes widened in disbelief at the scene.Hesure didn’t look hungover.
He heard me approaching, and his face lit up with a suspiciously mischievous grin.
“There you are, sunshine. I was about to come wake you up for breakfast.”
He must have seen my face turning green at the mention of food, because he grabbed a glass on the counter next to him, filled to the brim with a brown sludge looking concoction, and slid it my way with an air of triumph.
My eyes darted to the drink, uncertain whether it was my salvation or the final nail in my hungover coffin.
"Here you go," he chimed in a voice that was far too cheerful for the world's current state of existence. "A tried and true Lincoln and Ari hangover cure."
I didn’t have anything to lose, so I lifted the glass to my lips…
"Drink up, wifey."
I froze in place, the cup at my lips. What had he just said? That was just him being Ari…right?
Ari had a huge grin on his face as he stared at me.
“Wifey, haha,” I muttered as I threw back the disgusting drink. It tasted like gasoline as I guzzled it—or what I imagined gasoline tasted like.
“What’s so funny? Do you not like the ring?” he asked innocently. “You’re right, I should have gone bigger.”
This time I choked on the drink, the glass slipping out of my hand and crashing to the floor. Glass and brown liquid went everywhere as I stared at Ari in wide-eyed disbelief.
“What the fuck are you talking about, Ari?” I shrieked, the sound hurting my own ears.
He covered the plate of waffles in front of him with his hands. “Language, Blake. You’ll hurt the waffles’ feelings!”
“Ari, tell me what you’re talking about, right now!”
