1101 Protector for the night
He woke up with a splitting headache, aching muscles, and a sore thumb. What did he expect as he smelled the alcohol on his breath? But wait! What happened to his thumb?
He remembered visiting his friend at the hospital. Then, he went to the bar across the street. Of course, he had drinks, too many for his limit. After that, he had a chat with the girl. He could not even remember her name.
“Ooohhh!” He groaned out loud. He had never had a hangover since he was back in college. He never did find a solution in a bottle.
But last night, he was not thinking. He just wanted to dull his senses.
However, he remembered the girl leaving to join her friends. Eventually, the bartender refused to give him more drinks.
How did he go home? He was home. Right?
Immediately, he scanned his surroundings and found himself in his living room, lying on his couch. That explained his aching muscles. Unfortunately, he did not have a comfortable sofa.
He was not dirt poor nor super rich. He had enough savings to live a comfortable life. But he did not see the point of wasting his hard-earned cash on material things. Besides, he barely stayed in his apartment anyway.
“Who was she again?” She questioned, trying to piece in the missing puzzle in his mind. Maybe if he remembered her name, he would remember the rest of his memory.
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But at least he got home in one piece. Then, he patted his pocket, feeling his wallet was still there. Then, he checked his wrist. His watch was still safely attached to his body, concluding that nobody had robbed him last night.
Still, he had to solve the mystery of his sore thumb with a plaster covering it. He could only guess the slight trace of blood on his shirt had come from his wound. But how did he get himself hurt?
He shook his head, trying to clear his head and get rid of his headache, but it was not working. He gradually stood up and stretched his muscles, hoping to relieve the tension. Then, he walked toward his kitchen sink to wash his face.
He hoped the splash of water would make him fully alert and remind him of the rest of his night. And a full glass of water would get rid of his headache. But, alas, it did not work.
“Damn!” He still could not remember. He finally grabbed his temples, massaging them. It seemed that his headache was not going away that easily.
Then, when he finally turned around, he noticed his house keys on the counter with a piece of paper underneath it. He did not remember putting them there. But he did not recall going home either.
Therefore, the mystery of what had happened to him last night continued as he walked closer to the counter. Was that a receipt from the bar? But who asked for that in a bar? Anyway, he grabbed it and held it in front of his eyes.
YOU WERE DRUNK, AND I FOUND YOU ON THE STREET OUTSIDE THE BAR, ALMOST PASSED OUT.
So, the paper was a note.
SORRY, BUT I LOOKED INTO YOUR WALLET FOR YOUR ADDRESS.
That explained why his wallet, which he usually placed in his left back pocket, was now on his front.
BY THE WAY, YOU SCRAPED YOUR THUMB ON THE WALL BY THE FRONT OF YOUR BUILDING WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY TRIPPED WHILE I WAS CARRYING YOU TO YOUR APARTMENT.
SORRY, BUT YOU WERE HEAVY.
I JUST CLEANED IT AND PUT A PLASTER ON IT. AND, OF COURSE, I LEFT A PAIN RELIEVER WITH YOUR KEYS. IT SHOULD HELP WITH THE HANGOVER. AND DRINK PLENTY OF FLUIDS.
His eyes darted at a pill that was beside his keys. He took it with the glass of water still in his hands.
ANYWAY, IT WAS NICE TO MEET YOU AGAIN. R
“R?” Who was R again?
The only person he was talking to was that girl. He vaguely remembered what they had discussed. But he recalled her face from bumping into her earlier.
She must have found him on the street and was kind enough to bring him home.
PS.
WE DID NOT SLEEP TOGETHER. SO DON’T WORRY.
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That was good to know.
He thanked her silently as he checked his clothing, which looked disarrayed but was still on his body. It would be terrible if he had slept with her and did not remember it. And worse, not even knowing her name.
“R?” He repeated, hoping to jog his memory for the complete name. She must have mentioned it in their conversation. But he was still drawing a blank.
AND NO NEED TO THANK ME EITHER. I WOULD HAVE HELPED A STRAY CAT IF I FOUND ONE.
Wow! Did he look like a stray cat? Maybe, but he stank like he just came from the alley trash.
He finally put down the note on the counter and strolled to his bathroom. He believed he badly needed a long shower. And looking at his reflection in the mirror, he looked like a mess.
No wonder she did not sleep with him. But that was great because he did not need more complications in his already intricate life. He still had to get over one heartbreak before entering another messy relationship.
Not that he equated sleeping with a woman to automatically ending up in a relationship. But he never randomly slept with just anyone without involving his heart.
Still, “Should I go and see her? At least thank her.” He asked himself as he stared at his reflection.
But she clearly said that there was no need for him to look for her. It sounded like she did not want to see him again. It might look like he was stalking her if he suddenly appeared at her workplace.
He guessed he could always thank her if he coincidentally crossed paths with her again. That was if he would recognize her again. He was lucky that someone like her found him on the street.
And not some stranger who might have taken advantage of his drunken state. It would seem someone was still looking after him. Was she sent to be his protector for the night?