The next morning I sat outside on the balcony, wrapped in my black soft bathrobe. I lit my third cigarette since I woke up an hour ago.
[i]This is really not good.[/i]
I turned around to see Carey standing there in his boxers and his undershirt, blinking sleep away.
“Hey.” I said, turning back around and taking a drag.
He glanced at my ash tray as he sat. “How long have you been up?”
“An hour or so.”
“Sarah, look – “
“Don’t say it.” I said.
“Don’t say what?”
“You want to say sorry. You feel like you took advantage of me being drunk. You were drunk. It was a mistake. I get it, okay? So spare me the bullshit and just go. We have a plane to catch soon.”
He stared at me and I stood up. “What? No – “
“Look, it’s okay. Really.” I said. “It’s just I don’t have time for bullshit. I have a lot of things to do before I get on that plane so I’ll see you later.”
I ground my cigarette out and went inside, promptly locking myself in the bathroom. Then he pounded on the door.
“Sarah, open up. I want to talk to you.”
I responded by turning on the shower.
“For fuck’s sake, I know you can hear me. It wasn’t like that at all, okay?”
I closed my eyes and leant against the wall.
“I wanted it, I really did. And I want to do this again. Not just the sex but the nice dinner and the taking care of you and staying with you all night.”
[i]he probably has brain damage. He’s a hockey player, after all.[/i]
“Come on, Sarah.”
I slipped off my robe and stepped into the shower.
“Please, Sarah. I want you and I don’t understand why.”
I slid down and sat under the pounding water. After a few minutes, I heard the room door open and then shut.