Elle
The next morning, I wanted to die. Not literally. But close enough.
"Fuck," I groaned, rolling over to bury my face in the pillow. Memories from last night crashed through my hangover – the closet, the clothes, Adrian's hands on my waist...
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, willing the memories of last night to disappear.
They didn’t.
Nope. Every single humiliating detail was still burned into my brain.
"Oh god." I shot up, then immediately regretted it as my head spun.
I'd yelled at him, got in his face like some drunk, jealous girlfriend demanding answers. In his own house. About his secret designer clothes closet.
Perfect. Just perfect.
I groaned, dragging a pillow over my face.
I bet he regretted everything.
Regretted marrying me. Regretted letting me into his house. Hell, maybe regretted even looking at me that first night.
"He must think I'm insane." I stumbled to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection. "Completely, totally insane."
I looked exactly like what I was – a
