[01] Claire's night of mistakes

CLAIRE

I was half-asleep when I felt the urge to pee, so I stretched on the bed before getting up. But suddenly, I felt something brush against me—and it moved. Then, I felt a warm hand wrap around my waist.

My mind snapped awake, and I turned to look beside me, but I winced as a sharp pain shot through my head. What happened? I tried to recall the events until everything came rushing back.

"Oh my God!"

I whispered under my breath and immediately glanced beside me. There he was—the guy I saw yesterday, shirtless, just like me.

I fell back onto the bed, my heart pounding wildly. What do I do?! I just had a one-night stand with a stranger! My God, Claire, what have you done?!

I took a deep breath to calm myself before gathering the courage to slowly remove his arm from my waist. I was careful, and thankfully, I succeeded. He stirred slightly, but I quickly slipped away, replacing my spot with a pillow.

Then, I felt a dull ache between my thighs. My God! I was a virgin until last night—now I’m not! I wanted to cry, but what could I do? It already happened.

I grabbed my clothes and rushed to the bathroom to pee. Afterward, I dressed quickly, afraid he might wake up. Then, I peeked outside the room, confused when I didn’t see any other doors nearby.

Wait… is this a VIP room? Does that mean he’s rich?

I facepalmed myself. Of course! He’s Dylan’s friend—the best man! And Dylan’s a well-known young businessman, so his friends must be loaded too!

---

After the church ceremony, we headed straight to the reception. Bea and Dylan got married in Batangas, her hometown, where we used to hang out often. The reception was held at their beachfront hotel.

Bea’s family was wealthy, with hotels and condominiums worldwide. She and her siblings managed the business together.

Right now, I was by the beach, avoiding the crowd. The sun was setting, and I planned to join the celebration later at night. I needed a drink—to celebrate my best friend’s wedding and to toast to my own solitude.

If you’re wondering about my job—I don’t have one yet. Bea and I just graduated last year. I wanted to study again to become a professional designer. I loved designing dresses.

Once the sun disappeared, I decided to head to my room. Bea had given me my own suite here as a graduation gift. I told her it wasn’t necessary, but she insisted—said I needed a proper place to stay whenever I visited.

I changed into a long black dress that reached my feet. I’m wearing black to a wedding? I laughed to myself. Bea knew I loved black—almost everything I owned was black. She’d even joke that I looked like a witch sometimes.

I took the elevator down from the eighth floor. My unit was huge—definitely expensive—but I’d take care of it just like I took care of her.

The reception was packed. Dylan came from a prominent business family, and at his young age, he already managed several ventures. Some guests who missed the ceremony had arrived, making the crowd even bigger.

I headed straight to the bar counter—Bea knew she’d find me here.

"Give me a glass of tequila, please."

I grinned at the bartender, who obliged immediately. I downed it in one go, making him wince. I knew it was strong, but who cared? The staff here knew me—Bea always introduced me as one of the "bosses."

I ordered more until the world started spinning.

"Claire!"

I turned and saw Bea smiling at me, arm-in-arm with Dylan.

"Hey! The newlyweds are here!" I cheered.

"You’re drunk, Claire!" Bea frowned.

"No, I’m not! I’m celebrating!" I argued, asking the bartender to back me up.

"Ma’am, she’s had five," he said, making Bea sigh.

"Love, I think Claire needs to rest," Dylan suggested.

"Come on, Claire, I’ll take you to your room," Bea said, grabbing my arm, but I pulled away.

"No! We need to celebrate! This is your wedding! My best friend’s wedding! My sister’s wedding!"

I took another shot. Bea fell silent at my words. I raised my glass again.

"To both of you! I’m so happy for you! But Bea… I’m also sad because now I’ll be alone. But it’s okay! Because I want you to be happy!"

I downed the drink and slammed the glass down. When I faced Bea again, she was crying.

"Why are you crying? Didn’t I tell you to enjoy your day?" I stumbled toward her, steadying myself.

I pinched her cheeks into a smile. "There! Smile, Bea. I’m happy for you. Be happy, okay?"

I hugged her tightly, and soon, we were both sobbing.

"C-Claire..."

We cried for what felt like three minutes before I pulled away.

"Enough tears! Our makeup’s ruined!" I laughed, wiping my face before turning to Dylan.

"Hey, Dylan! If you ever make my best friend cry, you’ll have to deal with me, got it?!"

"Don’t worry, Claire. I’ll take care of her. I’ll never make her cry," he promised.

I smiled and nodded. "Alright, I’ll leave you two now. I’m drunk—enjoy your night, newlyweds!"

I staggered away, not heading upstairs just yet. Instead, I went to the beach and collapsed onto the sand, crying into my knees.

I’m happy for Bea—really. But the loneliness hurts more.

I knew she’d always be there, but things were different now. She had a husband. I couldn’t just barge into their lives anymore.

I cried until I felt numb.

"Why are you crying?"

A voice startled me. I turned but couldn’t see anyone—it was too dark.

"W-Who’s there?"

"You’re drunk."

I laughed. "No—I just had a few drinks." Should I run? What if he’s dangerous? Stupid Claire, this is why you shouldn’t drink!

"Let’s go. I’ll take you to your room."

I looked at him again. He seemed nice—maybe I was overreacting.

"Sure, please. I am drunk."

He offered his hand, and I took it, but my legs gave out, and we both tumbled down. I landed on top of him, and in the dim light, I finally saw his face.

It was the guy from earlier—Dylan’s best man!

"You’re handsome," I slurred, grinning.

He shook his head. "Get up now, woman."

I didn’t move. The world spun, and I rested my head on his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat.

"W-Why is your heart beating so fast?"

"G-Get up..." He sounded strained. Was I that heavy?

When the dizziness faded, I lifted my head and stared at his lips.

I don’t know what came over me, but I leaned in and kissed him. What started as a simple kiss deepened as he cupped my head, pulling me closer.

I didn’t resist—it felt too good.

Somehow, we ended up on a soft bed, our clothes discarded, our bodies tangled together in heat.

---

I’M IN BIG TROUBLE!

Now I remember everything from last night. What if he brags about this to his rich friends? Ugh, Claire, you idiot! You just became another notch on some wealthy guy’s belt!

Furious, I stormed into the elevator, ignoring the soreness between my thighs. Once inside my room, I leaned against the door and tugged my hair in frustration.

"Stupid, Claire! You gave your virginity to some rich guy who’s probably had dozens of women! And you made the first move!"

I flopped onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. What if he hunts me down? What if I get pregnant?!

"Oh my God!"

I shot up in panic. My period just ended—sht! Did he even… Ugh, I was too drunk to remember!

I slumped onto the carpeted floor, pulling my hair again. I need a plan! If I am pregnant, I’ll keep the baby—it’s my fault. But I’ll never tell him. I won’t let my child be treated like some rich man’s mistake.

Wait, why am I assuming I’m pregnant?! It’s my ovulation week!

I needed to delete the CCTV footage. I wore a fitted black dress last night—I’d erase any trace of me.

Just as I stood up, something caught my eye.

"What’s this? A note?"

I picked up the letter on the side table.

"Dear Claire,

I know you’ll read this. Meet me at the breakfast area—we need to talk. We won’t leave the country until I speak with you. I’m so sorry, Claire. I love you.

Love, Bea"

My eyes widened. Bea hasn’t left?! They were supposed to fly to Paris last night for their honeymoon! Why is she apologizing? What does she want to talk about?

"Oh my God!"

I covered my mouth. Did I say too much last night? I remembered now—before ending up in that guy’s arms, I told Bea I was lonely. Ugh, Claire, you emotional drunk!

I quickly changed clothes (no dresses—what if that guy wakes up and sees me?) and headed out. But first—the CCTV room.

"Kuya," I called the guard, who immediately stood at attention.

"Ms. Claire! It’s you!"

"Can you ask a housekeeper to clean my room? I’ll wait here—I got drunk last night and made a mess."

He chuckled and agreed. Once he left, I tampered with the system. Thankfully, I was a quick learner.

"Deleted."

I smirked, dusting off my hands. Then, I noticed a separate CCTV feed—the VIP room. Sht! Did the guard see me leave?

My eyes then landed on the breakfast area. Bea’s still here! With Dylan! How long has she been waiting?!

"Ms. Claire, it’s done," the guard returned.

"Kuya, has Bea been there long?"

"Since the breakfast area opened, ma’am."

I winced. She must be worried sick because of what I said last night! Did she postpone her honeymoon?!

"Thanks, Kuya."

I rushed out, heading straight to the breakfast area.