3. Double Losses

Luca

I woke up to the faint smell of cheap perfume, and the headache that pounded in my skull.

For a moment, I kept my eyes closed, clinging to the sleep that was already fading away. But something was off. This didn’t feel right. The sheets smelled different—like floral body spray instead of the soft lavender scent that Diane loved.

I groaned, squeezing my eyes as I tried to remember what had happened.

The club.

The vodka.

The noise of too many people, the music so loud that I couldn't hear my own thoughts, and that had been the whole point.

Then I felt the tickle of hair against my jaw.

I opened my eyes in a small slit, and a flash of blonde crossed my sight.

That's not Diane’s hair.

Her hair was black, silky, and smelled like coconut. This hair was blonde and had the faint chemical scent of overused dye. My chest tightened, and my fingers, which had been absentmindedly brushing her shoulder, froze.

And then she moaned.

I sat up quickly, my heart pounding in my chest as I turned to look at the woman beside me. Her blonde curls spilled across the pillow where Diane should have been, her red lipstick was smudged and her mascara streaked from what must’ve been a wild night.

Her bare shoulders were peeking out from under the sheets and when I moved, she stirred again.

She opened her eyes, and a lazy grin spread across her face.

Her voice was groggy, but teasing. “Mmm, morning, handsome,” she purred, stretching like a cat.

I didn't answer as regret and nausea filled my stomach, making me want to throw up.

She sat up slightly, holding the duvet loosely around her chest. Her blonde hair was messy and her eyeliner was smudged. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, still smiling. “You don't look happy to see me.”

“Who the hell are you?” I blurted, my voice hoarse and raw.

Her smile faded for a moment, then she laughed. “Seriously? You don’t remember?”

I shook my head as I ran my hand through my hair, my mouth as dry as sandpaper. “No. I don’t.”

She propped herself up on one elbow, the sheets slipping down to reveal her cleavage. “Well, let me refresh your memory. You brought me home from the club last night. Said something about needing to forget some girl named Diane.”

“Diane,” I whispered her name.

The name hit me like a punch to the gut. My stomach churned as flashbacks of last night rushed back in. I had gone to the club after breaking things off with Diane. One drink had turned into two, then three, then God knows how many. I barely remembered leaving the club, let alone bringing this woman back to my place.

“Yeah, Diane,” she rolled her eyes, her tone bitter. “You wouldn't shit up about her. You kept saying you wanted to forget her, but guess what? You didn't. You even called me her name when we were…” She trailed off, raising her arched eyebrows at me meaningfully.

I didn't want to have this woman in my bed or listen to another word, because I might throw up.

“Get out,” I said, my voice low but firm.

She blinked, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“I said get out.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking more amused than offended. “Oh, really? Just like that?”

“Yes. Just like that.” Not sparing her another glance, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, searching for my clothes in the mess on the floor.

She watched me with a smirk, then slid out of bed and began gathering her things, taking her time. “You know,” she said, pulling on her very short skirt, “I had a wonderful time with you, even though you kept calling me her name.” She said, her smirk widening as she zipped up her boots.

I felt sick. My hands were trembling as I reached for my wallet, pulled out some cash, and held it out to her. “Here. Just…take this and go.”

She let out a sharp laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Oh, honey, I don’t need your money.” She grabbed a lipstick from the floor, popped the cap off, and leaned over to scrawl something on my shirt. Her number, in bright red letters.

“If you ever want to have some real fun again, or forget Diane again, call me.” She winked, blew me a kiss, and sauntered out the door like she owned the place.

As soon as she was gone, I collapsed back onto the bed, burying my face in my hands.

“Idiot,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re a goddamn idiot, Luca.”

The room was silent except for the faint sound of the air conditioner, but it felt deafening. My chest ached with something far worse than the hangover. I had been trying to drown the guilt, but instead, I had made it worse. Now all I feel is emptiness.

I glanced at the bedside table, where a photo of Diane sat in its silver frame. Her smile in the picture was so bright and so full of life. Her eyes were full of love and warmth. My chest tightened as I picked up the photo, running my thumb over her face.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

I’d thought breaking up with her was the right thing to do. She didn't deserve any of this. She deserves someone better.

The words I had said to her at the restaurant echoed in my head. “You're a distraction.”

God, how stupid I was. How could I say that to Diane? She wasn't a distraction; she was the only thing that made sense in my life.

Yet, I had broken her heart to fulfill my desire.

I was still staring at Diane’s photo when my phone rang on the nightstand, jolting me out of my thoughts, and bringing me back to reality. I grabbed it from the nightstand, not bothering to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” I said, my voice thick.

“Mr. Belluci?” The voice on the other end was formal and cold. “This is Mark Thompson from Global Hospitality Ventures. I’m calling regarding your recent job offer.”

I sat up straighter as hope pierced through the haze of regret that clouded my mind. “Yes, of course. Is there an update?”

“Yes, there is,” he paused and I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. “I regret to inform you that the offer has been withdrawn. We’ve decided to move forward with another candidate who we feel is a better fit for the position.”

The words hit me like a slap across the face. “Wait—what? You’re…you’re withdrawing the offer?”

“Yes. We appreciate your interest in the role and wish you the best in your future endeavors.”

The line went dead before I could respond.

I stared at the phone in disbelief, the weight of the situation crashing down on me. 

No.

This can't be happening.

Not only had I thrown away my relationship with Diane, but now I’d lost the job that I’d sacrificed her for.