Alex~ My mouth tastes like bad decisions and vodka-laced regret. I wake up groggy, my head pounding like a broken drum set after a rock concert. The room is dim, sun barely sneaking through the window blinds. My throat feels like sandpaper, and the only movement I can muster is a groan as I roll over—and instantly regret it. Every part of my body aches. I blink hard, trying to place myself in the room. I’m in bed, my bed, thankfully, but still wearing only my boxers. My jeans are tossed carelessly across the floor, belt twisted. My shirt is nowhere in sight. Great. I sit up, head still spinning, and that’s when I hear it. A voice. Seth’s voice. It’s low and unusually soft. Not the usual cocky or loud-mouthed tone he uses when mocking me or trying to make everyone in the room aware of his existence. This voice is careful. Vulnerable. I know I shouldn’t be listening, but I stay frozen. “I don’t care what the doctors say, Ma. You should’ve called me earlier,”
Magbasa pa