That One Night Novels & Stories

one night - I started but was really hesitant and tears were not stopping from my eyes. "One.....one ni.....nigh....night - she said weakly. And I realized she was listening to my story attentively. "One night just one night changed that boy's life - I said and it was becoming difficult for me to tell. "Ah.......ahad wh.....what hap......happened - she again said weakly.

“Not claimed. Held. There is a difference.” “No one talks like you,” she said, half tease and half relief. “Plenty do,” he said. “Most of them are liars. I try not to be.” The lamp hummed. The sea threw a wet veil over the rocks and pulled it back again. She did not feel the cool any more. The air had warmed and she could not blame the lamp. “This is Night One,” she said at last, the words tasting like trust. “If I follow the rule, it belongs to one lover.”

“Just… one night. A date. Not six months. Not forever. Just one evening.” I stared at him. “Is this why you brought all these people? Is this some elaborate bribery trick?” He looked genuinely surprised. “No. Don’t get it twisted. I just want time with you. Time where we’re not angry, or confused, or bleeding. Just us.” I hesitated. “One night,” I said. “That’s it.” He smiled. “That’s enough.” “But I need to finish what I’m doing first. It’ll take hours.” He nodded. “I’ll wait.”

“It’s only the beginning of a good life, Mrs. Denver.” The evening went on smoothly as we dined under the stars on the upper deck. The candlelights flickered between us, and the sound of the stream brought out sweet melodies. After dinner, we had an intense lovemaking session until Jess could no longer feel her body move. Her tiredness made me chuckle as I covered her up in some sheets and made my way outside to enjoy the rest of the night. But as I stepped out of the door leading to the upper deck, I felt a cold metal pointed at my head.

I had followed a stranger, thinking for one crazy moment that I was special, that this connection meant something. But to him, I was just the "One Night Stand." I was the waitress who provided a distraction after a bad day in the boardroom. He didn't need to say goodbye because I wasn't someone you said goodbye to. I was someone you moved on from. "Stupid," I hissed to myself, my eyes stinging. "So incredibly stupid." I scrambled back into the bedroom and grabbed my clothes. My cheap jeans felt rough and stiff. My t-shirt still smelled like the diner. I felt like an intruder. I dressed so fast I nearly tripped.

I didn't get much sleep that night, and when daylight arrived, it brought with it nothing but a stifling sense of dread. Still haunted by Damien's message from last night, my phone rested on the nightstand like a ticking time bomb. He wanted to see me again, and while I knew I should avoid him as much as possible, I couldn't help but be drawn in by his interest and fascination.

Right? Before I could respond, another text came in, from him. "See you tonight 😈" The devil emoji. Playful? Flirty? Or something else? Wait. "See you tonight." Not "have a good day." Not "thinking about you." "See you tonight" with a devil emoji. Like he has plans. Like something's going to happen tonight. The memory crashed back. "This was just night one." His words from last night. After he made me come crying. Night one. Which means...

I didn’t know the person who spoke the next words. “One night,” I started quietly, “With all three of you.” 

“I’m not asking you to forget the last few months. I’m asking for one night. Give me that, please!” I searched his face for the usual flicker in his eyes to be certain he was playing with me, the slight curve of his mouth when he was saying what I wanted to hear. Tonight, the armor wasn’t polished. There were dents. “One night,” I repeated. His shoulders eased. “One night.” “And after that?” “We keep going, one step at a time.” I arched my brow. “You make it sound simple.” “It’s not,” he admitted. “But we can try.”

Sat on the terrace with the city below and the boys behind me, and the full weight of everything tonight was going to require. Once, I had said. The problem was that I had given him one chance, and that once had produced two people arguing about a puzzle in a hotel suite, and "once" wasn't the right word for that. I was going to have to find the right word tonight. I had eight hours.