I will not cry, I will not cry, I chant to myself, trying in vain to keep the tears from flowing. I am glad I insisted on being seated in the back away from most of the other guests. Even this small comfort doesn't bring relief as I once again berate myself for coming here in the first place. If I would have known how many couples would be here, I would have given my reservations to a friend and stayed home. Sighing, I admit the real reason I took this vacation was to get away and for a little while, to forget the past. A single tear slips down my cheek and I angrily brush it away. I am a fool, I think to myself. I will enjoy this vacation, I firmly tell myself. I dab my eyes with my napkin and gulping the last of the wine, I signal the waiter for another drink. When he comes, I order something stronger than wine, even though I know I will probably regret it later. As I wait for him to return, I look out the window at the city lights and try not to think of the past. But the bustle of the city and the merriment I see and hear only help to amplify my sadness and pain.
An hour and two drinks later, I am ready to crawl into bed. I am glad I chose to eat at the hotel's restaurant instead of venturing outside. Looking down at the remnants of my dinner, I realize I drank more than I ate which explains my predicament. Oh well, I think to myself - it's not as if anyone cares. I flag down the waiter again motioning for the check. He looks at me funny and I wonder if I spilled something on myself, but before I can ask, he tells me that my check has already been paid.
"B... B... By who," I stammer to him.
"I can not say miss," he replies.
Looking at him, I want to berate him and state that I am more than capable of paying my own bill. But then I start to wonder why, because this has never happened to me. Then it hits me, how pathetic I must look, which brought about someone's pity. "This is just great," I whisper tearfully. I stand up too fast and almost pass out, but the waiter is quick on his feet and grabs my arm. I thank him when the floor stops moving, and decline his invitation to get someone to help me. Luckily, the restaurant is pretty empty, so I stumble my way to the elevator, and pray I will get there before the tears come. It does and I clumsily push the button of the floor I am on.
As soon as the doors close, I lose it. I crumple to the floor and cry. I pull up my knees and bury my head in my arms and let the tears flow. I know I should stop but I find I can't. When the elevator stops at my floor, I am too upset to get out. I try to compose myself before the doors close, but I'm too late and the elevator moves again. I stand up slowly and wiping my eyes on my sleeve, I sniffle softly and move to push the button to my floor again. As always, I am weary after crying. I have just enough energy to get to my room I think. When the doors open again, I step out and stumble right into a man. "God I'm so sorry," I stammer and try to move past him. But, my overworked mind and body finally give up on me, and as I turn around suddenly, the world spins and for the first time in my life, I faint.
* * * *
When I wake, the first thought that crosses my mind is pain. I groan out loud as the slight movement of my head makes me want to die. Just what I need, the beginnings of a hangover, I grumble to myself. I know that I need to get up and try to find some aspirin and water, but every movement makes me cry.
"You shouldn't move so much," a soft voice whispers to me. I wasn't aware of anyone else in the room, so his voice startles me into sitting right up -- which is not a good thing in my condition. Immediately, I cry out and fall back into bed. Seconds later, I try in vain to get out of bed as the nausea hits me and I feel like throwing up. A basin gets shoved under my mouth just in time. When I'm finished, the basin moves away and I fall weakly back into the bed.
"Try to sleep," the same soft voice whispers to me, as a cool cloth bathes my forehead.
"This will help," another soft voice whispers as I feel someone move me into a slight sitting position. I feel two pills get placed gently in my hand at the same time as a cold glass of water hits my lips. I sip sparingly and take the pills which I pray will make me better. The glass moves away and I feel myself being gently lowered back into the bed. The cool cloth returns to gently wipe my face once more. As I drift away, I feel the covers being tucked around me and two soft kisses, one on each cheek.
* * * *
"She should not be alone," I hear him softly say to the other. Awake but not awake, I lie still on my side and listen to them talk. Their voices are deep and husky -- demanding yet gentle. I can only imagine the faces that go with them. I know they are speaking of me, but I wonder how they know about me. The thought crosses my mind that I am in bed with two perfect strangers, in a city far from home, and this whole situation is probably not going to end well. But, there's something about them that makes me feel like I can trust them. Still, I am wary and I begin to think of ways to extricate myself from this situation. My thoughts come to a halt when I realize they have stopped talking. Taking a deep breath, I open my eyes to find the most deep sapphire blue eyes I have ever seen looking right at me. My mouth opens in surprise but no sounds come out. A chuckle from behind me brings a blush to my cheeks, as I roll onto my back and look at an exact replica of the other.
"Identical twins," the gorgeous god in front of me says with a smile. "My name is Jonathan and my brother is Alexandar," he continues. "And you are ...," he asks softly.
"My uh, name is, uh, Elizabeth," I stammer foolishly.
"The pleasure is all ours," Alexandar says smiling at me. Turning serious, he says, "Please don't be alarmed. You passed out last night on our floor and we couldn't just leave you there. We brought you here to make sure you are ok."
"Yes," Jonathan agrees. "And we have a feeling that you are by yourself and with no one to enjoy the city with," he continues. "You are alone?" he asks quizzically. Closing my eyes, I nod miserably.
"Well you are staying here with us -- we insist," Alexandar responds back to me. My eyes dart open and shock registers on my face. I am touched that they care enough to waste their time on me, but hesitant to stay. Before I start to move away, a loud gurgle fills the silence. I blush and try to hide my head when I realize that it is my stomach rumbling. Another deep chuckle escapes the two and I hear Alexandar say with a smile, "We were going to order something to eat but didn't know what you would like. Let's see what's on the menu today."
As Alexandar rolls over to get the room service menu, Jonathan moves closer and gently begins playing with my hair. His touch is so light; it is like a feather brushing my hair. If I close my eyes, I could imagine a gentle breeze caressing me instead. The thought goes up in smoke when I feel his leg brush against my own. I freeze up. A menu appears in front of me and Alexandar begins to read off of it. Jonathan joins in, and between the two of them, they go through the whole thing. I relax and shrug off my response. I try to decide what to order but the menu is so huge, I am easily overwhelmed. When they stop and silence descends, I grow hot with embarrassment. I realize they are waiting for me to tell them what I want. There are so many choices and so many things I like that I really can't decide.
Jonathan speaks up, "You can order whatever you like. Or if nothing suits your fancy, we can call down to the kitchen and see if they'll make a special request item."
"Would you like us to order you something?" Alexandar asks.
"That's fine," I agree softly. I still feel sick but hungry so I hope food will remedy the situation. I roll over to Jonathan and start to get up. He looks at me questioningly but then realizes that I must need to go to the bathroom. Getting out of bed, he lifts the covers off of me and holds out a hand to help me up. I sway a little when I stand up but steady quickly. Looking at my feet, I manage not to trip over them as I walk in the direction Jonathan pushed me towards. I hear Alexandar calling room service as I shut the door.
Glancing in the mirror, I realize I am still wearing the dress from last night. The surprise is quickly replaced with embarrassment as I look at my face and hair in the mirror too. My face is puffy from crying and my hair is wild and unkempt. I quickly wash my face with cold water hoping it will bring the swelling down. I straighten my hair the best I can, and my dress at the same time. I find an unopened toothbrush in the drawer and brush my teeth with vigor. At the same time, I keep thinking of things to say to get me out of here and back into my own room, where I can change and put myself together. I turn to the door and spy a fluffy hotel robe hanging on the back of it. I feel exposed in my dress so I take it down and put it on. It is so soft that I can't help but nuzzle the collar and hug myself. I sober up and take a deep breath as I open the door.