Page 71 of A Lie in Church

“Well, it’s about time,” I slurred, trying to focus on one image of Tristan.

He reached for the bottle and took a big gulp, and then he leaned back on the seat. I was drifting to sleep slowly, but Tristan was already talking. I wasn’t hearing anything. I stopped fighting it and closed my eyes and welcomed the darkness.

I hated hangovers.My stomach and my head made me stay in bed. I wasn’t sure how I had gotten to my room. I winced, gripping the sheets. I needed some painkillers, or this agonizing pain would make me go crazy.

There was a knock on my door. I groaned before answering. Morris walked in with a small tray and a smile.

“Good morning, Miss Simpson. I hope you slept well. I made you some hangover soup.”

“Hangover soup?” I sat up and collected it. I examined the pale-colored soup and tried not to throw up. I thanked him and braced myself to take a spoon. “Please get some painkillers.”

He nodded and left. It was my first time seeing a hangover soup, and it actually tasted good. After taking the soup and the pills, I went back to sleep.

When I woke up, it was past one. I took a long and soothing shower and dressed up in a red floral dress. I packed my hair up in a ponytail and left the room. Morris was making lunch, and Tristan was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is Tristan?” I asked Morris.

“Why are you looking for me?” I jumped from the sudden question from behind.

Tristan opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He was wearing swim shorts, and a gray towel hung on his left shoulder. His wet hair was swept back. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he drank the water.

I tried not to let my eyes wander around his prominent, abs and ridges on his taut torso. Man, it was getting hot in here. My eyes didn’t miss the drop that slid down his lower lip until it reached the floor. I was still wondering how something so trivial he did without adding any effort looked so good. I pretended to check my short nails when he turned to look at me.

“I was taking a swim. I never told you I needed a babysitter,” he said and left the kitchen.

“I just wanted to say thank you for taking me to my room when I waswasted!” I yelled after him.

I sighed and took a seat at the kitchen island. I couldn’t remember much from last night. I knew he had been there, and I had been mad at my exam score and Adrian’s sudden date night. He’d wanted to tell me the truth about what had happened at the wedding, and I’d somehow blacked out.Idiot.

“Do you need help with anything?” I asked Morris.

“No, Miss Simpson, but thanks for asking.”

“Come on. You look like you have so much to do. Let me help. I have nothing to do.”

It took him a couple of seconds to agree.

“You can stir the sauce for me.”

“Awesome!” I rushed to the electric cooker.

“How did you know I had a hangover?” I asked.

“I saw you last night, sleeping on the floor in the living room. I tried to wake you, but you were too drunk to raise a hand. I picked you up and took you to your room.”

I stopped stirring the sauce and looked at him. “You were the one who took me to my room?”

“Yes, Miss Simpson. You were all alone on the floor.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, erupting in embarrassment. I tried to hide my glowing cheeks. “Thank you, Morris.”

He gave me a warm smile. I returned it and continued stirring the sauce.

I wentto the garden after having lunch alone in the dining room. Tristan had gone MIA again.

It was the weekend. I decorated my room with the flowers I’d gotten from the garden and did some homework before staying with Belvina on the phone for almost four hours, talking about random things.

I made Morris eat dinner with me and asked about his family. He had three kids and five grandchildren. His wife had passed away, and it broke my heart to hear about her death. She had been killed in a hit-and-run, and the cops had been unable to locate the person responsible.