Noah leans against the bathroom doorframe with a towel wrapped around his waist, displaying his beautifully sculpted abs. He bites his lip, jaw clenching, as his persistent stare lies firmly on me.
Inside my chest, a giant knot forms, the nerves sinking deeper into a black hole while he waits for me to respond. My breaths follow in sharp pants, and as I try to gain control, nothing seems to work, so I scramble to get away from him.
“Um… I just need to use the bathroom.”
Running for the bathroom and almost bumping into him, he graciously moves out of the way enough to close the door behind me. The bathroom’s small, nothing at all like my own extravagant room, and without further thought, I dive straight for the toilet. My chest heaves, mouth opening wide to spill the remnants from my stomach. Nothing comes out but air, choking me, as I repeat another three times before pulling myself up into a standing position.
Okay, breathe.
What is the last thing you remember? The party last night.
Noah and Morgan got into that huge fight, then I pulled Morgan away in an effort to diffuse the argument. She called me names, admitting she knew I was in love with Noah. We argued, physically pushing each other until she fell to the ground after the static shock.
It was the same shock I got when I first put on the dress.
The bile rises in my throat, body jerking forward as I vomit into the bowl. This can’t be happening. Heavy pants become long-winded moans, the panic rippling in waves until I manage to compose myself and stand. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I hear Noah behind the door talking to someone. Pulling the glass shower door open, I run the water to disguise the noise of my moaning. Maybe a shower may wash away whatever sick spell has been cast over me.
Or maybe, just maybe this wasn’t a spell, but my damn wish coming true.
I wished to have one moment with him.
I wished that it could have been me instead of her.
Shit!
As I open my eyes, the hot water clouds my vision, while the bathroom door opens letting out the steam.
“Meet you downstairs. Jessa is awake, and I just got an urgent call from Haden.”
The door shuts again, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Okay, I need a plan to get out of here.
Get changed.
Head downstairs.
Leave.
There has to be a way to fix this, I just need to reverse whatever happened last night.
I pick through the best of Morgan’s clo
set choosing a cream blouse and charcoal pencil skirt then match it with black closed-in pumps. It’s a workday, so choosing jeans and a casual tee seems out of context and will definitely raise questions.
After getting dressed using Morgan’s makeup on a face that isn’t my own, I style my hair into a bun copying what she often does.
With trepidation, I open the bedroom door, unsure of what to expect downstairs. The house is silent, there’s no sound of children as I slowly make my way down the stairwell toward the kitchen for a quick getaway.
“Mommy!” Jessa throws herself at me, wrapping her arms around my legs. At three years old, she’s the spitting image of Noah with the personality of a firecracker. I’m not the best of aunts, rarely spending any time with her aside from important milestones like birthdays or holidays. Kid’s just aren’t my thing.
Her deep green eyes gaze up at me. “Are you staying home with me today, Mommy?”
“Um…” I smile, forcefully, unsure of how to respond. Beneath my blouse, sweat begins to build from the nerves crippling my ability to think any rational thoughts.
You’re an actress, play the part.
Noah walks into the kitchen with his laptop, stopping by the countertop to pour some coffee before placing the mug in front of me. The mug is filled with black coffee—no creamer—which is Morgan’s favorite. I have to somehow now drink this. Bringing the mug to my lips, I blow the steam before taking a small sip, biting my lip to stop my face from reacting to the bitter taste siding down my throat.