Chapter 114
-OLIVIA-
នគ
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I woke with my head feeling like I had bounced it off the wall.
I inwardly groaned. This was what I got for drinking too much when I knew I could not handle it.
I sighed, pushed myself off the bed, and walked to the bathroom. The mirror seemed like it wanted to wince from how bad I looked.
Makeup smeared. Hair in wild disarray. The bridesmaid dress draped over the chair looked like it needed a lawyer for its poor condition.
Then the memories hit all at once.
No. No no no no no.
How many ‘nos’ was that?
This had to be a nightmare. Roman had not punched Luca for kissing me. He had not lifted me off the ground when I refused to leave. He had not tucked me into bed like I was his little sister.
The more I remembered, the worse I felt.
I had told him if he went back downstairs and flirted with the girl he had brought to the wedding, he should never touch me again.
What the hell was I thinking?
I placed both hands on the sink and tried to bargain with the hangover-and last night’s version of myself that clearly needed to stay locked away.
I had confessed on a terrace. I had gotten rejected. I had then selected an F-boy as a coping mechanism, kissed him against a car, and issued an ultimatum to my brother’s best friend with possible lipstick on my teeth.
I was never drinking again. I was never speaking again. I was going to move to a country with no weddings.
I changed into the first decent clothes I could find-soft shirt, shorts, dignity hanging by a thread-and went downstairs because hiding would only make my siblings come find me.
I froze in the kitchen doorway.
Ethan and Roman were at the island, eating. Coffee. Plates. Morning light bursting through the open window.
Ethan looked up and grimaced. “You look like shit. What did you do last night to look like that?”
I inwardly groaned. Why did he have to embarrass me like that in front of his best friend?
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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
Roman was eating, but he was looking directly at me.
…
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Not a glance. A slow, thorough pass from my wrecked hair to my bare legs that made the kitchen feel like a spotlight. I suddenly felt exposed under his gaze. No makeup. No armor.
The memories from last night still printed on my face. I wanted the floor to open. I wanted a coat. I wanted him to stop looking at me like he could still feel my weight in his arms.
I attempted a smile. It felt like a grimace.
Ethan pointed his fork. “Hello? Earth to hungover disaster. Did you sleep on the lawn?”
“I drank,” I said. “People do that at weddings. It is a tradition.”
“You look like that tradition needs to change,” Ethan said. “Take a mental picture for the next time you decide to drink like you did last night.”
Roman’s mouth almost moved. Almost a smile. I wanted to die.
I went to the coffee pot because standing in the doorway was a full-body embarrassment. My hands shook pouring it. A splash hit the counter. I wiped it like the counter had personally betrayed me.
Ethan said something to Roman about flights. Roman dragged his gaze away from me lazily, like he had all the time in the world, and answered without a care in the world.
I hid behind the mug. It was not big enough. Nothing was big enough.
“Seriously,” Ethan said, turning back to me. “You disappeared. Tessa said you were fine. You do not look fine. Did you throw up in the fountain?”
“I did not throw up in a fountain.”
“You sure you’re okay?”
“I am fine.”
I was not fine. I could feel Roman’s attention like heat on the side of my face. Every humiliating memory kept replaying: Luca’s mouth. The punch. Me falling. Roman catching me. Roman carrying me. Me telling him never to touch me again, as if I were a woman with power and not a drunk bridesmaid with a crush and poor taste in men.
Then Ethan said the thing that made me freeze.
“Why did you send your date home early?” He pointed his fork at Roman. “She looked pissed. I thought you two were getting along.”
The fork in Roman’s hand stopped moving.
The kitchen went tense.
I gasped before I could swallow it. Too loud. Too obvious. Coffee nearly came out of my nose, which would
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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
have completed the look.
Ethan frowned at me. “What? Did you swallow a fly?”
“Nothing,” I said, voice cracking into a higher pitch.
Roman set the fork down with care. “She needed to go. It was not a good night for it.”
N9
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“That is vague,” Ethan said. “Did something happen? Actually, there is something else on my mind. I heard a rumor that Luca left the party bleeding from some fight.”
Roman’s eyes flicked to me once. Not lazy this time. A warning and a memory in the same look.
“Nothing you need to worry about I’m sure. He probably pissed someone’s boyfriend off.”
Ethan accepted that because he trusted Roman. Because Roman was his best friend. Because he did not know his best friend had punched Luca for kissing his little sister and carried her up the back stairs.
He had sent his date home?
Early?
I did not know if it meant he cared in the way I wanted. I only knew the fork had stopped, and my gasp was still there, and I was standing in shorts in my parents’ kitchen trying not to look like a person who was hopelessly in love with her brother’s best friend.
I burned my tongue on the coffee. Winced. Tried to play it off.
Roman stood to put his plate in the sink. He passed close enough that I caught the same cologne that always made me dizzy. He did not touch me.
He did not have to.
“Drink water,” he said, quiet, for me, not for Ethan. “You are still clearly not in a good state after yesterday. Drink this as well.”
I watched as he pushed something like a teabag next to me.
Then he walked out of the kitchen.
Ethan raised his eyebrows. “Since when does he give you hangover advice?”
So he still managed to hear.
“Since never,” I said.
“That was weird.”
“You are weird.”
“I am weird.” He said with a chuckle.
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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
ཊྛི
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I left before my brother could see the way my hands were shaking around the mug, and before I could do something even worse.
He had sent her home.
And I had no idea what I was supposed to do with that information except hold onto hope that there was a chance he’d done it for me.
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14:56 Thu, Sep 17
The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.