“Paula, wake up,” I heard him say, and I was surprised not to hear any anger in his voice.

I blinked slowly and looked at him again. My mouth felt dry, and there were strands of hair covering my face, and through it all, I wondered what I looked like. If I looked as bad as I felt, and if, behind his concern, there was just a sliver of disgust there.

I wondered if he ever thought about how bad he looked when I had to clean the whiskey from his stubble.

Probably not.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, supporting my insecurities.

I cringed. It must be really bad. But then I saw his expression, and it occurred to me that he wasn’t just saying that I didn’t look great. He was talking about something particular. I tried to speak, but nothing came out, and my throat ached as I tried to form words. Summoning all the strength I could, I reached a hand up and touched the side of my face. I winced as my fingers connected with a puffy, tender part of my face, right below my right temple.

“Ow,” I said, the first sound I’d made all morning, and it was a low, alcohol-laced growl of a word. I didn’t have to see it to know that there was a sizable bruise there. “I don’t know,” I finally said, my voice sounding scratchy, deep, and nothing like my own.

Keith let out a long sigh. “You need to drink this,” he said.

I looked down and noticed he had a glass of water in his hands. It fizzled a little in a way that plain water shouldn’t, which let me know he’d added something to it.

“There’s no way.”

“Paula—”

“There’s no way. Just give me a minute.”

He sighed again and put the glass down on the nightstand beside me.

“Where did you guys go?” he asked. “Another one of Vanessa’s parties?”

Through all my pain, I felt the immediate regret of my lies. There was a part of me—the good part of me—that wanted to tell the truth. To tell him that I hadn’t been out with Vanessa, and that I hadn’t actually lied about it, but that when he’d assumed it, I just hadn’t corrected him. That same part of me wanted to say that I’d been with a new friend, at a party in the Gold Coast, and that I’d fallen asleep on her carpet and then been put in a cab to go home.

That’s it.

A few pieces of the puzzle began to come together as I remembered stepping out of a cab in front of our apartment and falling onto the pavement.

I must have hurt my face then?