He turns and walks back into his room, leaving me panting against the wall. “No matter what you think of me, I’m not that big of an asshole,” he adds before slamming the door.

I stand in the hall for a moment to collect my bearings. So not only did I drink way more than my body could handle last night, I puked in public, attended and enjoyed myself at a strip club, begged to sleep with the person who was taking care of me, and then insulted him after reviving me from my bender. Great! My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I’m a grown woman with a child and in the middle of a divorce, and I behaved like a twenty-one-year-old on spring break. Selfie pictures and film clips on social media sites would make this misadventure complete.

I quickly walk to the elevator, step inside, and push the button for my floor. Digging into my purse, I find my phone and begin my scavenger hunt through my photo gallery for evidence of my evening with Royce. Sure enough, there are pictures of the two of us all over town. Margaritaville, the fountains at the Bellagio, the roller coaster, and singing with the piano guy at the New York New York; even pictures with groups of very attractive women. My guess would be the strippers he mentioned.

The thing I notice in all of the pictures, though, is I’m smiling…he’s smiling. No matter what my preconceived notions about Royce were, he made me feel comfortable enough to spend the evening with him, and it wasn’t the alcohol. We looked like friends enjoying each other, and if I hadn’t let my mouth completely mess it up, we would probably be enjoying each other right now.

I close out the pictures and bring my home screen back up to see the multiple missed calls from Vivian and Jen. Numerous text messages wanting to know where I am, and if the Russian mob has kidnapped me and I need Liam Neeson to rescue me. Yeah, that one was Jen.

The elevator doors slide open and I quickly shoot off a text that I’m fine and I’ll meet them for breakfast as planned. I finally make it to my hotel room and relax into my $200 a night king size bed. My eyes are still tired and my body aches, but my mind won’t turn off enough to rest. Instead, I scan through the pictures of my previous evening. I look more alive and free in those images than I have felt in several years. I can’t stop staring at Royce and feel bad for treating him the way I did.

I rub my hands down my face, even though my mother routinely warned me that such an action would pull at my skin and cause wrinkles. It does little to relieve the stress I feel. So I sigh deeply and do the only thing I know will help. I find the number I’m looking for and send the only words I can say.

I’m sorry.

Campbell

I struggled to pull myself away from Lakin this morning. Our bed was a cocoon of warmth and love no one should have to leave, but if I don’t make it to breakfast this morning with the girls, there will be hell to pay.

Last night was one of the hardest and best of my life. Sharing my story with Lakin was so frightening. Other than Sharon and Evan, no one knows about all of it, not even the girls. Lakin was right though, if we were going to take that step, he needed to know all of me, the good and the bad. His reaction, the way he made me feel worthy, only makes me love him even more. My fear of losing everything is fading and Lakin has replaced that fear with hope…a hope for what could be.

However, I’m not ready to tell the girls what Lakin and I did last night. Even though we are here for Jen’s bachelorette party, the wedding still a few months away, and Lakin and I agreed to keep it a secret until it was all over. For me, the heart we had tattooed on my ring finger is enough of a reminder of our new life together.

I kissed his temple, left him a sweet love note, and slipped out the door without waking him this morning. Maybe if I just order toast or something else equally quick, I could be back in our bed before he even notices I was gone.

When I see Jen and Vivian in the booth already, my optimism for a fast breakfast meeting diminishes. Then when I see Carly stumble to the booth, ragged and hungover, all hope is lost.

“Good lord, what happened to you?” Jen asks Carly as we both slide into the booth. I feel for her, but I’m glad those questions aren’t aimed in my direction.

Carly takes a small sip of the water in front of her and then lays her head back on the cushion of the booth, looking up at the ceiling. “Royce took me around town and my liver may never recover,” she says.

“How did this happen?” Vivian asks. “We called several times after dinner, no one ever answered. I thought you were going to a show.”

Carly turns her head to me, pleading with me to step in, but I remain quiet. I don’t have a lie to cover the evening for the both of us, so I let her flail in the wind on her own. When I say nothing, Carly throws me to the wolves.

“We were, but Campbell ditched me. I was by myself at the hotel bar when Royce found me. We just hung out. We had fun. I wouldn’t mind spending more time with him. I don’t see why you hate him so much,” she tells Jen.

Aaaannd the atomic bomb detonates and the mushroom cloud now hovers above Jen’s head.

“Royce! Hung out with Royce!” Jen squeals, her voice taking on a decibel level that only dogs could decipher. She then turns her narrowed eyes to me. “This is your fault. If you guys had gone to the show like you were supposed to, she never would have been pulled into his man-whore trap. What in the world was so important that you abandoned Carly and possibly exposed her to a life of a rock star tramp?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Vivian interrupts. “Jen, you need to settle down a tad. Carly is a big girl and can spend time with whomever she wants. Campbell doesn’t need to babysit her.”

“It was fine, Jen,” Carly chimes in. “We had a good time and he was a perfect gentleman. If anything, I was mean to him and hurt his feelings, which was entirely unwarranted.”

Jen huffs and takes a drink of her orange juice. “Don’t sweat it; that man has no feelings.”

“Be nice, Jen, he may prove you wrong someday and you don’t eat crow very well,” Vivian warns.

“Yeah, and I fart rainbows and ride on unicorns,” Jen jokes sarcastically. She turns to Carly and points her finger at her in a stern manner that demands attention. “Let’s just not let this little friendship be a regular occurrence. That man will do nothing but string you along and break your heart. I’ve seen him do it tons of times, and I refuse to let him treat one of my friends that way.”

Carly throws her hands up in surrender. I think more from lack of energy from her hangover, than her being convinced of Royce’s negative attributes. She is appeasing her, so the conversation can shift in a different direction, and I don’t blame her one bit.

If I thought it would help with Jen’s opinion of him, I might have stepped in and spoke up for Royce, but I know better. Actions speak louder than words with Jen, and he has shown her no reason to believe in his virtue.

I’ve known Royce longer than Jen has, and yes, he flings himself from meaningless interlude to the next while on the road. I don’t think the man has ever had an actual girlfriend. He’s a big kid who finds humor in the most immature and ridiculous situations; he can be absolutely infuriating.

However, there is a side to him that Jen has never seen. He can be the sweetest guy with a huge heart, who would help anyone he could. Most of the money he’s made he’s given to his family, but Jen doesn’t want to hear any of that. To her, he’ll always be the front man of Absolution who can’t keep it in his pants.

“What exactly did you do last night?” Vivian inquires, interrupting my thoughts.

I try to stall, so when a waitress comes by, I grab her and ask for a menu. She politely tells me it’s a buffet and I can just go get whatever I would like, but if I have a special drink order, she could take care of it for me. Great, now I look like I’m stalling.