Hurt That Stings

Gray

I wake up to an empty bed, I sit up straight, and the curtain is slightly open, so the light is shining through. I hold my head, I’ve got a hangover, making today even longer than it already was going to be. Last night, my dream of having Mark in my bed felt so real. Looking around the room, I try to convince myself it had been a dream, Mark’s clothes are not here… I get the smell of breakfast, so my father must be back home.

I get out of bed, wearing the white t-shirt and lace thong I had dreamed I was wearing. My dress is even folded over the chair, the way I dreamed it. Was it a dream? Sighing, I get up from my bed and take a warm shower. I decided to wear dark blue skinny jeans, the black boots that Mark gave me, a white blouse, and a black formal jacket with three-quarter sleeves. I keep my soft curls loose and apply my makeup.

Once I’m done, I take my bag and check it to see if everything is still in there. Everything is as it was, and I leave my phone in the bag. I open my room door and I walk out. The smell of breakfast is making me hungry. I walk down the stairs, and my stomach growls.

I reach the kitchen and I stop in my tracks and I let out a little gasp. Behind the stove is Mark in his dress pants and white dress shirt, making breakfast. My dream was real. He turns around with a pan in his hand, and he looks my way.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?” he asks me with a smirk.

“Morning. Um, my head is killing me. I thought that I was dreaming of last night, but here you are, so last night was real.” I say, but his jaw clenched as he dishes the scrambled egg onto our plates. He doesn’t say anything. “Thank you for last night,” I say as I move closer to the kitchen counter.

“I did what any other person who cares about you would’ve done,” he places the pan in the sink. He sits down on the bar stool and I join him on the opposite side. I place my bag on the bar stool that is next to me. “You need to be more careful when you are at clubs. I suggest that you only go to my friends’ club. I will make sure that nothing happens to you when I’m not around,” he says with a serious look in his eyes.

I swallow, feeling guilty about the club. “Okay, but I was out with the interns,” I say.

“They could just be as drunk as you, Gray. So my friend’s club is the only one you will go to, and that is not up for any further discussion,” he says, burning his eyes into me, not the heated type of burn, more like a child being disciplined.

“I am not a child anymore,” I say.

“Then stop acting like one,” he said harshly at me, which pierced my heart. All I can do is just look at him in shock. I never encountered this side of him before, except when he was upset about something at the office, but not to this extent. “What you did last night is not to happen again either,” he looks at me still with that stone-cold face.

“You mean the kiss,” I say.

“Yes, I should’ve known that you have some crush on me, but nothing further will ever happen. You crossed a line, Gray,” he says. I lost my appetite. I put my fork down on the plate.

“You kissed me back, and the way you kissed me was nothing.”, says, looking up at him.

“It didn’t do anything to me, so now you know how I feel about you. You will remain my best friend’s little daughter, who is completely off-limits. Don’t try to pull anything off because it will never happen. I don’t know what you see between us, but there is nothing. It’s all about you and your feelings. I feel nothing for you because your words last night were everything that I needed to draw a line with you now, and to say it to you straight. I am not interested in my best friend’s daughter!” he says.

That hurt me, and what was I even thinking? Did I think that I would live happily ever after with Mark Stern? This is just a stupid crush. “I’ve lost my appetite,” I said as I got up from the bar stool.

“There are painkillers on the cabinet, for your head,” he says. I take the painkillers and I fill a glass with water. I swallow two of them.

“I’m ready for work,” I say.

“I will be driving. You cannot drive in your current state.”, he gets up, shakes his head to himself, and scoffs “state of wanting me and state of pain”, he says, amused as if this is a freaking joke to him.

“I will take a cab then. You can take my freaking car!” I say as tears burn the back of my eyes. I walk out of the kitchen.

“Gray, you will drive with me, and that is final!” he says with a tone that tells me that he is trying his best not to explode. I don’t want to be on that side of him, so I blink back the tears and I wait for him outside.

I bet he is cleaning up because we are about twenty minutes late. We need to get started on the day to prepare for his meeting, and I have a feeling that he will say that I’m the cause of us being late. He didn’t even need to make breakfast. I roll my eyes. I see him walking out of the house and locking up. He is wearing a jacket now, too, the same clothes as yesterday, while I’m leaning against my car. As he walks towards the car, I turn around, the wrong look or harsh tone from him would cause me to break down.