Chapter 23 Aftermath
Mark’s POV
I woke up to light in my face.
The sun rays reflected through the curtains and blurred my vision.
“Ugh,” My head felt heavy, like someone had poured sand into it overnight.
Something shifted besides me, the sheets moved.
An unrecognized feminine cologne choked me and a warm skin brushed my arms.
I blinked, trying to make sense of what I was seeing; an auburn haired, brown eyes, bare shoulders lady
Olivia.
For a few seconds I just stared, waiting for my brain to explain this.
It didn't match things up.
“Good morning.” She smiled, slow and fake-sweet.
I pushed myself up, the room spinning. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She leaned over, pressing her lips close to my ear. “You don’t remember, do you?” she whispered.
My brow furrowed, my voice had gotten hoarse. “What… happened?”
“You were amazing,” she said, keeping her voice low and steady. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It was perfect.”
I frowned, utterly confused. “What?”
“Shh,” she continued, brushing her hair again. “You were drunk. Don’t think about it now.”
“Are you mentally okay!” I yelled, totally irritated.
Her eyes started to water. “You wanted me last night. You said you couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
Holy shit.
I stared. “That’s not…no. I was drunk.”
She wrapped the blanket around herself, voice shaking “You kissed me, Mark. You told me not to leave. I didn’t mean for it to happen but… it did.”
My chest tightened. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or guilt.
What happened?
Tiny bits of last night started to come in, the glasses clinking, our laughter, my tie off, her perfume.
Nothing made sense to what Olivia was saying.
I honestly didn't remember making out with her.
“Olivia,” I said slowly, “you’re saying we”
She nodded, sniffling. “You wanted me. Please don’t make me feel any worse.”
I sat there, breathing hard, trying to piece together what she wanted me to believe.
Everything about her felt rehearsed, the way she looked down, the way she reached for her top.
It looked like some act.
“Just go,” I said finally. “Please. Let me think.”
She gave a little whimper, but she left.
The door closed behind her and silence followed.
I sat on the edge of my bed, my face in my palms.
My mouth tasted like alcohol and regret. The whole incident didn’t add up.
The alarm on my phone went off
8:30. Work.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, I grabbed a towel.
Sigh!
The cold shower felt like needles prick. It helped a bit to ease the tension.
I felt more revived.
When I came out, still drying my hair, my phone buzzed.
It was a message video. I opened the video without giving much attention to it.
It was a video.
Of me and Olivia.
I watched it , frozen at the spot.
The video contained explicit and nude content of both of us, engaging in a sexual activity…
It showed me pulling her close, kissing her neck, moaning my name.
It looked real, damn real.
“Christ…”
My towel slipped off from my waist. I didn’t even notice until I heard a sharp gasp.
“Oops!”
Becca stood by the door, clutching a file. Her face went red as fire. She spun around so fast I almost laughed.
“I, oh my God, I didn’t know you were…uh,”
I grabbed the towel, tying it back. “You have terrible timing,” I said, trying not to grin.
“Maybe lock your door next time!” she shot back, voice high.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”
Her head snapped around. “Mark!”
I raised my hand in surrender. “Okay, okay. Too soon.”
She shoved the file toward me. “This is the conference paper. You’re supposed to sign them before noon.”
I took it, still amused. “You always show up when I least expect you.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched.
“How about dinner?” I questioned, glancing through the document.
Her fingers fondled through her dress.
I dropped the phone on the desk.
“You mean the one you called an apology?”
“Yeah. That one.”
She sighed, folding her arms. “You really don’t quit, do you?”
“Not when it matters.”
She hesitated, her eyes softening just a little.
“Fine,” she said. “Just one dinner. Don’t push it further.”
“Deal.” I accepted.
She turned to leave, muttering, “And maybe keep that towel tight next time.”
I smiled as the door closed, but it faded quickly.
The phone buzzed again.
The same video.
I stared at it, my heart pounding.
I did my best pretending when Becca was around.
If it got out that I had an affair with Olivia. My chances with her would be totally ruined…
I took one more time to analyze the video.
It's angle, the sound, the way Olivia smiled into the lens; this wasn’t a drunk accident.
It was planned.
I don't have a camera in my room, so how did one get in there?
It was evident this was another game, either Olivia was a victim or playing victim.