The Weakness in Me by Josie Leigh

Where’s Corigan?” Samantha asked, rushing around her room looking for her robe. The pain of her hangover throbbed behind her eyes, but she continued in her task as if she didn’t think she was about to bleed from the ears.
    “Wow! You really must have been out of it,” Jason said, astonished. “Your mom picked up Corigan yesterday so that you could have the day to yourself. She knew it was going to be a hard day for you. She’s dropping her off tonight,” he finished, sitting up in her bed, lazily, but making no motion to indicate he was planning on getting out of bed any time soon.
    “Okay, so I know where my daughter is now, how do you fit into all of this?” Samantha slipped into her robe and tied it around her waist, even in her unflattering flannel pajamas she felt too exposed to Jason’s gaze.
    “You really don’t remember?” Jason asked, shocked. “Think, Sammy, think hard,” his blue eyes staring into hers like they were pleading with her to remember.
    “Fuck,” she said as a memory from the night before came crashing around her. “I drunk dialed you, didn’t I? I called you to come and get me…not Sara.”
    “Guilty,” Jason laughed , his eyes still looked sad; like there was more she’d forgotten.
    “Oh, God!” Samantha collapsed back on the bed and pulled her pillow over her head.
    “Aspirin?” Jason asked.
    “Please!” she groaned, only causing Jason to laugh harder. She felt the bed shit beside her and she assumed he’d folded himself out of her bed.
    “Coming right up, Princess.”
    “Ugh, I’d rather be called Sammy,” she mumbled from beneath her pillow.
    Samantha felt Jason nudging her back a few minutes later. Lifting herself on to her elbows, she found him holding a glass of water and two pink ibuprofen. “My hero,” she croaked, taking the pills and popping them into her mouth before grabbing the glass from him. “Thank you.”
    “Welcome,” he smiled as he took the glass from her and set it on the stand beside the bed.
    “So, how did we end up in bed together?” Samantha asked, bluntly, her eyes narrowed at the thought of something more than friendship occurring. He looked at her carefully, like he was trying to choose his words. She could admit to herself now that she sometimes wondered what it would be like to kiss him again. However, she would be disgusted if she found out she’d done something that foolish on her anniversary. Was that why he’d looked so disappointed? Because he’d needed to push her away because of her drunken haze and he knew she wouldn’t be ready? She was in mid freak out when he finally started to talk.
    “You drank three bottles of wine last night. I tried to sleep on your fainting couch, but it was horribly uncomfortable,” Jason indicated the cream colored chaise next to the window seat overlooking the deck. He was right. Although it was beautiful, it was definitely not functional for anything more than a foot rest.
    “We have a guest room downstairs, and I know for a fact the couch in the living room is incredibly comfortable,” she offered.
    “Again, you had three bottle s of wine, Sammy,” he said as if it explained everything. She gave him a questioning look to let him know she was going to need more words.
    “And?” she asked, waiting as she drummed her fingers on the duvet, hoping to hurry him along.
    “AND…you kept saying you were going to puke, and I didn’t want to be that far away in case you did. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you choked in your sleep or something,” he shrugged, moving toward the chaise and looking out the window toward the frozen lake.
    Something in his voice indicated there was still more to the story, but having the basic story satisfied her desire to fill in the blanks of the evening. Besides, she was afraid to find out what she’d said when she was that drunk…come to think of it…had she ever been that drunk before? No, she hadn’t. Only once in her nearly twenty-seven