The door shut with a click, dragging Nadia into consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the jackhammer in her head. She groaned. Dense sunlight beamed through a small window high in the wall and fell across her face. The erratic movements of the fine dust particles within it mirrored the state of her brain. She tried to return to the darkness of dreamless sleep, but it was useless. The white ray of sunshine glowed through her eyelids, and all she saw was fleshy pink.

She grabbed the pillow from under her head and pressed it against her face. That dampened things, but the smothering material made her nauseous. She threw it off, let out a moan, and rolled to her side.

Millimetre by millimetre, she opened one eye. Instead of Khai lying across the other side of the room, she saw an open door leading to an en suite.

Shit!

She sat bolt upright, and her head exploded. For a moment, she thought she'd hit something hard, and then realised she had woken to the mother of all hangovers.

Not again, she thought, grabbing her head as the world wheeled around her.

As the whirling settled, she became aware of her burning throat. She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too sticky and dry. Moving slowly, she turned about to the left and let out a little cry. The bedside table held a half-finished bottle of water. With lightning speed, she twisted the lid, let it clatter to the floor, and sculled the drink, relishing the feel of the semi-flat bubbles. Done, she licked cracked lips.

A box of aspirin caught her attention. Pulling out a sheaf of tablets, she popped a couple on her palm and gulped them down with more water.

Her most pressing needs met, she glanced around and willed calmness within the growing dread.

Had she? No — never. So, where was she?

She was in a medium-sized room, painted in an awful shade of peach, sitting amongst a tangle of floral bedding. Dressed — thank God. She yanked the linen back, to be sure, and found she still wore her Converses. Hallelujah! She turned to her right, pleading for the other side of the bed to be empty, and sighed in relief. That half of the bed had, without a doubt, been uninhabited the night before.

Still, Khai would not like this. Not one bit. If he found out she'd been in another man's bed, clothed or not, she was dead meat.

A man's room? How did she know? She didn't.

Her heart slowed down a notch, but not enough. Where was she, and how had she got here?

Vague and shadowy images teased at the edge of her memory. It had been cold, and Khai had been furious. There had been loud music. They had been at a party and Khai was with that woman — the one named after grass. Someone had held her in his arms, someone tall, and her body had jolted in the night air. But who had it been?

Aware of pain in her bladder, she swung her legs off the edge of the bed. As she did so, a clump of matted hair fell in front of her face, and the scent of vomit wafted up to her nostrils. Her stomach lurched. She shoved off the mattress, intent upon the toilet. As she did, her foot caught in the sheets and she fell. Luckily, falling over when still drunk wasn't too painful.

A minute later, her head rested against the cold concrete wall as, with eyes closed, she listened to a soft tinkle and felt the pressure release from her bladder. She slumped, thinking how easy it would be to sleep where she sat.

Close, but no cigar. The banging in her head resumed.

Grunting, she stood, and the room spun around her. She pottered over to the sink, washed her hands and splashed her face with cold water. A fright stared at her from the mirror. Smudged makeup, red eyes and a frazzle of hair.

A fancy brown-leather beauty case on the shelf drew her gaze. Curious, she unzipped the bag and, when no tell-tale puffs of powder escaped, she realised it belonged to a man. Bugger. She shrugged and inhaled the spicy fragrance, pulled out one of the neatly stacked tubes and read the label: 'Tom Ford Anti-Fatigue Eye Treatment'. She re-zipped the case, sniggering as she wondered why the owner would come to a place like this.

The urge to crawl back under the covers hit her as she re-entered the bedroom. Self-preservation told her to haul ass out of it and find her way to her own bunk. She pulled the sheets of the bed, wrinkling her nose at the smell, and dragged them behind her.

She opened the door to the familiar green walls of the Bienvenido a Casa hostel. Her breath came out in a swoosh at the sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard across the hall.

"Buenos días," said Jacqui in a voice that was far too cheerful.

Still half standing in the room, Nadia lifted a limp hand and waved. "Morning, Jacqui." She rested her head on the door frame, closing her eyes.

"Noche loca?" the woman asked with eyebrows raised.

"Humph, you could say that."

The front door flew open in a babble of laughter and Nadia peered around to the left, half aware of Jaqui's voice.

"Dios mio, not so crazy as some."

Nadia started to chuckle, then froze at the sight of Khai stepping into the building. He stopped in his tracks, face scrunched up like he was sucking on a lemon. His body jerked forward as someone bumped into him from behind.

"What is it?"

He turned and replied, "Nadia."

"Oh."

A bucket of cold water tipped over her head, seeping into her heart. The snippets of memory from the night before suggested a story that did not end well, even though deep down she knew she was innocent. Unfortunately for her, exiting a different room did not work in her favour.

"This isn't what you think," she squeaked.

"Huh?" asked Khai, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I didn't hear you from whatever man's bed it is you're crawling out of."

She swallowed. "I — I said it's not what you think."

"What, you mean I am imagining this? Do you think I am an idiot?"

She hesitated at the door, teetering between moving towards him and seeking the shelter of the room behind her. "Please, Khai, it — it's the truth. I just slept —"

"Quiet!"

She flinched at the venom in his voice. His eyes were bloodshot, the pupils dilated, and spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. "I am going for a walk. You will be gone when I get back — you hear me!" He pointed his index finger at her, sharp as a blade. "I don't want to see you back here." Then he spun on his heels and pushed past his followers.

Nadia faced a gaping Savannah. The woman paused a moment and then followed. The rest of the group shuffled into the building and walked past her, muttering to themselves, their eyes trained on the floor.

She stood a minute, staring at the open door. When she turned, Jacqui regarded her from sorrowful eyes.

"I didn't do anything."

"Sí, lo sé." Jacqui turned her head in the direction of the common room. "Your hero durmió en el sofá."

Nadia didn't know what the woman meant. A sob escaped her mouth, and she rubbed her hands together as she fought to keep her emotions under control.

"Shh, mi querida. You need to take a shower and change your clothes. Después, things will look better." She rose, took the bedding, then holding Nadia's hand and clucking her tongue, led her to the dormitory.

Nadia woodenly gathered her items, Jacqui watching on in silent support.

Jacqui was correct in part. As the warm water trickled over her, she calmed. The act of cleansing her body was a reassuring ritual, washing away her worries for a brief time. Until she rationalised her situation.

I can work this out. This is not the end — we will get through it. He just needs to sober up and have a little while to himself. He will come to see reason, surely. Her stomach sunk as it became evident this would take more than a day. She needed to give him space. Give him some distance from her.

Cradling her heart, she changed into her most comfortable clothes, letting the smell of lavender-scented cotton wrap around her, soft and comforting on her skin. But after her comb brushed out the last tangle in her still-wet hair, and she had packed away her belongings, reality crashed back down.

He had told her to leave and another woman — a beautiful woman — comforted him, filling the space she would leave.

She kneeled on the floor and stared numbly at the wall, vaguely aware of the messages on the wall, scribbled in various languages. She was in a foreign country, thousands of miles from home, she barely spoke Spanish, and most of her money was gone.

He doesn't want me anymore.

Her heart convulsed like an invisible hand was squeezing, pulling and tearing at it. What made it worse was he had turned people against her. She knew this with every fibre of her being, and it triggered self-righteous rage. She fisted her hands, grinding her teeth. Screw you, hypocrite.

Fury became the impetus for her to get to her feet. The person on the top bunk mumbled as she steadied herself on the railing and wobbled the bed.

Khai had called her his soulmate, said he'd be lost without her. Well, she would remind him of this. No social media, no email. She would get off the grid until the Inca trail, and he could stew.

She pulled out her phone, now almost flat, and typed a quick message.

Nadia: You want some time to think. You've got it. See you in Cusco. You know where and when.

Jacqui peered up in surprise when she entered the office. "You should rest a while. Estas borracha."

Nadia sniffed and forced a smile to reassure the woman. "No, I want to go," she quirked her lips. "The Gringo Trail waits for no one, you know."

Jacqui stood. "At least wait para desayuno."

Nadia felt her head spin again. She should wait and eat breakfast. But plan made, she determined to move on before she chickened out. "No." Her voice broke a little, and she checked her smile. "No, I'm not hungry, and I really do need to go."

A sad serenity had settled within her, and she felt vaguely detached — as if the world wasn't quite real or someone else was living her life.

"Where will you go?"

"Cusco. I, umm, I have stuff booked. How much do I owe? Just for me, that is." She wasn't going to let him get away with not paying again.

Jacqui tilted her head in a birdlike gesture. "Mi querida, did you not realise you have a — how do you say it? Ah yes, you have a knight in shining armour?"

"A what?" The question came out in a huff. Her feet itched to leave, and the word games made her want to stomp her feet. "Never mind."

"You should stay," Jacqui said and placed her hand on Nadia's. "It means your account is a square."

Nadia shook her head, baffled, and instantly regretted it as the world tilted around her. "Whatever you say. Hasta luego, Jacqui."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Buenos días — Good morning

Noche loca?  — Crazy night?

Sí, lo sé — Yes, I know

Your hero durmió en el sofá  — Your hero slept on the couch

Mi querida — My dear

Después — After

Estas borracha — You're drunk

Desayuno — Breakfast

Hasta luego — See you later

Image sourced from scramsystems.com