Emma groaned as she tried to open her eyes. Her head felt like it had been attacked with a hammer. She must have been drinking last night. There was something warm pressed up against her back. What had she been doing last night?

Finally, she was able to open her eyes enough to see a blurry hand in front of her face. The hand was attached to an arm that was wrapped around her as she lay in bed. That explains the warmth against her back.

This wasn't her house. She didn't recognize the hand, or the arm it was attached to, only that it looked masculine. She tried to crawl out of bed carefully, but her movements awoke the stranger.

"Where are you going?" He asked, rubbing his eyes to look at her. Emma hastily pulled the sheets around herself, shielding her naked body from his view. He seemed to find this humorous.

"Where are my clothes?" she asked, her tone demanding an answer. He shrugged and gestured around the room.

"The floor, the bed," he chuckled to himself, "the ceiling fan. It was quite a night."

She leaned over and threw up on the floor, from both alcohol and disgust.

"Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," he said, mostly to himself but loud enough for her to hear.

"Sorry," she apologized.

"It's okay," he assured her. "I can clean that."

"Not just for that, but for whatever happened last night."

"Your boyfriend isn't going to come beat me up, is he?"

"I don't have a boyfriend," she started. "Because I have a girlfriend," she finished, before his grin could grow too wide.

He got out of bed, without giving a second thought to her seeing him naked. She kept her eyes shut until she was sure he was at least dressed from the waist down, not wanting to vomit again. He wasn't a grotesquely hideous man. In fact, he was fairly cute, but only in the sense that his brown eyes reminded her of Regina. But he was still a man.

"How about I go make breakfast and leave you alone to your clothing scavenger hunt? There's a bathroom through that door if you need to… uh…yeah." He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Mentioning a girlfriend worked pretty well in curbing male interest. Although it wasn't a lie. Emma really did have a girlfriend.

Regina.

Panic took hold of Emma as she hastily crawled out of bed, careful not to step in her vomit on the floor. She nearly fell face down on the floor, but managed to stumble to her purse and pull out her phone. She had many messages from Regina.

Sorry, dear. I have to stay late at the office. 8:07pm

Don't wait up for me. I'm okay, just have a lot to get done. 10:14pm

I will definitely need a lot of coffee once this is all done. 12:46am

I do apologize if I'm waking you up with these text messages, but it's nice to have someone to talk to. 3:39am

I wish I could be there with you, but work is annoying. I love you and miss you. I even miss the way you drool in your sleep. 4:58am

At this point, there's not much merit to returning home. I'm so sorry I didn't get a chance to see you. I'm leaving on time today. 6:27am

The first two were already marked as read messages.

Regina didn't come home last night. Emma would have liked to say that she was concerned for her hardworking and sleep deprived girlfriend, but honestly she was relieved. Regina didn't know that Emma had gone out. Regina didn't know that Emma had gotten herself drunk. Regina didn't know that Emma had slept with a strange man. Regina didn't know that Emma had done all of this while carrying a little box with an engagement ring in her purse. And Emma was determined that she would never find out.