Justina awoke with a pounding headache, the light from the sun piercing through the curtains. She shut her eyes letting out a groan as a wave of nausea passed through her. Taking a couple of deep breathes she eventually opened her eyes again staring up at the ceiling of her hotel room. Frowning slightly she seemed puzzled before lifting her head slightly to avoid letting the nausea return. This was not her hotel room. How much had she had to drink the night before.

Movement on her left had her frozen, this wasn't her hotel room and she wasn't alone. Had she and the girls been so drunk at the club that instead of going back to their already paid for room they booked another hotel room? It certainly wouldn't have been the first time she had done something like that. Rubbing her hands over her face a glint of silver caught her eye. There was a ring on her finger. There was a ring on her ring finger. There was a ring on her ring finger on her left hand. A diamond ring on her ring finger on her left hand. What the hell had she gotten herself into the night before.

She dropped her head into her hands trying to remember what had exactly happened the night before but she was just coming up blank. She remembered going out with the girls, throwing back a couple of shots thanks to the fake id she possessed but after that it was all a blur. Throwing back the covers she pushed herself out of the bed attempting to ignore the overwhelming need to find the nearest toilet and spend the next hour vomiting into it. She had had hangovers before but nothing compared to this one. Looking down she let out a sigh of relief that she was still dressed in the dress she had worn out the night before, at least things hadn’t gotten that way. But it still didn’t explain the ring on her finger.

Nothing in the hotel room gave way to Justina figuring out where she was or even where her friends had ended up making her extremely nervous. She still had no clue who was the other body in the bed and if they had any part in what happened last night. Whoever they were must have some sort of money, unless the “emergency” credit card in her purse had gotten used once again. Penthouse hotel rooms didn’t run cheap.

Justina shuffled through the pillows on the couch still looking for her purse, it was probably smarter to get the hell out of this hotel room and go back to hers to start piecing together her night than stay with some stranger. But all thoughts of that were forgotten once she stumped across the collection of papers that had been haphazardly tossed in the direction of the couch, the bold print of “Certificate of Marriage” starring back at her. No, there was no way she had been that stupid or irresponsible. Her stomach dropped seeing her own name printed on it. All her worst fears had been confirmed.

A groan from the bed broke through the mental panic attack Justina was having and it was then she remembered there was someone else involved in this whole mess. Justina bit at her bottom lip and she stood there, papers in her hands as the person under the covers began to move. She wasn’t sure what she should be doing or even how to approach this person she had clearly never met before but in the span of one night had already married. She was barely out of high school; this wasn’t how she pictured herself getting married.

She waited until he seemed awake and had noticed her standing in the room; he was years older than her from what she could tell and she briefly remembered meeting him at one of the clubs from the beginning of the night, he had been huddled in a corner looking all sorts of tall, dark and mysterious. He mumbled something that could have been construed as “good morning”, it was clear he didn’t have any more of an idea about what happened the night before than Justina did.

She held up the papers she had found giving a slight chuckle, “so it looks like we’re married.”