Scars Of A Broken Bond by Calv Momose

With a resigned smile, Blayze gingerly placed the glass down, withdrew his phone and contacted his secretary, tasking her with
the acquisition of a women’s down jacket.
After a brisk shower, Blayze donned fresh attire and thoughtfully penned a note for Sabrina before stepping out.
It wasn’t until the afternoon that Sabrina stirred from her slumber.
She groggily opened her eyes and found herself ensconced within the confines of the hotel room, Despite the throbbing ache in
her head, she immediately sat up and conducted a hasty inventory of her attire.
To her immense relief, her clothing remained intact, save for the down jacket she had been draped in.
Thankfully. With a sigh of relief, she reclined once more and shut her eyes.
Her recollections resurfaced. The bar, the unsettling encounter with those three men, and then... Tyrone seemed to show up
later.
“How long do you intend to slumber?” A voice, distinctly not Tyrone’s, suddenly sounded from her vicinity.
Sabrina’s eyes fluttered open and to her astonishment, she beheld the man before her, “Blayze? What... What are you doing
here?”
“This is my hotel room,” Blayze replied through tightly clenched teeth.
Blayze reclined gracefully upon the plush sofa, a sleek laptop stationed before him, his mind engrossed in labor.
Startled, Sabrina roused herself, her gaze sweeping the room in astonishment.
The room bore conspicuous traces of habitation, distinct from the aura of a freshly occupied space.
With a curiosity that danced in her voice, she inquired, “Why an I here?
Blayze found himself momentarily at a loss for words, finally responding, “What is your surmise?”
Following a contemplative pause, Sabrina ventured, “Did you retrieve me from the bar?”
It was not Tyrone but Blayze, who had come to her aid on that occasion. She had drunk a fair amount. Had she erred in her
judgnent?

Blayze arched an eyebrow, offering no denial.
“Blayze, I extend my heartfelt gratitude for your assistance.”
Sabrina, her countenance tinged with bashfulness, tentatively inquired, “In my inebriation, did I utter anything that may have
offended you?”
Such as calling Blayze Tyrone?
Though the case of mistaken identity held no grave consequence, it remained discourteous to the unrecognized, especially one
such as Blayze.
“No, not in the slightest,” Blayze responded, his smile reassurance itself. Sabrina breathed a sigh of relief, murmuring, “That is a
relief.”
Blayze’s countenance took on a wry twist as he admitted, “But you did throw up all over me.