29: Lottie

I don’t want to be negative. But if I could describe how I expected the morning after my wedding night to be, it would not be this.

It would not be this.

I always imagined my new husband and me nestled in a huge white cottony bed, like in a soap-powder ad. Birds singing outside. Sunlight gently passing over our faces as we turn to each other and kiss, remembering our fabulous time last night, and murmuring sweet nothings to each other before moving seamlessly into spectacular morning sex.

Not waking up on a single bed, with a cricked neck, un-brushed teeth, the smell of last night’s room-service pizza, and the sound of Ben groaning on the opposite bed.

“Are you OK?” I try to sound sympathetic, even though I want to kick him.

“I think so.” He lifts his head with what appears to be a huge effort. He looks pretty green and he’s still wearing his suit. “What happened?”

“You won a bet,” I say shortly. “Well done, you.”

Ben’s gaze is distant and his eyes are moving back and forth. He’s clea