"Is that dragon fruit?" I grabbed a piece off the room service platter, my wet hair, fresh out of the shower, dripped onto it as I leaned over. "Mm, so sweet!"

"You wanna look at the pictures?" James was still in his mosque clothes, but he had undone the top buttons to expose his collarbone as he leisurly draped himself over the loveseat. "Bethany wants us to pick our favorites for the queue."

I took the remote and flipped through the images on the television. "We can post the sexy ones first for that honeymoon vibe. Let's save the cutesey stuff for later. Oh I like this one." Patricia somehow caught one of us laughing at the pool. I didn't even remember that happening. The whole situation was so stressful.

"What about the serious ones?" On the screen, our dopplegangers were staring into each others' eyes with so much longing I almost believed it.

"Are we sure Patricia isn't a magician? We can post that one later with some philosophical quote about marriage."

James nodded. "Maybe post our marriage vows. I worked really hard on mine, so it's not fair that I only got to say it once."

I grabbed another piece of dragon fruit. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I just looked up marriage vows about friendship and copied one word for word.

"At this rate, we'll have at least three months worth of content. We can even save some shoots for later and pretend they aren't from this trip."

"Cool. We'll be real comfortable then. I'm so glad Bethany changed the schedule to every three days. I can't imagine how often I'd have to fly back if you still had to post three times a day."

"Nah. I'm more worried about the workers gossiping. Won't you at least visit, even if there's no event going on?"

I scrunched my nose. "Do you think I want to see your ugly face every day?"

"Where was that attitude when we were neighbors? And who said it was every day?"

While James was in the shower--neither of us were in the mood for another rose-petal bath--I finished unpacking. I couldn't find my pajamas earlier, so we had order some from room service. Even as I emptied my suitcase now, they were no where to be found, but I swear I packed them. Even stranger, James couldn't find his either, but I guess that explains why our clothes weren't in the wedding suite.

I cringed. Why did I have to remember that? Why didn't we order room service then? And worst of all, how did I end up so close to him when I woke up?

How fatal is it to pour bleach on my brain?

I was still unfortunately thinking these thoughts as I laid in bed, wide awake. I had exiled myself to the very edge of the mattress where I couldn't even brush against his arm hairs if I tried. Even so, James's flailing limbs found their way to me instead.

Eventually I did fall asleep, but--not too long after, I imagine--I was woken up by a brief moment of vertigo, then a sharp pain piercing through the crown of my head, then finally a slamming into my right shoulder.

I clutched my head, gasping. James's head peaked over the edge of the mattress, which I imagine couldn't have been too hard since he was practically already laying on my side of the bed. "Did you just fall off?"

I tried to laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the scene, but I kind of just sounded like I was crying.

The sheets shifted as James slid onto the ground beside me. "Hey are you alright? Can I see?" He helped me up and turned on the light. "Okay no blood at least."

"Can we get a cold compress please?" he says into the phone, "Yeah my wife hit her head. No she seems fine. A concussion test? Well we can-- Oh? Okay. Sure."

"What was that?" I asked.

James made me lay back on the bed with several pillows propping up my head--"In case there's internal bleeding." As if it would help. "They want to do a concussion test so we can't sue them."

"Oh. People do that?"

James shrugged. "How are you feeling?"

"It's still throbbing but definitely better than a minute ago."

"Sorry." James gave me an apologetic look. "I move a lot in my sleep, huh?"

"You better be sorry," I deadpanned. "You were practically dancing in your sleep."

"Aww no. Come here. Let me kiss it better."

I shoved my hands into his face while he laughed, arms reaching out to grab me. "You're not supposed to stress me out! I am injured!"

A knock came from the door.

"That must be them."

When James opened the door, there was a uniformed man with a cart. He introduced himself as Amir.

"Good evening, ma'am. How are you feeling?"

I answered Amir's questions while he checked my head and gave me the cold compress. To check my cognitive function, Amir asked about our photoshoots and some math problems I thought were funny. I don't think I was supposed to think they were funny, though, because both James and Amir gave me a weird look for laughing. After a few more questions, James ended chuckling along with me. Or was he laughing at me...

"For these next questions, can you please step out of the room, sir?"

"Yeah sure--"

"Wait," I stopped them, "Why would he need to?"

James awkwardly lowered his hand from the door handle while Amir raised an eyebrow. "Well, the questions were to make sure you aren't a victim of human traffiking or domestic abuse, but I don't think we'll be needing them."

It was my turn to look surprised. "Oh wow. Well I appreciate that you have that kind of protocol in place, but yeah I just hit my head." I mumbled the last part.

Amir nodded his head and grinned. "No need to be embarrased. It happens more often than you think with passionate couples."

It took me a second to understand what Amir meant as he got up to leave. Then, I flushed red. "That was not what happened."

Amir raised his hands as a surrender. "I believe you." Then he gave me one last grin before leaving.