I'm not sure I've got the stomach to eat anything. I feel better, but still wobbly and a little bit nauseous. I'm going to ask in a moment whether he minds if I take some painkillers, but for now I accept the drink, "thank you."

It's very sweet. What's in it? If it contains a lot of sugar, I'll probably feel worse after drinking it. Which reminds me, "didn't I have dinner? How much did I drink? I don't really remember, sorry."

I'm having some trouble holding his gaze. My mental image of last night isn't exactly clear; and of what there is, it's not exactly flattering. I talked nonsense, skipped out on the taxi fare, and fell asleep on him. I'm sure I had plenty of other opportunities to make an idiot of myself. I was supposed to be taking care of him and instead I left him to babysit me all evening. Helping to clean up the place is the least I could do after this embarrassment.

Wait. I wasn't sick, was I?