It was only supposed to be one night. We met at a wedding. He was hot. And I'd been in a year's drought.
He smiled. We got drunk. We flirted. We hooked up. I left early the next morning without saying good-bye. It was only meant to be a one-night stand. I didn't want the awkward morning-after moment. Not at all.
Then I went home for the weekend, and he was there - sitting on the couch and chatting with my dad. Turned out he was more than just a stranger. It turned out that my one-night stand was about to cause a whole heap of trouble. It turned out that it never just stops with one night.
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A lot of misunderstandings that take away from what meager story there is.