Kill me now.
Oh, but death wouldn’t come so easy, not for me and not today. Instead of a quick and painless end, I spent another five minutes bent over the toilet and hurling until I risked popping a blood vessel before I finally sat back, breathless and slightly feverish.
I didn’t feel any better but I stood and smoothed my skirt before taking a look at my pale reflection and splashing cold water on my face. It did nothing to soothe the anarchy in my belly and just as I finished and headed towards the door, another earthquake rocked my stomach.
And sent me straight back to the toilet.
“I’m going to die.” That was the only thought in my mind as I assumed the position and let the bile fly. Death was the only thing I welcomed at the moment as my stomach twisted and clenched into knots. Eventually relief came, not in the form of death but an empty stomach. “Oh sweet heavens above, thank you!”
Thirty minutes later I had fresh breath, splotchy skin and only a faint sign that I’d been puking my guts up for half an hour. I still felt like I’d woken up in a coffin and dug my way out and the day was just about over. “Olive, are you…holy crap girl you’re a hot mess!” Eva’s dark brows dipped in worry as she rushed over to me and put both hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I told her. “Maybe coming down with a bug or something.”
She stepped back instinctively before her face twisted into an apologetic grin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry. Keep your distance, I won’t be offended.”
“Maybe you should go home for the rest of the day? No offense, but the last thing we need is have our entire roster of clients out with the flu.” Eva kept her distance as she spoke and the argument died on my lips.
I didn’t want to infect anyone else and I was exhausted, too exhausted to finish the day. “Okay. You win.”
“Excellent! Feel better or don’t come in tomorrow,” she said in a sing-song voice and waved as she walked out of my office.
I didn’t need to be told twice so I shut down my laptop, shoved it in my work bag and dashed out of TFL as fast as I could. I didn’t even stop at the pharmacy because I kept salty crackers and ginger ale on hand thanks to my sensitive stomach.
After a hot shower, I changed into a comfortable pair of cotton pajamas and made my way to the kitchen where ginger ale and crackers were waiting for me. I carried them to the living room and curled up on the sofa where I planned to spend the rest of the evening. Alone.
Not that there was anyone to take care of me or worry about me, other than my business partners who happened to be my closest friends. “Well that’s a depressing thought,” I said into the silent room as I reached for my remote and surfed until I was pretty sure I exhausted the entire Netflix catalog. With nothing but boredom staring back at me, I chose an old reliable romantic comedy and got lost.
Well, I tried to get lost but my mind wouldn’t quit, wouldn’t stop thinking about what I ate that could have possibly made me so sick. I couldn’t stop the racing thoughts and I couldn’t quiet my mind so I cranked up the volume until the thoughts were just a near silent whisper.
“Well let’s just hope you’re not pregnant,” the heroine’s best friend said to her over dinner inside a luxury apartment she could never afford on her salary. The heroine of course was oh so shocked by her friend’s casually tossed out statement that her big doe eyes shone bright. Beautifully bright.
“Give me a break,” I shouted at the TV before realizing that maybe I was a little too invested in the story. “Wait! Crap! Oh no. No, no, no.” I shook my head so hard and so fast I made myself a little dizzy as I reached to the coffee table for my tablet, frantically pulling up my calendar to get the information I sought. “I can’t be pregnant and certainly not with Wyatt’s child. Absolutely not!”
I swiped page after page, day after day, for one month and then two months. The only thing I learned was that Eva was right, there had been a thousand red flags that Wyatt was all wrong for me but I was determined to ignore them. But it was all right there, laid out for anyone with half a brain to see it.
I hadn’t seen Wyatt in more than a month, two if you count the month since the break up. Hadn’t slept with him in close to three months, since the bathroom blow job that wasn’t. “I’m not pregnant!” I practically shouted the words at the empty room, excited that I wasn’t having my ex’s baby, a strange twist of events considering the same news would have devastated me months ago.