Eastern Lights (Compass 2)

I just needed a little bit more time.

I had a doctor’s appointment coming up after my trip to Kentucky, so I was doing my best to push through. To enjoy the current moments of happiness with Connor. To live. To pretend for a while that my life was normal.

Yet, that morning, I couldn’t continue lying to myself.

My body ached and my head was clouded. The chills that found me were the worst part. I could hardly sit up in bed. Every little movement I made felt as if someone was slamming into me.

“No,” I whispered to myself, unable to open my eyes because that brought about another wave of dizzy spells.

Time.

Just give me a little bit more time.

Connor and I were supposed to fly out to Kentucky soon, and I didn’t want to cancel the trip. Not only was it important for the article I was writing, it was important to me. I wanted to see him in his hometown, wanted to meet the people he grew up with, and I wanted to walk the streets that raised him. I couldn’t miss it.

I placed my hands on the edge of my bed and pulled myself up to a sitting position. As my feet hit the wooden floor, I groaned. Everything hurt. I knew most people couldn’t understand that level of pain, but just sitting up felt like the ultimate chore to me. I wanted to crawl back into a ball and sob. The intensity of the pain made it hard to even breathe in a normal pattern.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay,” I repeated to myself, borrowing the words Connor had given to me time and time again over the past few weeks. Even though I said the words, the aches made them feel unrealistic.

I tried to push myself up from the mattress, but I failed. I felt weak, tired. So very tired. Tears formed in the backs of my eyes as they remained shut, and they slowly began to fall down my cheeks.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay,” I repeated, feeling as if I were going to vomit from the way my mind spun.

I began coughing into my hand, trying to clear my throat. Trying to make a passage way for more air to inflate within my lungs.

I hated this. I hated my heart and how it was quitting on me. I hated that I’d gone so long feeling good, only to have my life turn upside down in the span of two years. I hated that the good days always made the bad ones feel like complete hell.

I hated knowing that more bad days were on their way.

Time.

I need more time.

I was going to be nauseous. It was only a matter of time before I was hugging the toilet seat. The spinning in my head made that painfully clear. The last thing I wanted to do was throw up as Connor was in his office having a meeting.

Connor.

Time.

We needed more time.

To my surprise, he came into the bedroom with a big smile on his face. In one hand, he had a box, and in the other, he had a green drink. “Morning, sunshine. I finished my meeting early and ran down the street to get you some breakfast. I know you’re healthier than me, so I got you a green drink and an omelet.”

The thought of eating anything at that moment made my stomach turn in a way stomachs shouldn’t be able to turn.

The second he caught sight of me, a heavy look of worry filled his face. “Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”

I must’ve looked hideous.

“Hey there,” I said, thinking I’d head over to thank him, but instead I began to experience a dizzy spell as I attempted to walk. Connor hurriedly set the box and drink on the dresser and rushed to help me stand.

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Don’t be,” he replied, lowering me back down to the bed. He then kneeled in front of me, looking as perfect as he always did. Christ, I felt so embarrassed. If I looked anywhere near as bad as I felt, he probably thought I was on the verge of death.

Maybe I was.

“What happened?” he asked. “What can I do?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s fine. I just woke up feeling a bit off. That’s all.” I didn’t want to go into the full scope of what was really happening. It all seemed too much, and the last thing I wanted from Connor was for him to worry about me.

He rolled up his sleeves and walked toward the bathroom. Within seconds, he came out with a warm hand towel and placed it on my forehead.

The warmth it brought me soothed me more than I’d thought it would as I kept my eyes shut. “Thanks,” I said, trying my hardest not to cry. “It’s probably just a cold.”

“We were in the rain a few days ago for a long period. Damn. I should’ve taken you inside. This is my fault.”