CHAPTER 28
Claire
I have a splitting headache,my limbs feel like they’re made of lead, and even though I’m just waking up, I want to sleep for an eternity.
But as I slowly blink open my eyes, I look around my bedroom and see…Ryan, sitting on the floor and leaning against my bed.
Ryan is here.
Why is Ryan here?
He turns and looks at me. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he says softly. “How are you feeling?”
“What are you doing here?” I try to sit up, but my headache sends me right back down to my pillow with a groan.
“Take it easy,” he says. He stands, and his fingers start massaging my scalp. Oh, man, does that feel good. “I’ve been here all day. You…you don’t remember?”
I rack my brain for any recollection, but I’m drawing a blank. “What day is it? What time is it?”
“It’s four in the afternoon on Monday.”
I give my head a little shake. “Huh?”
“I guess your mom wasn’t kidding about the NyQuil,” he murmurs.
NyQuil. Now it’s coming back to me. I did take some last night around midnight, when I couldn’t sleep from the headache and knew I had to teach in the morning.
Oh, no. Teaching.
“Did I miss work?!” I ask Ryan, my voice a lot higher-pitched than usual.
He chuckles and kneels next to the bed. “You did. But everything’s fine. That’s how I knew something was wrong, so I grabbed the spare key in the planter and let myself in. I called Grace and Christopher and let them know, and Janet too, so everything’s taken care of.”
“I’venevermissed a day of work.”
“I know.” His fingers keep massaging my head, soothing my mind from the panic. I can already feel my heart rate slowing down. “But everything’s fine. You can rest.”
I want to stay awake. I want to ask more questions and understand what’s going on. But I’m sotired.And his fingers feel like heaven. My eyes flutter shut and I drift off to sleep.
When I wake again,it’s pitch dark, and I feel an insane urge to use the restroom. My head hurts, but not as bad as before. My nose is completely stuffed, and my body aches, but I swing my legs over the edge of my bed and stumble in the dark toward the bathroom.
“Claire?” Ryan’s voice calls out from my living room.
Ryan. He’s still here.
“Yeah?” I call back.
“You okay? Do you need help?”
“Nope. Definitely not. Just going to the bathroom.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
I reach the bathroom and turn on the light. After handling my business, I wash my hands and get a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
Oh, goodness. I look like a wreck. My hair is partly in a messy bun, but about a third of it has come loose and hangs by my neck. I’m wearing a fluffy purple robe over a sweater and pajama pants, all mismatching, my eyes are bloodshot and puffy, and my stuffy nose is clown red.
Fabulous.
