Chapter 27
ZOE
“Spencer…” I croaked.
It hurt. My lip cracked as I spoke and I could taste the metallic flavour instantly. My throat felt like it was lined with sandpaper. Scratchy, burning, and sore all at the same time. I blinked hard. My eyes were crusted with sleep but I had to get my focus. Spencer was in my bedroom. Running my hand through my hair, my fingers caught in a knot. My eyes dropped.
“Pippi…” the soft sound of his voice warmed me.
“What…why are you here? I don’t…I don’t…” I spluttered incoherently. I could barely form words, let alone whole sentences.
“You weren’t answering your phone, so I?”
I couldn’t stop myself. I vaulted from under the covers and straight into Spencer’s arms.
“Whoa…” He laughed but he caught me, and not for a moment did I feel like he was going to drop me. He never would.
“Thank you,” I whispered before I buried my face in his shoulder and the waterworks started. After a couple of minutes of shaking, sobbing, and generally looking like a fool, I wiped my eyes before glancing up to meet Spencer’s worried gaze.
“Pippi…you know I love you but…well, there’s something I need to tell you.”
Spencer’s words rocked me to the core. I felt myself tense up and in the same moment Spencer’s arms tightened around me like a steel band holding me in place. I wanted to run away, but he held firm. I wasn’t going anywhere.
I felt the chuckle move through him before it bubbled from his throat. His belly shook and it was okay. Nothing he could say would be any worse than my imagination led me believe. “Don’t look so scared, Pippi…it’s just, well…you stink. I mean, really bad.”
I giggled violently, rocking us both.
“Okay?”
“Okay. Maybe I’ll just go have a shower.”
“Maybe you should.” Spencer smiled as he kissed my cheek and slipped me from his lap before slapping me on the butt. I squawked and headed for the bathroom.
Shutting the door behind me, I saw my reflection in the mirror and physically recoiled. Knowing that Spencer had seen me in this state made me ill. My hair was oily and matted and hadn’t seen a brush in over a week. My skin had this weird yellow tinge to it. The scab on my forehead was starting to itch and I realised it was time my stitches came out. I should have gone to a doctor sooner, I was just too damn tired. Running my tongue over my teeth, I was embarrassed by how furry they were. Cupping my hand over my mouth, I breathed out and smelt my breath. I’m amazed I didn’t pass out at the putrid stench.
Stepping into the shower, I was determined to wash away all the grime and pity that had built up. After scrubbing, shaving, exfoliating, and forcing away the embarrassment, I felt human. Almost.
I don’t know how long I stood under the water but it just felt so good. Strangely, when it cooled, I still didn’t feel the compulsion to get out. I just wasn’t ready to face reality. Knowing Spencer was standing in my apartment and I was hiding in the shower didn’t make it any easier. I couldn’t even remember what state I’d left the place.
Shutting off the water, I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself. I wiped away the condensation from the mirror. Running through my mind was the last week. I’d done nothing. I remembered driving home, my chest aching with each kilometre I put between us. I recall stumbling through the door, dropping my suitcase, calling in sick, and falling into bed. That was about it. I didn’t remember the last time I’d eaten or even had a drink. As the thought crossed my mind, my stomach chose that moment to growl obnoxiously. Up until now I hadn’t even felt hungry. I just hadn’t had the energy or desire to get out of bed.
“Come on, Zoe, breakfast’s ready…” Spencer’s deep voice echoed through the door.
Dragging the brush through my hair, I slipped into my bedroom and yanked on some clothes. Dressed in yoga pants and a baggy shirt, I shuffled into the lounge room. I knew Spencer must have done some cleaning while I was in the bathroom because I barely recognised my own apartment.
“What’d you do?”
“What do you mean?” he taunted as he pulled out a chair at the counter for me, sliding a bowl filled with muesli and yoghurt in front of me.
“My…apartment?” I questioned through a mouthful of crunchy muesli.
“Just tidied up a bit,” he shrugged, infuriating me. He could be so damn humble it was exasperating.
“Just tell me, Spencer!”
“It was nothing, really. Just opened some windows, took the rubbish out, stripped your bed, and tossed the sheets in the machine. Just the basics.”
“Why?”
