“Go away,” Felix replied miserably.
I stopped, stunned. “What?”
“I don’t want you to see me like this. I mean--” He sobbed again. “Hear me.”
“Felix,” I began gently, “can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No!” he cried.
I knew a lie when I heard one, especially from my boyfriend. But what was he trying to hide, and why?
I tried a different angle. “Look, River’s wondering why you’re in the stall crying. Why don’t you come out and tell him you’re okay?”
His sobbing stopped. A few sniffles preceded a retching sound that made me recoil.
“Felix?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Elijah!” he cried. The terror in his voice was hard to miss. “I barely touched the food, but I suddenly felt so sick.”
My brows furrowed. “Did you actually eatanyof it?”
He hiccuped. “No.”
A doubt that lurked in my mind seeped to the forefront like a pot of spilled ink.
“Felix,” I asked gently. “You didn’t touch your food and you only had a small sip of wine. Is there anything you ate earlier today that might have caused this reaction?”
He let out a meek whine. “No, nothing out of the usual. And I haven’t eaten for hours anyway . . .”
The doubt gripped me. There was one possible explanation for this--except it shouldn’t have evenbeenpossible. Still, once the idea was planted in my mind, it nagged me relentlessly. Out of every imaginable option, it made the most sense.
“You know,” I said. “Food aversions this strong and sudden are usually linked to pregnancy.”
There was a cold silence on the other side of the door before Felix muttered, “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. It’s a common symptom.”
“You know that’s not it!” Felix snapped. The anger in his voice was laced with fear. “Maybe I’m allergic, or . . .”
“You said you’ve never eaten duck before. And besides that, you didn’t even eat a single bite of it. Even if you were allergic, the illness wouldn’t be so sudden.”
Felix moaned in agony. “I don’t know. I just want it to stop.”
“If you feel okay enough to move, then let’s go home,” I offered. “Maybe you’ll feel better with some rest.”
Felix sounded miserable. “I’m so sorry, Eli. I ruined everything.”
“No, you didn’t,” I said sharply. “Things happen. You can’t control your body when it gets violently ill. It’s not like you wanted to get sick.”
He sniffled. “No. I just feel bad for causing a problem.”
“That’s enough, Felix,” I said gently. I hated hear him talk so lowly of himself. More than anything, I just wanted him to be healthy and safe. To hell with the fancy restaurant if it was making him sick, for whatever reason.
The stall door creaked open and Felix rested his damp face against my chest. His tears sank into my shirt.
“You’re not mad, are you?” he asked in a small voice.
“Mad? No!” I cried. “Why would I be mad, sweetie?”
He mumbled into my shirt like he was trying to bury himself. “I made everything about me. I wish you hadn’t come in. I would have come back out in a few minutes and everything would have been fine.”
“Stop,” I said firmly. “I don’t want to hear any more of this nonsense. You’re sick, and it’s not your fault in the slightest. Understand?”
He nodded but didn’t reply.
That was good enough for now.
