Why now? Why today, of all days, when everything has started so good? I was planning to have an amazing night, continuing what Malcolm and I started this morning. Then shit hit the fan and my body decided to revolt against me.
Maybe it was something I ate. Malcolm’s okay, but he had a salad where I didn’t. Was the chicken bad? Or did I suddenly develop an allergy to something? Could it be the flu, or something worse?
The timing sucks.
It’s disgusting, but I don’t care. I lean my cheek against the seat of the toilet, letting the cool porcelain hit my face.
“Please,” I whisper, not even sure if the gods of puking are listening. “Just stop. I’ve had enough.”
But the response I get isn’t what I want. Another wave of nausea.
Once I feel like everything is out, I pull a towel from the shelf under the sink and lay it on the floor, making myself a pseudo bed. I hear the door open, but I don’t budge.
“Bradley,” Malcolm calls, and I grunt in response. He steps into the bathroom, bags in hand, and kneels beside me. “Let me help you get up, changed and in bed.”
“No,” I tell him, swatting away his hand. “Just let me die here.”
He sets the bags on the floor before taking my arms, easing me up, until I’m standing.
“I’m just going to be back in here in like three minutes.”
“Nonsense. I got you some medicine. Paige just happens to be a PA, and I got her to send a prescription to the pharmacyfor some nausea medicine. That’s what took me so long, I was waiting for them to fill it.”
“You told her about me?” I ask, my voice weak as he sits me down on the edge of the bed, helping me to undress.
“No,” he murmurs. “I told her it was for me.”
Another wave hits me, but it’s not nausea. This is worse. His ex-wife knows he’s gay, and he still couldn’t tell her about me. Of course not, I’m just the hired date. The one helping him to get back the love of his life, and then I’ll be nothing more than an afterthought.
“Okay, just get under the blanket and let me get the medicine. I also got you some Gatorade, but just take sips of it.” He rushes off, not even noticing how his rejection affected me. Yes, he’s taking care of me, but is he only doing it because there’s nowhere else for me to go?
He sits down on the edge of the bed just as I pull the blanket up. “Here, just put it on your tongue and let it dissolve.” Malcolm hands me a pill and I do as he says, making a face at the taste. “Now take a sip.” He hands the open bottle to me and I lift it to my lips, letting the cold fluid hit my tongue, soothing my sore throat.
Malcolm places the lid back on the bottle, setting it on the nightstand.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I have a cold washcloth for your head. Just lay down and get some rest. I’m going to turn out the lights.”
I do as he says and my eyes are barely closed before I finally drift off to sleep.
Malcolm
My heart aches seeing him in pain. A perfect day turned horrible. I keep checking on him, knowing that if he gets worse, I’m taking him straight to the hospital.
Calling Paige for the prescription was easy. Telling her about Bradley was a little harder. I promised to tell her everything when I got home, and she finally relented. How do I tell my ex-wife I hired someone to help me get over my insecurities to win back my ex, but now I’m developing feelings for him too? But this isn’t a world where I can have my cake and eat it too. Jefferson made that perfectly clear when he broke up with me.
Was I going to tell him about Bradley? Of course. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I’m just not sure how he’s going to react to the news. About me having feelings now for both of them. I’ve not known Bradley long, but I can’t explain this sudden attraction.
My phone glares at me from my lap. Taking another glance at Bradley I see he’s fast asleep. It’s time to push myself to do what I need to.
Opening my messages, I create a group chat with the kids, my parents and Paige.
Me: I have something I need to tell all of you and I was hoping we could meet for dinner tomorrow night at my apartment. How does 6 sound?
My parents are older, but because of the kids they’ve become very familiar with texting, so I knew they would answer. I was also expecting the private message from Paige.
Paige: Are you really fucking doing it tomorrow?
