It’s such a reprieve to have him help me inside and under the covers that I even let him undress me. Fighting against my natural instinct to not allow someone to help me, I give in to it. I let myself see how nice it is to be taken care of for once.
“Get some sleep,” he says, kissing my cheek.
I was already halfway there when he said it.
I jolt up so suddenly, I’m still unsure if I’m awake. The pressure pushing up from my stomach is the only confirmation as I stumble into his bathroom.
Before I can lift the toilet seat, I’m spewing my last week of food into the bowl.
“Shit, Monty.” I hear Charlie run into the room, but I can’t turn my head to look at him, still exorcising my entire insides.
“I don’t know what to do,” he says, sounding just as far away as he did before.
Despite the sickness and the general ache of my body, rage still has a way to overcome me.
“Tell me what to do.”
I want to tell him to go to hell. I want to tell him that I should never have thought that I could rely on him for anything more than good sex. I want to scream at myself for believing that he would be there for me the way I need.
Why should I have to tell him what to do? Why do I have to explain to him how to help me? He hasn’t known how to thus far, and he just proved to me that he never will.
“Leave,” I yell in between hurls.
I don’t know what I expected, but when I hear the door close, I know it’s doing so on the small opening of me considering leaning on someone else.
I throw up until it’s only stomach bile coming out. Still, my throat keeps constricting, causing me to gag and spit.
I want to lie on his floor and die, but I also don’t want to be here at all. Having gotten throw-up on my shirt, I take it off and let the cool tiles calm me a little. I don’t know when I doze off, but I wake up to him knocking on the door.
“Are you still throwing up?”
I don’t answer, so he opens the door.
“I don’t know why you can’t just tell me how to help you.”
“You can help me by taking me home.”
“Monty, you can’t be by yourself.”
“Take me home, Charlie!” I’m well past the point of talking about this.
Just like when I told him to leave, he doesn’t argue with me. He just helps me into the car and takes me back to my dad’s. I wouldn’t have even let him do that, but I’m scared to fall asleep in the back of a cab.
Still too pissed to be reasonable, I refuse to let him help me into the house. He slams his car door, like I’ve done something to him, and then speeds off before I even make it to the porch.
When I close the door behind me, I fall to my knees and crawl to the bathroom. Stripping down to just my panties, I lie on the floor and let everything overwhelm me.
Tears leak down my cheeks, pooling in my collarbone. My breath is ragged and shallow. I still have a hand pressed to my stomach as I fight the urge to spill whatever is left inside of me.
I don’t think there is much of anything left in me, including the ability to care. I could be overreacting, but all it took was one day for him to disappoint me.
I was right when I told my dad that all I need is him and Farrah. I’ll be damned if I change my mind on that again.
Chapter 16
Thesoundofknockingwakes me up. Freezing and tired, I decide I’m going to ignore it and continue to die here. Rolling over, I use the floor mat as a blanket, incapable of getting up to get a real one.
When the knocking continues and my phone starts ringing at the same time, I croak out a cry.
