We get to Emilio’s in town and the parking lot’s packed, as expected. There aren’t a ton of restaurants around here. I grab Addison’s hand before we head towards the door. I notice her body language is different immediately, she’s stiffer. I watch her take a few deep breaths of the cold air. Squeezing her hand in mine, I notice her grip is loose.
“You okay?” I ask gently.
She nods. She’s lying. She’s not breathing.
“Maybe we just wait another minute before we go in?” I pull her off to the side. Away from the door and windows. We face each other and I know she’s not going to look at me. I know she’s mentally fighting her mind to stay calm so she doesn’t get sick.
She tilts her chin up to the sky, clearing her airway, and takes in a breath through her slightly ajar lips. Her eyes are delicate. I can’t see much of them in the darkness, but I can see them glistening with unshed tears she’s trying so hard not to let out.
“Take your time.”
She shakes her hands slowly in front of her like it’s going to help stop the ride.
“Ijust…I don’t know,” she says.
“You wanna get back in my truck?”
“I just…I think it’s the fact that it’s Valentine’s Day. It feels like a bigger deal and—”
“It’s just a day, sweetheart.”
She doesn’t say anything, just nods. Her face pales and she starts gagging.
I spin around and coax her back to my truck with a hand on the small of her back.
She throws up once onto the concrete. I rub her back and open her door to get her some water and a napkin.
She climbs in and I shut the door for her before heading to my side. She’s holding her head in her hands, her elbows on her legs.
“Addison,” I say, “it’s okay.” I reach for her, running my fingers over her back.
“Just…take me home,” she says.
“Can you look at me first?” I ask steadily.
She sits up and her eyes flick over to me, though I know she doesn’t want to.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I’ve never gotten this anxious with you, Wesley. I don’t understand.”
“Yes you have. Plenty of times.”
“When?” She crosses her arms.
“Baby, you had a few moments on our trip to Billings.”
She looks out the window. Her shoulders relax. “But I didn’t throw up,” she mutters.
“You had Dramamine in you.” I remind her. “Why don’t I go in and order us something to go? We can eat it at your house?”
“Huh,” she sighs.
“Don’t be upset, please,” I say softly.
“But I told you I wanted to go out, and now I can’t, and I just—”
“Would you stop? It’s fine. I don’t care, babe. I don’t.”
