I was on the floor, curled around a cleaning bucket I’d pulled from under the sink, when Layla’s alarm went off. It was now six. I’d been on the floor for hours, and it didn’t seem to be fading anytime soon.
I didn’t know what to do. I’d taken the entire past weekend off from my night shift. Even with Layla’s help, I couldn’t afford to take more than a few days off.
Lurching up, my stomach clenched, and I dry-heaved over the bucket. Fuck my life, there was no way I could go in. Standing with the bucket hugged to my chest, I made my way out of my room, knocking on Layla’s door.
She opened it wearing only shorts and a bra, a curling iron dangling from her hand. Her eyes widened when she took in my disheveled sight.
“What the hell, Mads?”
“I think I might have food poisoning.”
“No shit. I told you that taco salad looked fucking iffy. You look like you’re on death’s door. Like, you legit look awful.”
I looked up from my new plastic best friend to my old best friend, glaring with all the muster I could gather. “Thanks.”
She set her curling iron on her side table and grabbed a top to pull over herself. “You’re calling in to work…right?”
“Obviously,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes together and trying not to gag in her face. “Can you take Jamie to school on your way to work?”
“Yeah, I’ll handle it, babe, go back to bed.”
She didn’t need to tell me twice. I formed my body into a fetal position on my bed and called Evaline to let her know I wouldn’t make it in.
It’d taken almost two hours before my stomach settled enough to finally venture out. It was either risk inducing another puke fest or die by severe thirst. I chose the first option. It felt like my entire mouth had been invaded by a colony of cotton balls.
Water in hand, I shuffled to the couch to prop myself up, staring at the blank screen of the TV and wishing with all my heart we had cable.
Rap, rap, rap.
I shot forward, knocking my—thankfully empty—bucket to the ground and almost dumping my water glass across my lap. The sudden movement had spots dancing across my vision, and a wave of dizziness washed over me. I had to plant my head between my knees to ward off the overwhelming sensation of passing out.
Rap, rap, rap.
“Madison?” A voice asked, muffled behind the wood.
Neck still bent between my legs, I allowed myself a moment to wail. Why me? It’d been days since he was last here. Why would he choose today of all days? I could ignore him and pretend I wasn’t here, but my Jeep was parked out front. Fuck.
Pulling myself off the couch with painful slowness, I dragged my feet to the door. My head was swirling, but I took a steadying breath and unlocked it. All I needed to do was keep my shit together until he left. I could do that. I’d given birth, I could control the urge to vomit in this man’s vicinity.
“Madison?”
“Garrett.”
“I was getting ready to head out when I noticed your Jeep still here. Everything okay?”
He tilted his head, trying to see me through the two-inch crack I’d allowed. He was dressed for work and had a lunch pail sitting on the porch next to him. My stomach rolled harder.
“Yep.” One-word answers. I could handle one-word answers.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He glared at me, and even through the gap, it seared into my skin. “I just don’t feel well. Something I ate. It’s nothing.” I settled a hand over my middle, breathing in and out.