Page 143 of If You Give an Artist a Killer Muse

Fuck, I’m turning into mush. I need to control myself.

“Hey, Rurik?” Briar asks quietly after a few minutes of comfortable silence of us just scrolling through our phones.

“Yes?”

“Where did you go the past few days?” She asks, dropping her phone on her lap to focus on me. “You disappeared. I thought something happened.”

Oh.

Right.

Fuck.

I don’t know if I want to tell her about my heart condition. Something did happen to me, and I was stuck in the hospital for a couple of days. Then, I was basically on house arrest with my mum as my prison guard.

“I was sick,” I say, not really lying. “I wasn’t feeling well, so I turned off my phone so no one could bother me.”

“Oh,” Briar murmurs, looking at my Adam’s apple. She sighs, “Are you okay now?”

I raise a brow and look at her. “With the amount of times we fucked? I hope so.”

She laughs, and the sound is so fucking beautiful it makes my heart skip a beat. Figuratively, of course. I never want my heart to skip a beat again.

“What about you?” I ask. “I texted you once I felt better, but you never replied.”

Briar’s eyes furrow in confusion. “You… Did?”

Why is she confused? I did text her back twice or so. I know because I checked for notifications from her every day, and nothing came.

I glance at her.

Fuck.

Her eyes are blank again.

What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Briar?” My tone is slightly panicky as I shake her shoulder with my hand.

She blinks and clears her throat. She grins up at me, but this time, I can’t help but notice how her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s forced.

My eyes narrow. I recognize a fake smile when I see one. Only because it’s the same smile, I show my mum every time she says there’s hope for my bad heart.

“Sorry, I thought… Nevermind.” Briar mutters, laughing as if she’s embarrassed that I caught her zoning out a second ago. “I must have missed your texts when I lost my phone.”

“I’m assuming you found it?”

“No. I remember putting it on the couch, but that's it.”

Frowning, I get up and head to her living room, ignoring Briar's confusion. I drop to my knees and bend down to look under the couch. There it is. Sighing, I grab her phone and see it's dead. I walk back to the bedroom and toss it to her.

“I found it under the couch,” I say.

“I can't believe I didn't think to look before getting a new one,” Briar shakes her head. “I've just been dealing with so much shit that my mind has been a bit foggy.”

“The whole week?” I press on.

“Yup,” She says.

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