Page 54 of Storm

“How?How in the world could you have possibly thought you were helping? In what world would keeping somethingthatpersonal from me be helping me? And I know you had to have read every single one of them, so you know exactly why she was trying to get in touch with me. “

Sandra is full on crying now, unable to answer me. I don’t give a fuck. She does her best to explain, but I can barely understand. Her point comes across, though.

“I-I thought she was s-s-scamming you. She was so r-r-rude, and I didn’t w-want that for you!”

I’m sure Miriamwasrude after leaving multiple messages without a response. “I’m sure she was, but I don’t care. It wasn’t your decision to make. Now, while I one hundred percent havegrounds to fire you, I’m not planning to right now because you don’t have anything else damaging on your record. Rest assured, this incident is absolutely going in your file and I’ll be reporting it to HR as soon as you walk out of here. Tread lightly, Miss Burns. Do not cross me again or you’ll be out on your ass faster than you realize. Get your shit and leave today. You can come back tomorrow once you’ve composed yourself.”

She scrambles from her chair and rushes for the door. Just before she leaves, I call out, “And Miss Burns?”

With teary eyes, she turns to me with a hopeful look. I have no problems crushing them under my heel. “I’m not a stupid man and I’m aware you have an infatuation with me.” My chin lower while I glare at her. “Get rid of it. I’m not interested.”

Her lower lip trembles before she rushes from my office. I listen as murmured voices ask her what she did and what happened, but she says nothing. I imagine she won’t tell a soul, but I always follow through on my promises.

Picking up the phone as soon as she flees her workspace, I call HR and file a grievance. After finishing with them, I spend the rest of my day focused on clearing tasks from my desk until it’s well after six in the evening.

I’ve carried the information packets from Miriam’s appointment with me since the day we went, and I pull the nutrition guide out, setting it on my desk to read over. Saying fuck it, I fold the paper in half and shove it in my pocket. Gathering my things, I leave the station and drive over to the grocery store immediately.

I have this antsy feeling inside of me that just won’t go away. Providing the foods she needs to help with her blood pressure has been riding me hard, so I’m going to take a risk and go shopping.

It’s not long before I’m standing in front of her apartment door, knocking with one hand while holding half a dozen grocerybags in the other. The door is whipped open only a few breaths later, then Miriam is standing before me, wide-eyed, hair wild, and… green?

She slaps her hand over her mouth, then rushes away, leaving me standing in her doorway. Walking inside, I set the bags on the ground just before I hear her heaving and gagging on the far side of her apartment.

“Fuck,” I mutter, then rush to the bathroom, where I find her on her knees in front of the toilet. “Christ, Miri. Are you okay?” I ask, quickly settling behind her and gathering her hair so it’s out of her way.

I feel like an ass asking her questions because obviously she can’t answer. She jerks violently and vomits into the toilet over and over again. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes and I feel just awful for her.

Rubbing her back, I murmur comforting words as she continues to be ill, getting rid of every last ounce of food she ate today. She’s crying between bouts of throwing up, but I keep a constant commentary that it’s okay, thatshe’sokay.

Finally, after what seems like an hour, she sits back on her heels and sucks in a hitched breath. “Sorry.” Her voice is raspy, and I want to curl her into my lap to comfort her.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Are you sick, or is this pregnancy related?”

“Fucking baby…” Her words trail off and she lays her head on her arm resting on the toilet seat.

Standing, I dig through her cupboard until I find a washcloth. Wetting it, I dab her forehead, then place it in her hand so she can wipe her mouth. “What can I do for you right now?”

“Water,” she croaks out, then gags, but thankfully, doesn’t throw up again.

Hurrying to the kitchen, I find ice in her freezer, then fill up a tall glass and bring it to her. She swallows it down quickly, then asks me to leave so she can brush her teeth and put herself back together.

I wait patiently in the hallway until she walks out. Eyeing me warily, she seems embarrassed, but pushes past it. “Why are you here?”

“I brought?—”

A knocking on the door cuts me off and we both look toward the entrance. “Dios mio,” she mutters, then rushes to the door. I follow behind her and note that she doesn’t check to see who it’s first before whipping the door open. “Cristián. What are you doing here?”

Analyzing the situation quickly, I stop myself from becoming protective when I notice the similar features between Miriam and the man standing in front of her.

“I’m sorry,hermana. I was worried you wouldn’t be here. Why aren’t you in class?”

Letting him inside, she says, “My class was cancelled. Emergency for my professor. What the hell, Cristián? It’s like a three-hour bus ride over here. What the hell is going on?”

He only notices me briefly before flying into an explanation, completely in Spanish, as he waves his arms around. Miriam’s frown grows deeper the longer he speaks. After putting the food I bought into her refrigerator, I finally interrupt them.

“Miriam. What’s going on?”

Both of them look at me as if they forgot I was here. Her brother is checking me over as if I’m a threat, but says nothing. She elbows him, then explains. “One of my brothers stole money from him and there was a huge blow out at home. He got pissed and came here to cool down.” Then to Cristián, she adds, “Which would have been nice to knowahead of time.Showing up unannounced is stupid. What if I wasn’t here?”

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