Page 22 of Austen Persuaded

“Raf, do I have a fever again? Am I sick? I feel like I have a heavy weight on my chest, on all of me really, holding me down. I don’t want to get out of bed. But when I sleep, my dreams are … dark.” I sniffed. “I must be sick.”

He came very close and then reared back, pinching his nose again. “Well, you badly need to brush your teeth, but I don’t smell booze. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t drunk.”

I glared at him. “I wish. I asked Rainn to pick me up some vodka yesterday, but he seems to have conveniently forgotten about it.” I crossed my arms and frowned. “Do you think I’m feverish again? Another viral thing or the same one?”

His knowing look told me I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. But it was better to know, right? “Uh, well, I’m not a doctor, but I’m pretty sure these are not viral symptoms. It’s called depression.”

“What?” I blinked a few times. “Oh. I guess so.” I sat up, running my fingers through my rat’s nest of hair. “But I’m having some crazy thoughts, maybe delirium, fever dreams? Maybe you should check my temperature just in case?”

His lips twitched, but he nodded and searched the nearby table for the thermometer.

A minute later, he pronounced me fever-free, but instead of smiling, his look was full of sympathy. “Do you want to talk, Annie?”

“What’s there to say, Raf? My life is a mess right now. I’m having a pity party, a party for one. Something stupid like that. You know everything already, nothing more to talk about. Just get me the vodka I asked for.”

“Are you sure, Annie?” As he studied me, I had to avert my eyes. He was trying to see into my soul, and I couldn’t let that happen.

After all, there’s probably nothing there.

“Of course I’m sure,” I said, starting to lie back down. “It’s just—”

Suddenly my phone rang somewhere nearby. It was on the bed somewhere rather than on the nightstand. I felt around for it with my hand. Lately, I’d been more apt to let calls go to voicemail, but taking this call—any call—might be better than continuing this conversation with Rafael. However, it was proving hard to find the phone. The caller tried a second time, and I attempted again to locate the phone, this time finally finding it wedged between the headboard and the mattress.

My face fell when I saw the name on the screen. Jacqueline.

Rafael saw it at the same time. “Annie,no.”

I felt torn, but at the moment, talking to my mother felt like a better option than dealing with Rafael’s prying and eventually finding out the source of my current emotional strife. “She’s my mother,” I whispered just before answering the call.

He shook his head with a pained expression and turned to leave the room.

“Hi, M–mother,” I managed, my voice already shaking.

“Anastasia, why have you been so difficult to reach?”

I swallowed with some effort. My mother wouldn’t understand, yet … “I had a really terrible week, Mom. I was sick, a man betrayed me, I quit—”

“Anastasia, calm yourself!” she exclaimed, her tone harsh. “I didnotraise you to be hysterical. How do you think it makes me feel,hearing you speak like this, and after making it so hard to contact you!”

I was at a loss for words, as usual.

“I’m astounded that you could be so careless with my feelings,” my mother continued. “Though perhaps I should be accustomed to it by now.”

“I’m sorry, Mother,” I heard myself whisper.

After some silence, my mother spoke in a more delicate tone. “There, there. I forgive you, as I always do. But you can’t expect men to always be so forgiving, my darling, which is probably why your man has left you …” and on she went.

She knows nothing of the situation with Brandon, but she assumes I’m at fault. I should be livid, but … could she be right? Did I somehow push him into other women’s arms? Was that even possible?

Some saner part of me wanted to ask why on earth I was letting my mother get into my head at all, but it was drowned out.

“See, this is a perfect example where you could improve, Anastasia. I’ve called you to tell you my news, yet you’ve monopolized the conversation, haven’t you? And I’ve allowed it because I am a kind, adoring mother. It’s always been my weakness, I suppose.”

I bit my tongue, hoping I didn’t draw blood.

“I called to give you formal notice of our visit in the near future.”

“We?”

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