Page 98 of Catch You

I’m ushered toward the couch and drop into the corner when encouraged to do so. Brooke pulls the blanket from the back and throws it over my legs.

“I’m going to make you a coffee,” she says softly. “Would you like anything to eat?”

I shake my head. I don’t have the stomach for it.

She nods and backs out of the room.

Their whispered voices float through the air, but I don’t know what they’re saying as I stare at the blank TV in front of me.

It’s like life is going on around me while someone’s hit my pause button.

I’m exhausted, but if I close my eyes, her gaunt face is all I see. If I keep them open, then I’m reminded of what’s happened.

There’s no relief.

None at all.

After a few minutes or what could have been hours, Brooke and Reese join me once more.

“Here you go. I know you said you didn’t want it, but I made you a sandwich. You really should try to eat something.”

I nod.

“Just relax. Don’t worry about what comes next. We’ve got everything under control.”

I nod again.

A concerned look passes between them, but they don’t say anything. They just sit with me in silence. It’s all I need.

At some point, Reese gives me a hug and says she’ll come back tomorrow. Brooke orders takeout from our favorite restaurant, and I poke it around the plate for a while before giving up and curling back up under the blanket.

I end up passing out with my head in Brooke’s lap as she gently plays with my hair like my mom used to when I was a kid.

The next thing I know, it’s dark and Brooke is telling me that we should go to bed. I allow her to drag me from the couch and up the stairs. She pulls the sheets back and tucks me in.

“You want me to stay?” she whispers when I reach for her hand.

“Please,” I whisper, and she immediately climbs into bed behind me.

“Everything will be okay, Harlow. I promise.”

I want to shout. I want to scream. How can anything be okay? Everyone has left me.

Everyone.

I drift off a few times,but when Brooke stirs a few hours after the sun rises, I’m staring at the wall in a daze.

“Harlow,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“How are you doing?”

I roll onto my back so I can stare at the ceiling for a change of scenery. My stomach rolls.

“Fuck,” I bark, jumping from the bed and racing toward my bathroom to throw up.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Brooke asks from the doorway when I’ve finished and slumped back against the wall.

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