Page 47 of Our Long Days
Chuckling, I swipe at the webs, careful of her septum piercing. “Nope, but you destroyed its home. Hope you’re proud.”
She smacks me in the chest. “Dick.”
I smirk, tugging her away from the Orb-weaver hanging overhead. The less she knows, the better. “You still want one if it comes with critters?”
“Of course.” She grins. “Buy only if you’re building it. Who knew my friend was so talented?”
Friend.
It’s exactly how I need her to perceive us, yet hearing her say it knocks the wind out of me.
I can’t act on these urges. She’s too young and full of life to be dragged down by whatever future lies on my horizon. Yes, she’s Pat’s sister, but for every day we spend together, that fact holds less and less weight. Whatever I’m feeling is simply the aftermath of our night together.
It’ll pass.
My body demands sleep,but it’s impossible to relax when the aural fullness fights to overthrow the dizziness, leaving me incapacitated.
The vertigo attack wasn’t out of nowhere; the high-pitched ringing yesterday was an omen.
Darkness is my friend, and the blackout curtains in my bedroom stave off any unnecessary discomfort while I ride this out.
Is it morning or night?
It’s a weekday, I know that much, meaning people are relying on me, but I’m no help to anyone in this state. I just need to call someone to tell them I’m out for the day, maybe two.
Vertigo attacks don’t occur often, but what they lack quantity, they make up for in quality. With them comes nausea.
Bathroom.
Phone.
Bed.
Three things.
I will my body and mind to cooperate. After, I’ll succumb to whatever they have planned for me. On legs like two pieces of overcooked noodles, I hobble my way toward my en suite. I almost trip over my work boots and stub my toe on the end ofthe bed, but eventually, the wood changes to cool tile under my feet.
Cracking an eye open, I spot my target, but one step has the world tilting.
Fuck, no.No.
Three seconds is all I’m given to find purchase on something. Anything.
Then, the floor comes zooming toward me, and everything goes black.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
florence
I try notto show my panic. A single drop causes the fear to spread like a wildfire. On the outside, I’m calm, but on the inside, the emotion wrenches its way through me. Saving face is partly for my benefit and mostly for those around me.
The day we lost dad, I drowned in it. It filled my lungs, wrapped its claws around my heart, and yet, my body was motionless as Patrick explained what happened while my devastated mother wailed beside me.
He was at the restaurant, up a ladder, when he had a catastrophic heart attack. That was all it took. No warning. No time for goodbye. A life so loved and cherished, snuffed out like that.
The grief and panic come in waves, spreading like frost on a windowpane.
There’s no off switch, no time to catch your breath.
