Page 35 of Fragile Touch (Fragile 1)
“I only heard a couple of words. So, I can’t say for sure.”
Her brain got quiet and she felt that dread start to creep up.
Maybe I’m just in denial that he has a girlfriend and...he and I...
“No.” She sat up with a start. “If she was a girlfriend, she would be over here more often.”
He goes out a lot. Maybe he just goes to her place more often.
Lillian let out a moan and folded her body over her knees. “This can’t be happening.” Her head felt light and the world began to spin. “Please, not now. Not a flare-up right now. I have got to stop thinking about this.”
But the flare-up was already in full force. Her insides burned like they were in a kiln and she felt a pressure build up in her core. She stood, hunched over, cursing in her mind as she hobbled to the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later she cooled off, and the nausea finally went away. She deemed herself safe to go back and lie on the couch.
Please, just shut up, she demanded of her thoughts as she weakly pulled a blanket up to her shoulders. Black Cat came over and curled up against her chest, licking her chin with his rough tongue.
“I’m okay, kitty. I’m okay.” She stroked the cat’s back until he put his head down. His body was so warm, his fur so soft. Lillian put her arm around him and closed her eyes.
Just a rest until my energy comes back, she thought. Within a few seconds, she dropped off to sleep.
SOMETHING BRUSHED AGAINST her nose and she jerked awake, staring right into the butt of Black Cat. He turned to look at her innocently and meowed once.
“Supper time, I know.” Ever so slowly, she rolled onto her back and touched her stomach. Poor thing, she thought, oddly sad for her organs. There’s nothing to worry about. No reason to get sick.
Under the thick blanket she had broken a sweat. It dripped down the middle of her chest and she wiped it away. “Food for you, then shower for me,” she told the cats, who pawed at each other on the floor. Eventually she got to her feet and scooped food into the cats’ bowls.
“Why do you two have to overeat?” she asked, watching them leisurely stalk over. “If you were like other cats, I would only have to feed you once a day and you’d eat as you need it. But no, you two are foodies, huh?” They aren’t as fat as they used to be. That’s an accomplishment.
Suddenly she remembered about the party next door. From the kitchen she couldn’t hear anything, and breathed a sigh of relief. Still holding her stomach, she made it to the front door and opened it a crack. By the light of the street lamp she saw that five cars were lined up in front of Cayden’s house, the bright blue one still parked halfway into her lot.
Lillian felt herself getting upset and stopped. Let it go. It’s time to have food. Truthfully, she didn’t feel like eating anything. Partially because of the confusing emotions about that model chick from earlier, and partially because of the flare-up sucking out all her strength. At this point each step felt like she was dragging weights attached to her ankles.
Bread. Plain bread and some butter. That always seemed to agree with her stomach and it was easy to fix. It was v
ery bare bones, but it worked. Always a check mark in the food journal. Priorities, she reminded herself, and turned her back on the cars.
Even the loaf of bread felt heavy, but she kept reminding herself that food was a priority right now. When she took a bite, she felt it go all the way down to her stomach; her whole body seemed to lunge for the bread and absorb it.
Damn. I feel worse than I thought I did. It almost hurt, the simple act of nourishing herself after her body revolted earlier. Her eyes wandered to the medicine bottles lined up on the counter and rested on the bottle of pain pills. No, Lillian. Save those for when you really need them. Now is not one of those times.
The clock hanging on the wall by the front door chimed twelve times. Midnight already? She had fallen asleep hours ago, but it felt like no more than a few minutes. At least the flare-up was over now. Sure, the aftermath wasn’t pleasant by any means, but she could function and keep her thoughts straight without any bouts of crippling nausea.
Her mind drew a blank about what time her appointment with Claire was in the morning. Reaching for her phone that still sat on the edge of the table, she opened her calendar and was relieved to see that it wasn’t until 10:00. Plenty of time to sleep.
But she didn’t really believe she would sleep well. The simple bread had given her enough strength to have a flashback of Cayden’s first guest to the “intimate gathering.” Every time she blinked, the vision of the girl kissing him on both cheeks and being enveloped in his muscular arms played like a movie on the back of her eyelids. Shaking her head didn’t help get rid of the imagery; it was stuck there, a theater she couldn’t exit.
Frustrated, she took her dishes to the sink and turned the water on full blast. The pressure of the flow hitting the sensitive skin on the back of her hands was almost painful. Exactly what I need right now, she thought, not feeling guilty about it at all. Every part of her body was always more fragile after a flare-up.
Not guilty, she snorted at herself. Just like how, this morning, I was proud of myself for not feeling guilty about sleeping with Cayden. I had even started to let go of my fear about him. Hell, he even inspired me to— “Ouch, shit!” she gasped as the water suddenly became scalding-hot, and smacked the faucet to the middle so it would be more lukewarm. Her skin reddened slightly, and for some reason the sight calmed her down. It reminded her she was human. She could feel.
It had been a long time since she had felt something so vivid like this. It felt good.
One plate, a knife, and her water glass weren’t enough for her to fully vent her feelings through cleaning. She looked around for more dishes and saw a few more glasses sitting in random places around the kitchen, water glasses that had been misplaced and never noticed, probably due to her being absorbed in either her thoughts or her work. Forgetting about the earlier flare-up, she stomped over and seized them all at once.
As she watched bubbles pile high in the filling sink, she set her jaw and fumed. How could I have trusted him? He’s obviously very into himself. I mean, look at him, Lillian. His body is perfect, he’s got this face that isn’t just heart-melting but actually kind of exotic, and he makes a ton of money from working out with people. I bet he doesn’t even have any clients who are guys, come to think of it. They’re probably all women. For good reason, too.
She couldn’t quite place where her anger was coming from, but she wasn’t willing to do anything to stop it. Getting over those haunting memories from the past—the bar with Amelia only being the first one—was a huge step for her to even be able to walk over to Cayden’s house the other night. And what did she end up doing? Sleeping with him. The whole night.
