Page 110 of Until He Confesses

My second day in Paris was a highly anticipated one. I had been worried that the upsetting night before would ruin the day.

I had planned to spend the day on a boat cruise down the Seine River, but when I woke up, I found that the day was ruined, but it had very little to do with the meeting I had last night. Instead, it had everything to do with how queasy and nauseous I felt.

After a bit of thought and disgust, I was sure that it was the undercooked fish. I wasn’t a fan of seafood naturally, so it was expected that something like that would severely irritate my stomach even into the next day. I was running late, though, so I got to my feet and tried to pump myself up into making the most of the day.

When my feet landed on the floor, I almost staggered. I had to take a moment to assess what was wrong. I remained frozen in place as I tried to get my bearings and then, I sat back down on the bed. I was so dizzy that I had to shut my eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this bug was. Feeling even sicker than I had when I woke up, I was able to get to my feet and head over to the bathroom.

I thought of canceling and just lying in bed, but I only had two days left, and they were already planned out. I definitely couldn’t miss this one. With every last ounce of strength I had in me, I grabbed my toothbrush and began to go through the motions. I was slow and lethargic, but I found that after I got dressed and headed out of the hotel, I was revitalized. I lifted my face to the sun, forced a smile to my face that thankfully stayed there, and was on my way.

Eventually, I arrived at the docks, and after boarding the boat, settled down to enjoy the cruise. I had opted for the two-hour package since I wanted to take my time. Fifteen minutes into the ride, I started to have the biggest regret of my life. The nausea I had felt from earlier that morning seemed to have gotten even worse and returned with a vengeance. I couldn’t breathe or keep my head up, I was sure that I was going to spew every single thing I had inside of me out into the water, or maybe even onto the gentleman ahead of me. I tried my best to bear it, even bringing out my phone to take pictures, but then the phone almost slipped from my hand into the water given how unstable I was.

* * *

I hadto get the attention of the staff. In no time, the boat was stopped, and I was assisted out. They told me to sit down as they assessed my condition. All I could tell them was that I was nauseous and was certain it was food poisoning. They were sure it was motion sickness, but I was more than ready to give up on seeing this city.

After promising myself that I would find a way to squeeze the tour in the next day, I ordered a taxi and was on my way back to the hotel in no time. On my way, I received a text message from Lucas, and when I opened it up, it only had one line.

Lucas: Meet up today?

I read the message over and over again because this was truly the definition of what we had. There were no phone calls relaying sweet nothings in my head. It was just business, and it made me wonder if this had to do with the meeting I had the previous night or maybe he just wanted to have sex.

I wanted that as well, but not in my current state. I was pretty sure I would end up at some point throwing up in his mouth. Beyond that, it would have been great to spend a bit of time with him if it were possible, but once again, it was out of the bounds of our relationship.

Me: No, not today. Busy.

My response was curt. However, it was only when I sent it that I recalled that I wasn't ever to deny him. At the recollection of this, a headache seemed to add to my troubles, so I just threw my phone to the side and ignored it. I was too lazy to search for a pharmacy, so I simply went back to the hotel, certain that I could fight this off with a little more sleep. The moment I got into bed, I turned on the TV, shut the blinds, and eventually managed to go to sleep.

When I woke up later, I found that I was even worse. I got up, ready to head to the bathroom, and that was when the full force of the nausea hit me. I ran for the toilet and got there just in time to spew my guts into it. I was so disgusted that I immediately tried to leave, but the moment I got up, the dizziness sent me back down until I decided to just make myself comfortable on the ground. I was miserable, and the cramping in my stomach didn't help at all. All I could do was think about what sort of bad karma I had been gifted with that had forced me to get sick in Paris. I thought of calling Lucas over because it seemed now as though I would really need him. But I shook my head and refused this idea. I just wanted to be babied, and I didn't want to see him. I sighed and shut my eyes, moving over to the wall as I went through a list of food poisoning medicines that I could take. When my stomach cramped again, something else occurred to me. What if this had nothing to do with being food poisoned? What if I was... my eyes shot open wide with horror. There was no way this was possible. I was religious with my pills. And although I had been a bit less cautious during our first times together, I had quickly gotten my act together. However, the more I thought about it, the more fear began to fill every crevice of my being until I felt almost twice as weak as I had previously.

This kind of suspicion was enough to send me to my feet and out of the bathroom. I held onto the wall, found a bottle of water, and immediately drained it. It was difficult to keep down, but I was finally settled enough to put on my clothes and find a pharmacy. This time around, I couldn't be lazy about it, so I quickly left the inn.

I returned an hour later, now feeling dead, my heart pounding, and the plastic bag in my hand filled with medicine and, of course, a pregnancy test. I ignored the test and went straight for the medicine. After taking it, I lay down and tried to fall asleep again but the anxiety kept me awake until eventually, I threw the covers aside and took the test with me to the bathroom.

I was terrified, but prolonging this, I was sure, was going to kill me. Plus, I was now completely certain that it was food poisoning. I read the instructions and a few minutes later, sat on the toilet and stared at the wall ahead.

“If it isn't the result you expect," I told myself, “Lucas doesn't even have to know about it. We'll figure it out alone, and it'll all be fine."

My chest became so tight after this admonition that I had no choice but to look before I passed out. Reluctantly and with dread I gathered the courage and lifted my hand up to stare at the stick.

Lucas

For the rest of the day, my thoughts returned to her text over and over again as I tried to figure out why she had responded in that manner. We had already had the fight about her responding the way she did, and I knew well enough not to rehash things pointlessly. I was certain that she had been distracted when she had responded. I was sure it had to do with the dinner she had the previous evening and how it had probably upset her, but this was nothing but speculation that I had no intention of correcting, even from Jennifer herself. Therefore, I focused solely on my activities for the day, and by evening time, there was no longer any reason for me to remain in Paris. She was due to leave the next day, and given the response she had sent earlier, I had no intention of contacting her any further, so I got the jet arranged and got ready to fly out. Another reason for this prompt departure was because I had a meeting with my private investigator the next morning. I wished that I wasn't so eager to connect this thread of whether my twin brother had indeed been gay and having sex back then. No one in the family was aware or even suspected, but so far, this was what made sense. The man who contacted Anna must have still mistaken me for him and not been aware that Gary had passed away. All in all, there were a lot of questions I had, and they needed to be answered promptly. The unfortunate thing was that he lived in the Netherlands, which posed quite the difficulty for us in trying to reach him, especially since his profile was private, and he didn't use his real name.

"I'll find him," my private investigator promised me at our meeting the next morning. "It shouldn't take more than a week to get all the issues resolved."

Assured, I handed it over to him and went on with my day. However, from time to time, my mind couldn't help but return to Callie. I hadn't heard from her yet, and it made me wonder if I had been too dismissive about her reply.

Perhaps I should have checked back to ensure she was okay. After all, she had been in a foreign country with no one familiar except for me. At this thought, I picked up my phone to dial her number. But when I reminded myself that she was an air hostess who had traveled the world and could very well take care of herself, I changed my mind and put down the phone. A few days later, however, I reached out to her again.

I sat in the restaurant alone after a lunch meeting. I wanted to see her immediately and could only hope that she wasn’t working that day. I had managed to busy myself with every other affair that my impromptu vacation to France had caused to be abandoned and in wait for me, but now I could no longer think straight. All I could think about was the last time we’d had sex and how it had set my blood to boiling.

It was a gloomy day in Manhattan, and as I sat staring out of the window at the dreary weather, all I wanted was to feel her warmth beneath my body and have her scent in my nostrils.

I picked up my phone and before I could think too much about it dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring but her voice was quiet.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” I replied.

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