The week sucked, and the weekend got even worse. The food poisoning I got Friday night lasted all weekend long. At least, I think it’s food poisoning, but it certainly seems like the fucking plague. Every time my head hits the plush pillows on my bed, my stomach rolls, the room starts spinning, and I launch myself in the direction of the bathroom. A handful of times I didn’t even make it to the fucking toilet. Leaving me to clean up vomit, splattered all over the marble. Just what I wanted to do when I was nauseous.
Sleep has been virtually non-existent, except for when I finally pass out. My body can’t take any more of the dry heaves, and it simply shuts down. I’m grateful for that, until the nightmares start. It’s a vicious cycle. I jolt awake only to be greeted by whatever is left in my stomach making an escape. Just when I think I am going to die, alone in my apartment from tainted Thai food, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
Sunday afternoon, I wake from one of my stretches of sleep, induced by being absolutely exhausted, and finally start to feel human again. I have something to be happy about for the first time in weeks, getting the fuck out of bed without hurling. I take a nice long shower and brush my teeth, and I feel like a million bucks. Until I think about Levi.
Being so fucking sick, I haven’t had time to think about the shitty situation I’ve found myself in with Levi. I haven’t been able to think about how much I miss him, or how much I wish he was here, in my penthouse with me, holding my hair back as I yack. It’s not a perfect happily ever after, but it’s something I want, with him. I want a life with Levi.
Against my better judgment, I text him. I miss him. I want him. I’ve been fucking stupid to think I could walk away from the only person who ever truly wanted me.
It’s not much, but for the first time since I sent him packing, it’s me contacting him. My phone quickly vibrates, indicating his reply. Was he sitting on top of the phone waiting for me?
Don’t sound so happy to hear from me. God. Maybe it’s too late.
Apparently, I am turning into an awkward high school girl. Soon I’ll be using LOL and giggling too. Yup, I have officially lost it. I am beyond desperate.
Relief floods through my body. He misses me. I miss him. Shouldn’t this be a lot easier, and far less nerve-wracking than it is?
Will I live to regret those words? Probably, but the only thing I need at this moment is Levi. Inside me, holding me, kissing me. I need everything about him. I’ve needed him all weekend long, as I laid on the cold tile in my bathroom re-enacting The Exorcist the best I could. Linda Blair would have fucking been impressed, that is for sure.
Am I sure? No. But I have never really been sure about anything in my life. Even when I think I’m sure, I end up making a shitty decision that sends my life into a mother fucking tailspin. My own judgment should never be trusted when it comes to my personal life.
I can make business decisions like a boss. My personal life? Not so much.
I shouldn’t have admitted that last part, but I guess this will be the first step toward admitting I never really needed space to begin with. I’ve been stupid all along.
My heart flutters at the thought of him. This whole emotional roller-coaster called love has really fucked me all up. Do I really love him? Could I walk away so easily if I did? My mind is a giant cluster-fuck of feelings and thoughts that I would have never expected in a fucking million years.
I pick up my phone to text him one last time before he arrives.
It is the God’s honest truth. I can’t wait to see him. We have skirted around each other every chance that we’ve had, after the morning I threw the vase of flowers across his office and he fucked me against the door. If this is love, it’s fucked up. But with me, fucked up seems to be the only kind of way I roll through life.
The elevator doors open as I walk out of the kitchen with a glass of ginger ale in my hands. I still look like I’ve been hit by a fucking truck. My hair is thrown up in a messy knot on the top of my head, my nail polish is chipped, and I’ve been picking at it for days. I have on a pair of giant grey sweatpants I could fit a family of five inside, and my black I Love Haters t-shirt hugs my braless tits. There’s nothing beautiful about the dark circles around my eyes, either.
I look up, and our eyes meet across the foyer. Levi starts heading toward me; he looks perfect. His hair is gelled back, and he wears a snug fitting pair of jeans and a white button down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up. Casual, but so fucking sexy. His face quickly changes from ecstatic to see me to concerned as he walks closer.
“Seven, what the fuck is wrong?” His arms wrap around my aching body, his fingers caress the side of my face, and I can see the look of genuine worry in his eyes. He cares. As much as I’ve wanted to tell myself that this isn’t meant to be, that he doesn’t really want me, he cares a whole hell of a lot.
“Got food poisoning. But I’m feeling better.”
He lets out a sigh and pulls me up into his arms. “You should have texted me sooner; I should have been here taking care of you all weekend.” Holding me tight in his arms, he brings me to my bedroom, where he lays me down on the bed, so damn gently. He doesn’t want to break me, and the consideration is downright adorable. I can’t help but swoon over this man; he is damn near perfect.
“How are you feeling now?” He runs his finger along the outline of my face.
“Eh, somewhat human, I guess.”
He moves closer, lying next to me, never taking his gorgeous eyes off of me. “What do you want to do?” he asks me, and all I want to do is have him hold me all night. Make love to me. Come home to my body, and never leave my side again, no matter how much I demand it.
“I’m sorry, Levi. I should have never let you walk out that door. I’m just… I’m fucked up.” I want to open up; I want to explain everything to him, but I just don’t even know where to start. I tried to cover it in London, but I knew in the back of my mind that I’d left so much out. That landed me right here, smack dab in the middle of the mess that I created, yet again.
My story is so fucking long, and downright crazy. “No one has ever wanted me. Not my parents. Not my brother. Not the one person I ever found myself in a relationship with. No one but Star, and even that is questionable.” We have to be honest here. Friendship or not, she has been a shitty friend on occasion.
“It’s how I try to protect myself from getting hurt. Pushing the people who care away. To me? This was all too good to be true. I never thought I would want the whole happily ever after, but then you came along and screwed my whole head up.” I can’t help but laugh at the conversation I find myself in. “Levi, my feelings for you scared me so much I needed to get away. I couldn’t breathe. My whole world is upside down.”
He watches me attentively, carefully taking in each word I say. He listens, and listens until there’s nothing left for me to say. By this point, I should feel a panic attack brewing. Instead, a wave of nausea hits me again.
I jump from the bed, scrambling for the bathroom and kicking the door closed on my way. Up comes the small glass of ginger ale I thought I’d be able to keep down. Fuck! Maybe this is the flu, because if it’s dinner two nights ago causing this bullshit, I am going to own that fucking Thai place.