Chapter 25
I shot out of bed and ran like hell to the bathroom, throwing myself on the floor in front of the toilet just in time to empty the contents of what felt like my entire being.
“You okay in there?” a sweet voice sounded, followed by a soft knock on the door.
Oh god. I had just thrown up after a sleepover with Calvin.
What the fuck? My first thought was that I was pregnant—it was a constant fear the last little while when I was with Nick.
That was stupid, though. There was no way I was pregnant.
I hadn’t had sex for months, was on the pill, and my period had been regular.
Then I thought back to last night. The way I felt under the weather in the bar, the way I couldn’t warm up when I was with Calvin. Maybe it even had something to do with my overheating panic attack.
Suddenly, the room started spinning and my head was pounding as my face found the cool porcelain once again.
“I think I’m sick,” I moaned through heaves.
I figured he would leave me alone after that, but almost instantly I felt his hands thread through my hair.
Pulling the sweaty sticky strands off my face, he used a hair elastic to tie it all back at the nape of my neck.
Softly kissing my shoulder as he finished, he sat down beside me and continued to rub my back through every heave and sob that attacked my body.
When it felt like all my insides were out of me, I finally sat down on the cool floor and leaned my back against the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my breathing when Calvin ran a cool cloth over my face. It felt like pure luxury.
“Thank you,” I breathed. I still felt weak but was starting to have my senses come back to me. Guilt being one of the first prominent feelings I could recognize once the haze of nausea had worn off. “I’m so sorry.”
I heard Calvin’s soft chuckle and felt his body shake beside me. “I think you’re the only person in the world who would apologize for being sick. That’s nothing to be sorry for, Stella.” He planted another kiss on the side of my forehead. “Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”
“Sure, I’ll just get myself cleaned up a bit. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Calvin helped me stand before leaving the bathroom, but I was in that small window of time after throwing up where I felt like a million bucks and I wasn’t about to waste it as I started the shower and brushed my teeth.
“I’ll just go stay at a hotel for a few days. I don’t want you to get sick.” I also didn’t want to put Trixie at risk so there was no way I was going back to the bed and breakfast while I felt like this.
“Like hell you are.” Calvin stood in the kitchen with his arms crossed. “It’s Saturday. I’m not working. You’re staying here.”
“What if I get you sick and you can’t go to work next week, though?”
Calvin shrugged. “That’s what I pay my staff for.”
I sighed, but didn’t have the energy to argue with him anymore.
His demeanour wasn’t budging at all, and as I eventually found myself snuggled up on his couch with one blanket wrapped around my shoulders and another across my body with a perfect little rumbling fluff ball on my chest, I wasn’t exactly mad I had lost this one.
“I think he might like you more than he likes me,” Calvin said while side-eyeing his cat.
“I think you’re just jealous.” I smirked at him as I gave Bernard a soft kiss and a nuzzle to his head.
“Oh, I am definitely that.” He smiled and kissed my head, then handed me a cup of ice water. “Here, have a drink.”
He made sure I was drinking fluids all morning, switching back and forth between Canada Dry Ginger Ale and a glass of ice water that he kept refreshing.
He asked me what my favourite movie was, and when I told him it was The Hobbit, he started the almost nine-hour long extended edition binge-watching session without even batting an eye. We were just getting to my favourite part with the riddles when there was a knock on his door.
“Who’s that?” I asked. I didn’t realize he was expecting anyone and wasn’t sure if I should make myself sparse.
“Just stay here, love,” he said as he kissed my cheek and got up off the couch.
I could hear slight murmurings from across the house, but my head was still spinning too much to get up and, well, I wasn’t missing this scene for anything.
Gollum had just fallen in defeat of the last riddle, unable to figure out what was in Bilbo’s pocket, when Calvin came back with a huge Tupperware container and a duffle bag.
“What’s that?” I asked, curiosity making me feel a bit better.
“I told Grandma Trixie you weren’t feeling well and would be staying here for the next night or two so she wouldn’t worry.”
“Thank you.” I appreciated that. Trixie had become such a big part of my day-to-day routine, I would miss her, too, if not for feeling so ill.
“She decided she needed to bring us some of her homemade soup. And she also packed a bag of some of your clothes and grabbed some stuff from your bathroom.”
I perked up. As much as I enjoyed wearing Calvin’s shirts that smelled like him—and definitely didn’t plan on changing out of them—I was looking forward to washing my face and brushing my hair.
I slowly sat up and made my way to the bathroom while Calvin followed close behind. My body still felt groggy and heavy, but no longer like I needed to disgorge my soul.
“I’ll dish us up some soup while you get freshened up. Just yell if you need anything, okay?”
My eyes met his in the mirror and I gave him a slight nod. “I will,” I promised him.
A freshly washed face felt so good, and I brushed my teeth again for good measure.
When it came time to brush my hair, though, my arms felt like they weighed a million pounds.
I could barely lift them to get to the top of my head and couldn’t reach to get the length I needed at the bottom.
I needed to brush it, though. If I left it, the knots would just turn into matts and get so much worse.
Tears filled my eyes, and I tried to fight through the pain I felt in my arms that then started to wreak havoc on my whole body. My head started to spin again, and I dropped the brush, letting it crash to the floor as I gripped the countertop.
Calvin was there not a moment later. “Stella, are you okay?”
“I can’t do it.” It was silly, I was crying over struggling to brush my hair. But sometimes when you were sick, your thinking wasn’t rational, and this was something I couldn’t control, even if I wanted to.
Calvin picked up the brush and wordlessly led me back to the living room.
Sitting me on the edge of the chaise, he slowly knelt in front of me and gently placed a kiss on one cheek and then the other.
His lips slowly trailed down the side of my face and more tears threatened to spill as he softly kissed these ones away.
He placed his forehead against mine, and only once our breaths matched did he arrange himself behind me, gently pulling all my hair to rest on my back as he started from the bottom and brushed every single knot out of my tangled hair.
He took care to thread his fingers through my hair as he brushed, making sure he got every strand, and only once he was sure he was finished he gathered all my hair and worked it into one long braid down my back.
It was pointless to try and stop the tears.
No one had ever treated my hair with so much attention and love before.
Nick would scold me for how long it took me to get ready sometimes, he used my hair against me, and it was always there for him to pull or grab onto when he wanted to make a point.
Calvin wiped away my silent tears with his thumb and looked at me with the gentlest expression on his face. “Music always makes me feel better, no matter the situation. Can I play you a couple songs?”
“Yes, please, I would love that.”
He leaned over the side of the couch to grab a guitar.
How many did this man have? There seemed to be a musical instrument within his reach at all times.
I nestled myself into the corner spot of the sectional, bringing the blanket up to my chin as he strummed the first few cords.
I thought he would just play, but then he started singing and his warm raspy voice soothed the very core of my being.
I sunk into the comfort of the couch and the cadence of his voice as he sang about brown eyes and finding a better version of himself.
I couldn’t imagine anything better than the man who sat on this couch with me, and I wanted to tell him that, but I couldn’t find it in me to interrupt him.
He played a few different songs, and as my eyes started to lose the battle to fatigue I heard the beautiful notes of a song I didn’t recognize but felt like I knew it deep in my bones.