Chapter Thirteen
“She’s in her room. She never really comes out anymore.” Marjorie, Phoebe’s sorority sister, leads me through the house, shimmying her hips as if I’m going to notice her.
I didn’t fly across the country for her desperate ass. No. I’m here for Phoebe. I need to sort this out, if only to soothe my heart.
Elijah’s being weird. Phoebe won’t talk to me. And now I find out she’s barely leaving her room? What the hell’s going on?
“It’s just down this hall—”
“I know where to go.” I clear my throat and sigh when I see the shock on her face. “I mean, thank you.”
Marjorie points to another door. “If you don’t find what you want with Phoebe, I’m right over there.” She winks and saunters off as I shake my head to rid myself of that mental image.
“Phoebe?” I knock lightly and don’t get an answer.
A better person might have waited a few seconds or called first, but I’m too hurt to be that generous. She doesn’t answer my calls. Why would she answer when I knock?
The door opens easily and I slip inside.
The curtains are shut, giving the room a dusty, uncanny vibe from the hot summer sun trying to breach the thick fabric.
“Phoebe?”
My eyes adjust to the dim light, and I spot her huddled on the bed, not even under the covers.
All my anger evaporates.
I rush to her side and check for a fever, but she feels good. She looks weak, but not fragile. No. Phoebe, with her crown of red curls, could never look fragile. But something has her exhausted.
“Hey, princess. I’m here,” I croon, hoping my soothing voice will be enough to gloss over my impudent intrusion into her room.
She moans and rolls away from me. “I don’t want you here.”
I stare at her back and wonder where we went wrong. We started out so strongly. So promisingly. There aren’t any skeletons in my closet, so I know she didn’t find out something and decide I wasn’t worth being with.
The last time I was in this room, we were practically promising each other forever. I glance around, remembering her on all fours above me. The way we came home from the ball and collapsed in each other’s arms, and I slept soundly for the first time in my life.
How much different it is now.
Then, her room was tidy and well-kept. Now, it looks like I stumbled into a frat house, sans alcohol.
She’s not acknowledging me, so I busy myself with straightening up her nightstand.
“I don’t care if you’re sick or even if you got disfigured in a horrible accident.” My laugh is met with silence. “I have been so miserable without you, Phoebe.”
A small sniffle lets me know she’s listening. I bite back my own emotions and nudge a small trashcan closer so I can brush a pile of garbage into it. With that out of the way, I straighten up the bottles she keeps by her bedside, and my hand freezes.
The blood drains out of my whole body and I’m ready to pass out when she finally rolls back over.
I whisper her name and hold up the bottle of prenatal vitamins that’s made me question everything I know. “Mine?”
Her eyes well with tears and I’m ready to deck Elijah. He could have given me a heads up of some kind. How long has she been suffering without me?
Anger engulfs me again, and I want answers. Why the hell is she hiding this from me?
But one look at her face snuffs my rage. The last thing she needs is me laying in to her.
“I’ll be right back,” I mutter, pressing my lips to her forehead. “Stay here, okay?”
She chuckles and barely lifts her hand. “I won’t go anywhere.”
Rushing through the house, I glare at Marjorie. “What local restaurants does Phoebe like?”
She scoffs and shrugs her shoulders. “How should I know?”
I bite my tongue and rush past her.
Elijah answers on the first ring and I don’t hold back with him. We’ve been friends for so long I consider him my brother. And if my brother lied to me like this, there’d be hell to pay.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She told you?”
“She didn’t have to—one look at her and I—”
“You’re in Connecticut?”
“Yes. It looks like I’ll be here for a while.”
He doesn’t say anything and my anger flares. “Her finals start tomorrow, don’t they?”
“Yes.”
“She can’t even get out of bed, Elijah.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Elijah sighs and I hear rustling. “She asked me not to. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Elijah—I—I’m so scared, man.” My anger fades to fear and I freeze on the corner of 6th and Main. “I don’t even know her favorite restaurants.”
“She’s been craving Mexican food like crazy.”
I glance around and see three options. “It looks like this whole town is. I’ll get some from each place near her house.”
“Ben—”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“You better be.”
“And Ben?”
I pause, my fingers gripping the door handle of Nacho Nirvana. “Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re with her.”