Page 94 of Protected from Torment

“Not yet.” She gives me a rueful smile. “I’m torn, honestly. Part of me wants to get to the stage where she does. But the other part wants to stretch out these first months for as long as I can. Since I won’t get them back, you know?”

No, I don’t know, I almost say. But Eden doesn’t understand what a painful topic it is for me, because I never told her about losing my own baby. She just thinks it’s an innocent question. Which is why I force yet another smile as I reply, “That makes total sense. She’s so adorable right now.”

Eden beams. “She really is. Sometimes I look at her, and I just can’t stand how cute she is.” Her voice dips to a confidential tone. “Rafe is the biggest softie. All Amanda has to do is smile at him and he’s mush. I can’t even imagine when she gets older. She’ll have him wrapped around her little finger.”

I can’t help chuckling at the thought of serious, intimidating Rafe doing whatever his daughter asks. “I can imagine it now. Tea parties and makeovers and dance classes.”

“Rafe with painted nails,” Eden adds. “Playing dress-up.”

“You’ll have to send me pictures,” I say without thinking. “So I can see how cute the two of them are.”

“Send you pictures?” Eden’s forehead scrunches in confusion. “Won’t you be around to see her?”

Sorrow slams into me with such intensity, I can’t answer right away for fear of crying.

I want to be around to see Amanda grow up. Even if it hurts a little, it would be worth it.

I want more girls’ nights with Eden, Bea, Noelle, and Yara, like the ones we’ve had already.

I want Tyler’s cabin to be my home. Not whatever cold apartment I find back on the East Coast.

And more than anything, I want to be with Tyler.

Grabbing my mug again, I take a large sip, hoping to use the slight delay to compose myself. But no sooner do I take it, but the sour taste comes back. I can’t exactly spit it out, so I force myself to swallow.

A beat later, it threatens to come back up again.

My stomach roils.

Nausea surges.

“Melissa?” Eden asks. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” But I’m not. I feel on the verge of throwing up. Waves of hot and cold sweep over me. Perspiration pricks at the back of my neck. Sudden dizziness makes the room spin.

At first, I’m sure I can get through it.

When my mouth fills with saliva a few seconds later, I’m not as certain.

Don’t throw up all over Rafe and Eden’s living room, I tell myself. Get to the bathroom. Quick.

But I don’t know where the stupid bathroom is. Because the last two girls’ nights have been at Bea’s and Noelle’s places, respectively. And I’ve never gone further than the living room and kitchen in Eden’s.

Jumping up, I sway for a moment before regaining my balance. “The bathroom,” I manage. “I need—” As the urge to vomit comes on even stronger, I clamp my hand over my mouth.

Eden’s eyes widen in alarm. She leaps off the couch and rushes ahead of me, into the hallway. “This way.”

Thankfully, the house is small, so we reach the bathroom quickly. Eden shoves the door open and ushers me inside, saying, “I’ll be right in the hall. Call if you need me.”

I feel guilty for closing the door in her face. But it’s that or letting Eden watch me throw up, which I’d rather not do.

As soon as the door clicks shut, I fall to my knees in front of the toilet. Then I spend the next however many minutes crouched there as my poor stomach empties itself. It’s just as miserable as the last time I was sick, just about a year ago, from a stomach bug that ran rampant through the office.

I’m not sure how much time passes before I feel remotely normal. When I’m fairly certain I’m not going to be sick again, I stand on wobbly legs and stagger over to the sink to rinse my mouth. When I look in the mirror, I recoil from my reflection. My hair is a tangled mess, my skin is the color of skim milk, and there are tiny broken blood vessels around my eyes.

Well, I decide, as I rinse my mouth with water, I guess I’m not going straight back to Tyler’s from here. Even if he does want to break up with me, I’d rather he didn’t see me looking like this.

“Melissa,” Eden calls through the door. “Are you alright in there? Do you need anything?” A beat, and then, “Should I call Indy? He was a medic, so he might be able to help more than I can.”