Page 240 of I Never Stopped Loving You

*Ding*

My phone goes off, and when I pull it out, I can see that it’s the security app notifying me of movement in our bedroom. When I play back the video, Willow is running into the bathroom then the sound of her violently throwing up comes through the speakers.

I can’t be here anymore. She needs me. I’ve been watching the feed for the last couple of minutes to see if she comes out, but she doesn’t. I can hear her still gagging, and my nerves can’t handle being away from her any longer while she’s in this condition.

“Hey. I’m heading home,” I say to Jeremy as I tuck my phone back into my pocket.

“What? The party’s barely gotten started,” he groans.

“Willow is violently throwing up. I’m not leaving her alone.”

“Fuck. What did she eat? Oh God. What if it’s the flu? You could be carrying it too. I have court on Monday. I can’t be sick. Dammit!”

“Goodbye, Jeremy,” I say as I turn my back on him, wave goodbye to the few employees near us, then take off toward the exit.

I’m only fifteen minutes from home, but I manage to get stopped at every light. I have the feed open on my phone sitting in the dash mount as I watch our bedroom, hoping to see her walk out feeling better. When I’m at the next red light, movement catches my eye as I watch Willow come back into the bedroom and grab one of the Amazon packages off the bed.

She tiptoes over to the bedroom door and sticks her head out before I hear her call my name. She waits a few seconds before calling my name again then shuts the door.

I don’t think she realizes I have a camera set up in our bedroom. I make a mental note to show her where every camera is when she’s feeling better, but right now my focus is on the package in her hands as she walks back into the bathroom and shuts the door.

What is she hiding? Why would it matter if I were home?

I race the last five miles to the house. I disable the house notifications for the gate opening so that she won’t be aware that I’m home yet. I park the truck out front and quietly make my way inside. Even from the front foyer, I can hear her on the third floor throwing up again.

I quickly run up two flights of steps and open the door to our bedroom. I can hear her sobs from the other side of the bathroom door, and my heart breaks. Another wave of nausea hits, causing her to dry heave before cursing and hitting her fist on something hard.

“Willow?” I say softly as I knock on the door.

“Noah? Are you home already? How was the party?” she asks nervously.

I turn the handle to open the door, but she quickly throws her body against it and grabs the handle.

“Don’t come in here. It’s disgusting. I’ve been throwing up since you left.”

“I know. That’s why I came home,” I say, turning the handle again.

“You know? How?”

“The camera in the corner of the bedroom,” I confess.

“The…Oh.”

“Yeah. So, will you please let me in?” I ask, barely nudging against the door.

“It’s gross though.”

“Willow, I was with you when you threw up from being hungover when we went out after the bastards retired. I was the one who held your hair back, remember? A little throw up doesn’t bother me.”

“But…”

“Willow, what’s really going on?” I ask with genuine concern in my voice.

What if it’s not the flu, but something worse? What if she’s really sick, but she doesn’t want to tell me because she’s worried how I might handle it? My mind is spiraling into the what-ifs that it always does concerning her when suddenly the door opens.

Her eyes are bloodshot and her face is red. Tears are flowing down her cheeks and her shirt is soaked as if she’s been crying for a long time. I take a step forward pulling her into my arms. She rests her face against my shirt and sobs, collapsing against me. I carefully lower us to the ground and pull her into my lap as I lean against the door.

“What is it, Little Rabbit? Talk to me,” I beg, but she just continues to cry holding onto my shirt.