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You just had to do it, didn’t you?
You broke Kia, just like you broke Dana.
And now you've driven her away too.
Nakia
¤ ¤ ¤
I didn't need to look at the clock. The shuffling of papers, combined with the creak of desk chairs and the discreet tucking of books back into battered bookbags heralded the last five minutes of my Fashion Merchandising class.
It was good thing too. I was already having to grip the desk hard to keep the room from spinning. I hadn't heard a word Professor Harding had said about the emerging Bangladeshi markets. I believed in taking notes longhand, but today they were a jumbled mess. My notebook consisted of garbled sentence fragments and long scribbled lines where my pen trailed off the paper.
It had been almost four weeks since I left Kingsley Designs. I had thrown myself back into my classes, trying to convince myself that I had made the right decision.
But my body was in full revolt. Odd, phantom pains fired in my joints, especially around my hips and pelvis. At first I had blushingly thought they were remnants of Zach's hands on my body, his rock hard cock entering me for the first time....
But then I had started throwing up.
And I really hadn't stopped.
The dizziness came and went with no real rhyme or reason. I couldn't point to a single thing that actually caused it. Somehow I had figured out that being hungry made it worse, so I now took to carrying a packet of crackers everywhere I went. Some days I could eat an entire sleeve in one sitting, while other days I could only manage to get a few down before throwing them all back up again.
A part of me wondered if my body was in full on revolt at the idea of never seeing Zach again, never feeling his lips on mine again, never watching his eyes light up when I walked into the room again.
But I put that aside. I had done the right thing. I had to believe that.
"Kiki?" Rayna was maneuvering her way through the jumble of desks, looking concerned. "You look like hell," she observed, leaning up against my desk.
I looked up, startled. There was no one left in the classroom. I had somehow missed the end of class, missed the assignment, and missed the mass exodus out of the auditorium doors. I had been lost in a fog through the whole thing.
"I feel like hell," I admitted, not even bothering to correct her when she called me Kiki. Only my mother was allowed to call me that, but right now I was too tired to care.
"Hmmph," she snorted. Rayna was a pain in my ass, but I knew her heart was genuine, even if she had a prickly way of showing it. "I was going to invite you out tonight. See if getting you drunk might dissolve that stick in your ass..."
"Other people have tried that before," I croaked, dizzily trying to smile at her. "I only end up policing how many shots everyone is having and reminding everyone of classes in the morning. I figured you'd know that."
Rayna tossed her rippling black hair over her shoulder. "Okay fine, I'll stop lying, I was going to ask you if you could be DD. But now I'm wondering if it shouldn't be me who's driving you home. What's going on?"
"I just can't seem to shake this...flu or whatever it is," I moaned. I was being more dramatic than I usually was, but for some reason I felt very close to tears. I wanted Rayna to put my head in her lap and brush my hair away from my forehead while she sang lullabies.
I wanted my mother.
I hastily turned away and acted like I was going to sneeze, surreptitiously wiping away the tears that had suddenly gathered for no apparent reason. What the hell is wrong with me?
"Yeah, okay hon, come with me," Rayna clapped her hands together as she stood up.
"No, I have to go to the studio...," I shook my head.
"Nope, not going to happen. You look like warm death and I really don't want your demise on my conscience. You're coming with me." Rayna gently lifted me to my feet, her grip stronger than I would have expected.
I allowed myself to be led, docile with nausea. Her car was in the close lot, a prime parking space she was giving up to take me home. I felt a swell of appreciation brush against the hurt pride. "You don't have to do this, Rayna," I mumbled. "I'm fine."
"You said you have the flu or something?" she asked, changing the subject.
"I guess so. Or a stomach virus. Or the plague." I shook my head. "I just generally feel like shit."
Rayna's big brown eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. She opened her passenger door, sweeping aside a drift of papers, books and shoes to make room for me to sit down.
I collapsed gratefully into the seat, pressing my forehead against the cool window. "I'm just going to run into the drug store and grab something for you, okay?" Rayna informed me. I nodded mutely, my eyes closing of their own accord.
I must have napped, because the next thing I knew, the door was opening. I flung out my arms to keep from tumbling out onto the sidewalk. Rayna caught me at the last second.
"Okay Kiki, here we go, you have your keys? Good girl, I'll take care of that." Her whole demeanor had changed. She kept up a consistent parade of soothing babble as she helped me into my apartment, gently took off my shoes and settled me down into the cool sheets. "That's a good girl, you got it. Everything's fine, you'll feel better after you sleep." She brushed my hair back in the way I had hoped she would and I felt those rogue tears leap to my eyes again. "All right Kiki, I'm going to go, but I left something on your toilet for when you wake up, okay? You'll see it on the lid."
"Mmmkay," I mumbled, snuggling into my pillow. Then my eyes flew open again. "Gonna puke," I warned as the world lurched sideways.
Rayna hauled me back to my feet and the two of us ran to the bathroom, barely making it in time before my stomach violently purged itself of its contents. My embarrassment at Rayna seeing me like this was only surpassed the mortification I felt when I saw the box that Rayna had set on the lid of the toilet. It was now lying on the floor, staring at me like an accusation.
"I just thought...just thought you'd want to be sure," Rayna told me, nudging the pregnancy test towards me with her toe.
Zach
¤ ¤ ¤
He's not going to be a distraction for me, that's for sure.
"It's nice to meet you, Oliver," I said.
The man, no, kid, in front of me closed his hand loosely around mine. "It's such an honor, sir," Oliver said, enthusiastically pumping my hand up and down.
I winced, I couldn't help it. I’d spent almost a month alone in this office and the last thing I needed was to be reminded of what I’d lost.
"Please don't call me sir," I said, trying to smile winningly, but only succeeding in baring my teeth at the poor kid. "Mr. Kingsley is fine."
"Okay Mr. Kingsley," Oliver smiled so widely I was afraid his eyes would bug out of his head. "I am such a fan, I have been since forever. Your couture work was what got me started...."
"Thank you, that's great." I didn't mean to cut him off, but time was wasting. "I need you to get yourself up to speed on the Winxhing account. We have a teleconference with them in two days, and I want to have our ducks in a row."
God… The fucking Winxhing account. I’d put them off just like everything else after Kia’s departure. Told people I was busy with a secret project and locked the damn door. Time had crept up on me, and I couldn’t put things off any longer.
"Right," Oliver's smile faltered a little , but he nodded enthusiastically once again.
I sat back down at my desk and opened my laptop. Looking up, I saw Oliver was still standing there, that enthusiastic smile now plastered across his face like a grimace. "Was there something else, Oliver?"
"Er, no sir...Mr. Kingsley. Go look over the file, got it."
I sighed. "The file room is on the main floor."
He breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay."
"Good." I turned back to my screen, pulling up the CAD file I had been working on, an idea I had been toying with. Something based on that saffron yellow that reminded me of Kia.
I was just starting to feel my rhythm return when there was the soft noise of a throat being cleared. I looked up sharply to see Oliver grinning like a maniac, his eyes filled with panic. "What the hell is wrong now?" I barked.
"Er, you said which file?"
"The Winxching account!" I nearly exploded. "The licensing company that my cunt of an ex-wife sold my soul to! Go get it!"
