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“Wow. That’s a long time.”
I keep my mouth shut, avoiding commenting on the conversation. My heart, though, it’s invested. I feel every minute of the six weeks that Hudson has been gone. I can still feel his hands on my body and his lips as they press against my own. The weight of the way I chose to leave things sits heavily on my chest. I acted immaturely. I should have faced him and let the cards fall where they may. I regret leaving like I did. I regret not waking up in his arms, and I regret not seeing him and hugging him close one final time before he left. Those are my burdens to carry. My choices that I have to live with.
I finish shampooing Margaret and place a towel over her head. “All set,” I tell her, and she stands and makes her way to my chair. “Looks like you have a no-show,” I comment to my sister, who is still twirling in her own chair at her station next to mine.
“Looks like it. I guess I’ll go in the back and start on inventory.” She makes no effort to move. Raven hates inventory. It’s not a hard job or tedious, but she’s always been one of those people who needs to be where the action is. She’d much rather be out here gossiping with us than in the back on her own.
“We can tag team it later,” I say, giving her an out.
“It is faster when we both do it,” she agrees. “Who wants another donut or a refill?” She holds up her now empty cup of coffee.
“Coffee for me,” Margaret speaks up.
“Riles?”
“I’m good on both. Thanks. Can you grab me a bottle of water from the fridge, though?”
“Sure. Ladies, I’ll be right back.” She stands from her chair and heads for the break room.
“Now, we’re trimming. Have you thought about some layers?” I ask, lifting the back of her thick hair. “I think it would lay really well and take off some of the weight of these curls.”
Margaret’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. I’m standing behind her running my fingers through her wet hair. “You know what? Let’s do it. I trust you.”
I open my mouth to reply to her, but before I can, Raven appears beside me with a steaming cup of coffee and a donut in her hand. The combination of the smell of both of them has me turning on my heels and racing for the bathroom. Smacking open the door, I rush to the toilet and drop to my knees in just barely enough time to lose the muffin I only had a few bites of this morning.
“Riles? Are you okay?” Raven asks from the doorway.
“I think I have the stomach bug. I felt off last night before bed and then again when I woke up. After a shower, I felt better, but it just hit me out of nowhere.”
“I’ll take care of Margaret since my first appointment no-showed. Do you need to cancel your day?”
“No. I’ll be fine. There’s nothing left in my stomach. I think I’ll walk across the street to the café and get me a Sprite or something.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. Please tell Margaret I’m sorry.”
Raven waves me off. “You know she’s good with either of us. Whoever has room when she calls is who she sees. I’ll take care of Margaret. You take care of you.”
“Thank you.” She nods and leaves me to the porcelain gods. I sit on my knees in front of the toilet for a few more minutes just to make sure the queasiness has passed. Slowly, I stand and make my way to the door, where I shut and lock it. As soon as the lock clicks into place, the tears begin to fall.
I lied to my sister, something I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of lately. I couldn’t tell her what I think is wrong. No, correct that. What I’m almost certain is causing the sickness. Not without telling her about Hudson, and the idea of that alone causes an all-new wave of nausea to hit me.
How did I get here?
How did I let this happen?
We didn’t use protection. I was stone-cold sober that night, and I remember every single detail. From the smell of the alcohol on his breath to the way his touch branded my skin to the moment he slid inside me for the first time. All of it plays in my mind like a movie I’ve seen countless times. I remember thinking I was on the pill and that we would be okay. It was reckless and irresponsible, and now here I am.
I’m also late. Two weeks to be exact. For two weeks, I’ve carried this worry around with me. I was trying to blow it off as stress from missing Hudson, but the symptoms started Saturday morning, and they blow in and out like a tornado at all hours of the day. It’s not just nausea. I noticed in the shower my breasts were tender, and even though I knew what the symptoms meant, I asked Google anyway. Just in case there was some sort of disease that I wasn’t aware of.
