After the End: Book 3

39. Nuclear

Louis POV

When I woke up the morning after my return, I felt like I'd only been asleep a few minutes. My body hurt. My eyelids felt heavy and I felt a crushing and somewhat painful weight on my chest.

When I opened my eyes, I found that Oliver had moved from his side of the bed to lay partially on top of me. He was still snoozing away in that position, his head propped on my chest and his chin digging harshly into my sternum. I let him stay there for a moment, letting my senses come back online.

The house was still silent. Through the windows, I saw early morning sunlight flooding through. My nightstand clock said it was only 7 am. I'd only managed about 4 hours of actual sleep. The previous night I'd found myself lying awake, rising to check on the twins frequently to make sure they hadn't spontaneously disappeared. I'd paced my house more than once. I'd tried to ride the elevator down to Harry's twice but I was denied access, as expected, and I couldn't bring myself to use my key to his place yet. Leaving the twins alone in the house felt impossible anyways and I couldn't very well justify bringing Oliver with me yet, knowing what he had been doing down there.

I'd called him several times, to no avail. I'd texted him repeatedly begging him to talk, and I'd even apologized for the comment I made that seemed to have triggered his shut down, but he'd been radio silent. I was concerned for his safety, until 2 am when I'd received the call from Naomi.

I hadn't called her for Oliver's bedtime. Among everything, it truly got lost in the translation of the day and so I hadn't expected her to have any idea what I was dealing with. Naomi was already a few steps ahead thanks to Harry. Unfortunately, her news wasn't anymore helpful, as she informed me Harry hadn't even been home for much of the night. She had spoken to him briefly and she said he had filled her in on some of the chaos that occurred while I was gone although not near enough to actually give her an understanding. I enlightened her on the details and she remained respectfully silent through my rendition until I got to the part where Oliver went on a field trip to a crack house. Her voice had gotten tight and I didn't blame her. I was furious too. Then she'd informed me that to her knowledge, Harry had spent the night in the city tripping acid and contemplating casual suicide. She also informed me that she had it on good authority that he made it home in the end. I wanted to ask follow up questions, but then she'd informed me that Harry had made it clear he didn't want me involved which only made me feel worse.

It was my thoughts about him that pushed me out of bed. Oliver didn't even wake up when I relocated him to his own side of the bed again and I let my feet hit the floor with a quiet thud. My hand snatched my phone off the nightstand as I started for the hallway. I couldn't help but check in on the twins again. They'd left their door open, as was the new rule. I was subjecting them to the plethora of rules I affectionally called the Harry treatment now, which meant doors open among other lapses in privacy. I found them both still asleep.

I made my way out to the balcony after that, thinking the fresh air might do me well. Then I attempted Harry's number. As expected, he sent me to voicemail halfway through the first ring. So he wasn't asleep and he wasn't gracing me with an answer either. Fabulous.

Instead, I texted Becca.

"We need to cancel our meeting today. Call me. DO NOT SIGN US UP FOR ANYTHING. Please."

I paced on the balcony for a moment longer to see if she'd call me. When she didn't immediately, I felt the burden of impatience weigh down, and I couldn't ignore it so I lumbered back inside and checked on Oliver and the girls again. They were all still asleep. I slipped the baby monitor on and stuck one in my pocket so I could hear him if he woke. Then I walked my way to the front door and slipped out quietly.