Wanting My Assistant

Chapter 31

My alarm blares through my apartment and I jerk upright. I scan my small apartment, for an odd reason, searching for Dawson. It's been over a week since the trip and I haven't been able to sleep well. Every time my alarm blares, it makes me want to go back to sleep.

I've been using makeup to try and hide the dark circles starting to etch their way under my eyes. I miss the breakfasts he made, I miss being in the same bed with him.

I hate it. I hate missing the trip. But every time my head hits the pillows I turn to curl up into Dawson's warm body, only to find the bed empty. Coffee is doing little to help the tiredness weighing heavily in my body.

My life is a disaster. I can barely make it to work on time. I've been so distracted and distant I've slacked off on my work. Anytime Dawson's even near me I'm overwhelmed with hot need. It's almost like I'm restlessly horny. Just the door to his office makes me excited.

And to top it all off, my parents are pressing for more money. They're pressing the lawful paper for more of my paycheck. I'm overwhelmed. It's all eating at me. I can't stay focused. I'm tired. I'm horny. I'm disheveled.

It's hard to get out of bed in the morning. I'm dragging my feet. Trying to put off going until the last minute. I haven't gone on my morning runs since I got back. I've barely touch a lick of food.

With a lazy flip, my covers fall away from my body, still covered by Dawson's shirt that I kept on our way back from the trip. It no longer smells of him, but each night I wear it. I shift and my legs fall over the side of my bed, a groan leaves me, rubbing a hand down my face. I feel like shit. My body feels numb and my lips haven't moved from the normal straight line since I've gotten back.

Dawson's been all steely. He hasn't gave me a soft look in a full week. Maybe that's why I can't sleep. Trying to figure out what I did. The questions gnawing at my stomach. My phone buzzes on my nightstand and I pick it up, glancing at the text message.

'I'm worried about you Dora. Can you please meet me at the café? You haven't been acting normal since the trip...' the message trails off but I set my phone down. The thought of food makes my stomach churn. I can't.

I don't know what's wrong with me.

My mind is all over the place. Most nights I'm staying up, painting something in the same red as Dawson's eyes. I haven't touched a single piece of art for someone else since we've gotten back. And the food doesn't look appealing either. I'm losing my mind.

My phone buzzes again and I glance at the lit up screen, 'Dora, does it have to do with Ryan? I know the cheating thing is hard, but you need to get out. You've just been working...' the message trails off again and a sigh leaves me but instead of messaging her back, I stand up from my bed and walk over to the suit I've had laid out for days. Specifically for today. My mind has been giving me things to do when I can't sleep, and making outfits for the week was one of them. How I'm going to wear my hair is planed. The shoes.

With slow steps, I walk over and grab the suit, turning and heading for the bathroom for a quick do-up.

—~•~—

Giving the makeup on my face another once over to make sure that the bags under my eyes won't show, I leave the bathroom and head to the front door. I hope it's a good day for walking. My feet slide into one of the most comfortable pairs of slides Dawson bought me, it's soft, like suede on the outside, but silky on the inside.

My fingers tighten around the phone in my hand, a heavy tiredness weighing down on me. My mom has been blowing up my phone about money and Vanessa won't stop texting me or calling.