Mickey - The View From Here PART TWO - Gallavich

Anxious

Two weeks had passed since my asshole brother, Joey, jumped me. Dispite Ian's instinct to report Joey, I simply couldn't. Joey would pay for what he'd done, I just needed the right time to strike.

During my recovery, I had been lazing around the apartment, usually fighting a migraine. Though I had insisted it wasn’t necessary for Lip and Tami to take Franny, Ian had been adamant that having her around would hinder my ability to rest and recuperate.

Now stir-crazy and a little lonely, I was determined to return to my normal life. I felt mostly better. Time to go back to work.

When Ian walked into the bedroom, water from his shower beading on his bare skin, he gave me a pensive expression he knew could disarm me. The look on his face said, I only want what’s best for you. I love you. Don’t freak out about what I’m gonna say next.

With only a towel around his waist, Ian leaned against one of our rented dressers. He nodded to my camo attire and delicately wondered, “whatcha doin’?”

I ground my teeth with irritation. “Same as you. Gettin’ ready for work.”

Unsure of this decision, Ian crossed his arms and watched me get dressed with a worrisome furrow of the brow. “You sure that’s a good idea? Maybe a few more days—”

“Will do what?” I snapped at him. “I can’t just sit around anymore, man. It’s driving me fuckin’ nuts.”

“I just don’t think you should be pushing yourself with something like this.”

“Gallagher!” I groaned before I approached him and held a firm, but loving hand to his cheek, hoping to ease his mind. “I’m fine, I promise. I feel fine. I just wanna go back to normal, alright?”

Ian held my face in turn and kissed me. Pressing his forehead to mine, he said, “if you’re sure.”

A naughty smirk spread across my lips before I loosened his towel, letting it drop to his feet. “Oh, I’m sure.” I kissed his soft lips and let my hands wander. “Wanna go a round in the blowie chair?”

Ian sputtered with laughter. “Okay. One; stop calling it that. Two; we don’t have time.”

I pulled away, still smirking. “Raincheck?” I wondered as I sat at the edge of the bed to put my socks on.

That worried look returned to Ian’s pretty face. “Mick, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“Who’s been carrying my load of the work? Nobody. We gotta pay even more fuckin’ bills now 'cause I got hurt. I can’t stay home forever,” I asserted. The only thing I was good at was making money. If I didn’t get back into action soon, our savings would run dry.

Accepting that he couldn’t change my mind, he folded with defeat. “Okay, but on one condition.”

I waved him away dismissively.

“Let me know if you feel something is off. A headache, dizziness, whatever. Just, please tell me.”

Though I disliked ultimatums, I gave my head a nod and pecked him on the cheek. “Yes, nurse.”

To my delight, the work day flew by without incident. To celebrate my recovery and return, Ian suggested we eat out that night, make a date of it. Little did I know, I wasn’t completely mended, and life was about to get a lot tougher for me and my husband.

We were seated at a table by the window at a restaurant we both liked and nursed our beers while we waited for our meal.

“No headaches?” Ian questioned for the tenth time that day.

“Nope,” I replied. “Sun’s too bright, though. Fuckin’ sunglasses look stupid on me.”

“We’ll get you a pair tomorrow,” Ian decided before he launched back into his interrogation. “Dizzy? Nauseous?”

I wanted to say no, but that wouldn’t have been true. Waves of nausea had been crashing into me periodically since we arrived at the restaurant. On the table, my hand flexed and balled up as a peculiar sense of doom loomed over our table. “Just in the last little bit.”

Ian noted this, stating I would see a doctor as soon as possible.

I was sure the food was only moments from our table, but the sudden need to flee washed over me. It didn’t make sense why I felt this way, but, ashamed, I asked Ian if we could leave.

“You need to eat,” Ian said, doing his best to take care of me.

Urgency began to pump through my blood. “We have food at home.”

Ian placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a rub. “I know you’re worried about money, but we can splurge on dinner. It isn’t a big deal.”

To redirect my overwhelming anxiety-stricken energy, I bounced my knee until I needed to stand. I had to go home. Now. “Can we just go?”

Ian didn’t budge from his seat. “Hey, calm down. Why are you getting all squirmy?”

With my head now spinning, I put my fingertips to my eyelids and waited for it to pass. It wouldn’t pass, though. “Fuck it. I’m out.”

When Ian grabbed my arm to reel me in, I shoved him away before I made my exit to sprint all the way home. Once inside the safety of our apartment, I unclenched my fists and slowed my heartrate to a normal level. I felt much better now.