It's Only Harry...

Chapter 18

“All I remember is throwing up.” She tells me as we discuss the previous events.

We’re sat on opposite ends of the white sofa facing one another. Her cup of tea is held tightly in her grip, her knees bent up to her chest, wearing my ‘Teenage Runaway’ sweatshirt and shorts I dressed her in last night. Her face more pale than usual, she’s staring off into space in deep thought.

“Well, that’s not everything that happened unfortunately.” I say looking for any sign of emotion. I notice something but it goes away unseen.

“I have a headache.” She states going to get up off the couch.

“Hey, Hey! I got it. Just chill here.” Getting up off the couch and head toward the kitchen.

I bring back some Tylenol and a glass of water although she has tea. I’m curious what’s going through her mind, if anything at all. I wouldn’t think a seizure could cause brain damage, could it? She quietly thanks me as I reclaim my spot and watch her. She puts the tea down and takes the reliever with the water setting the cup next to the tea cup on the coffee table. Her head rests on her hands and worry rushes through me.

“Are you okay?” I ask, moving beside her and resting a hand on her back.

“Yeah, just exhausted really.”

“Ha, I would be too.” I laugh to try and lighten the mood.

She shoots me a small smile and adjusts herself to rest her head on my shoulder.

“Do you want to see a doctor or go to the hospital?”

“No, I think my body could’ve just went into shock from the intolerable pain in my stomach before I got sick.”

“Okay.” Is all I say not pushing the subject further.

“I think you should take me home though.” She quietly says staring off into space.

I nod my head in confirmation as she walks back into the bedroom. I take the three remaining cups from the living room and put them into the kitchen sink, rinsing them off. I hear the bedroom door reopen as Nichole reenters the room with clothes in her hand. The familiar blue jeans are clung to her legs and the grey TOMS from yesterday, her torso still accompanying my sweatshirt.

“I’m wearing this home……if you don’t mind.” She hesitated glancing at the shirt.

I just chuckled at her embarrassment and shook my head.

Nichole’s POV

Before entering the house, Harry and I had our passionate moment before parting. It was Sunday and he’d be busy most of the week with work while I’ll be home with my family. It’s going to be different not being occupied or busy, but the break was much needed especially after the current events the last couple days.

I called out asking if anyone was home, hearing my mum and sisters voice coming from the kitchen. Smiles were quickly exchanged with a finger signing them to hold on whilst I put my dirty shirts in the laundry room hamper. When I walked back into the kitchen, Amelia and my mum were sitting at the small table against the wall with tea cups in hand. My mum pointed at the cup set out for myself on the counter with tea for myself. I sat up onto the counter before taking a sip from my cup.

“How have you two been?” I asked starting the conversation.

“Nikki, things can always be better.” Mum says before lifting the cup up to her lips.

“What do you mean?”

The room falls silent. Amelia’s hair is in a messy bun, her body was clothed with a pair of sweats and a tank top, and her face wore a disappointed expression. Mum was still dressed in her pajamas as her face wore an emotion I couldn’t read. Confusion? Sadness? I wasn’t completely sure, but whatever it was I needed to know.

“Will someone please explain what’s going on?” I sighed into the question.

My mum chuckled before answering my question.

“You know how your father is always going on those business trips?”

I slowly shook my head and motioned her to keep going.

“Ha, well. I checked his phone bill the other day.” She paused, a tear sliding down her face. “There was a number that showed up repeatedly. I asked him about it the other night and he shook it off saying it was a co-worker. My suspicions got the better of me and I called the number.”

I began to make assumptions. Was he hiding something from us? Drugs? Alcohol? An affair? My questions were answered as my mum spoke again.

“You’re father has been having an affair.” She coldly states.

My thoughts are jumbled. How could he do this? Knowing that his wife and my mum has been suffering from Lupus, taken care of Amelia and myself our whole life, and has kept this house together. Anger falls over my emotions.

“Wow.” Is all I say through gritted teeth.

“Yeah.” Amelia finally speaks feeling the same way.

I hop off the counter and stomp out of the kitchen. I furiously grab my keys with my phone in hand and leave. No certain destination, but I needed out of that house. I got into the driver’s side of my truck and zoomed off.