Tour went by quickly after that, and I started crying after the last show. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed my forehead. “This isn’t goodbye, love. We both live in LA, and if necessary, I’ll make you move in with me.” A wave of vertigo hit me hard, and I got really nauseous. I pulled away from him, and ran towards the bathroom, leaving Christian standing there, confused. I slammed the door behind me, and when he came in, I was clinging to the toilet, puking my guts up. He came over and rubbed my back. “What’s wrong, love?” I was sobbing, mostly because I was disgusted at myself. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling like crap the past few days, and I’ve been getting really dizzy and I can’t stand being sick.” He frowned. “I think you just need some rest, honey.” I flushed the toilet, and barely managed to stand up. “I’m going to brush my teeth and then lay down, okay?” “Okay.” He handed me my toothbrush, and after I’d brushed my teeth, he tucked me into bed and curled up next to me. “Promise me you’ll go to the doctor as soon as we get home?” “I promise.” He lay his head on my chest. “I love you.” I smiled. “I love you too…”
