25 year old Angel Amore is in love with her life. Having Amir, her serious longtime boyfriend of 7 years, by her side, the perfect career that she was in love with (not to mention the lavish lifestyle that it could pay for) she is very content with...
Hey you guys! I know I'm two days late, but my anxiety has been through the roof these past few days. I'm not sure why or what triggered it, but I built up enough strength to get this chapter up today. For the ones who follow me on social media, you already know this.
I know Wattpad has been kind of dry lately... Don't know what that's about, but enjoy!
"When I met you, I met me too..." -Fantasia ❤️
3 Days Later: Friday...
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Jaceyon
"Bear, I don't know if I can do it. I'm to weak Bear..." Stephanie said to me, looking extremely pale and tired while she gripped my black pullover tightly.
"Of course you're weak; you've been shitting all day! Come on baby just try for me. Don't you wanna feel better?" I rubbed my hand in circular motions on her back.
"No Jaceyon... I gotta use it." She slowly loosened the grip she had on shirt and stumbled into the master bathroom, knocking down a picture of us that we took on Christmas off of the wall in the process.
As the days go by, Stephanie's health gets worse and worse. She's not getting any better at all. At first she was just defecating a lot, now she's throwing up along with it too. Whatever she consumes comes right back up or out.
I was trying to get her up and out of the bed, because she's been laying in it all day long. I figured the sooner we get her out of it, the sooner she'd start to feel better.
We're really not sure what's wrong or what's going on. At first we thought maybe the food just wasn't sitting right on her stomach, and then we came to the conclusion that it may be food poisoning. But even if that was the case, it doesn't last this long. Does it?
I'm really starting to get scared and concerned, because this isn't like her at all.
Just seeing her health deteriorate like that breaks my heart into a million tiny pieces. It hurts me to see her in pain like that; knowing that I can't do anything about it. It reminded me of how my mother was when she was battling breast cancer.
I just want my baby up and running like her old self again. She's not even cracking jokes or "Ribbing", as she would call it, like she used to.
***
I grimaced hearing Stephanie gag and cough through the closed bathroom door. She's been in there for the past 30 minutes retching.
This is all I've been hearing for the past week and a half, and it just becomes harder and harder to sit through.
Getting up, I walked to the door and knocked on it softly.
"Baby? Baby, are you okay?" I softly spoke with my right hand on the doorknob. "Nooo..." She whimpered.
