Broken Hearted Love {Book 2}

Chapter 18

"I know that we're both afraid. We both made the same mistakes. An open heart is an open wound to you. And in the wind, there's a heavy choice. Love has a quiet voice. Still you mind, now I'm yours to choose." - The Words by Christina Perri

Chapter 18 

Christy's POV

The boots on my feet pounded against the pavement; rocks digging harshly into the soles upon impact. My breathing was harsh, coming out in fast spurts. I had no idea if it was the sprinting I was doing or a panic attack from the news I had just learned. I hadn't had an attack since before this whole mess started. Everything has been piling up and weight of it all is beginning to crush me. 

"Christy!" Allison shot out of the diner after me, her feet moved faster than mine. She was in better shape than me. She wasn't dehydrated like me. She wasn't food deprived like me. She could probably stand quickly without feeling like the world was going to topple over. My stomach twisted in on itself, the bile shooting straight to the back of my throat. The whole world seemed to swirl together, like a bad case of Vertigo. 

My lungs were on fire and no matter how far I ran or where I hid, she would catch up to me. The Levis' always seemed to be one step ahead of me. What makes her any different?

"Christy, please!" I had reached the parking lot of the motel by the time she was close enough to step on my heels. My body had had enough. I stopped suddenly, my boots kicking up rocks as they skidded across the concrete. I doubled over, clutching my stomach to stop the sudden cramping, then anything and everything in my stomach was out of my mouth and messily painting the white lines of parking spaces. Delicate hands gathered my hair behind my head and rubbed my back soothingly. 

Allison panted quickly as she said, "Oh sweetie, I think this is more than the flu."

I stayed in my crouched over position, awaiting to get sick again. I wiped my mouth on my forearm. The taste left over in my mouth was bitter and made me want to get sick all over again. "What do you mean?" 

"Let's get you out of this chilly wind and talk about it, okay? Just trust me, please." Her voice was so calm, so sweet, it put a mellow feeling into my bones, realxing me completely. I nodded as she led me into a motel room, a motel room that wasn't mine. The atmostsphere of the room felt warm, a lot like Allison. The pink bed spread was laid smoothly and perfectly along the queen size mattress. 

“Please, sit down. Make yourself warm and comfortable.” Allison gestured to the bed as she walked over to the tiny kitchen area. I obliged, letting my worn out body sink down into the soft surface. The room smelled of warm vanilla; the picture sitting on the night stand made my stomach, along with my heart, sink. It was Allison and her husband, both hugging their daughter with the biggest smile on their faces. Their foreheads leaned together as they stared down at the life they loved and created so much. I had been the one to tear the smiles off their faces and it was eating me up every single day. I didn’t even realize the tears falling down my cheeks until Allison was crouching in front of me with a cup of tea, asking me what was wrong. I shrugged, not bothering to wipe the wetness from my face.

“Allison, why do you want to take care of me? I’m a horrible person and I deserve to go through all of this alone.” I cried, sobbing between my words.

“Oh Christy, no deserves to go through this alone, no matter what you did. You’re sick and you can avoid it for as long as you want but you’ll just get worse if you do. You stay here, drink your tea, and I’m going to go to the drug store, find you something to feel better, okay?” She said, standing to her feet and handing me the warm mug in her hands.