The Devastating Truth

 Chapter 1- Forgetting

                Buzz, buzz, buzz. The sound of my husband’s alarm wouldn’t shut up. He was a heavy sleeper and all, but damn. How could he not hear that? I heard a small yelp escape his mouth as I hit him. “Please! For the love of god, turn that off.”

                “I’m sorry, sweetie. Late show last night. I was knocked out…”

                Sighing, I replied “You don’t say…” I pulled back the covers and stood up quick. Way too quick… My head was spinning as I sat down on the soft mattress. My hand was on my forehead, trying to regain enough energy and balance to get up again. Suddenly, my stomach flipped.

                “Babe, you okay?” Zayn sat straight up and began rubbing my back, but only for a second. I shoved him away, and not caring if I lost my balance again, I sprinted to the bathroom and was violently sick. The tiled floor was cold on my knees as I leaned over the toilet. I don’t know why, but tears were streaming down my face as I heard Zayn’s bare feet flopping against the floor.

                “El? You okay?” I nodded. I was okay… all of a sudden I was perfectly fine. It was as if I hadn’t been sick at all.

                I began laughing and Zayn looked at me like I had completely lost my mind. “I’m just fine, actually. I don’t know why I got sick, or why I’m crying, or why I’m laughing now… Oh gosh. Help me up?” Zayn took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

                He eyed me curiously, as if he was expecting me to get sick again. “And you’re sure you’re okay?” he asked once more.

                “Yeah… I… I don’t know what that was. Really, I don’t know what’s wrong.” Still holding my hand, he led me back to the bedroom, where he sat me down on the bed. “Really, Zayn, I’m okay. Now you want breakfast?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer as I got up and walked into the living room, which was clustered with Ryder’s racecars. Being five years old, all he wanted to do was play with his cars.

                Speaking of Ryder, where was he? “Ry?” I called out, but got no response. “Fine… I guess I’ll just have to make pancakes just for me and dad…”

                As if on cue, he came sprinting from his room, screaming, “Noooo!” I laughed and swung him up in my arms, even though he was fighting me.

                “You might be five, but you’re still my baby.” I said, placing him in a chair at the kitchen table. Then Zayn came in the room.

                “Good morning, little guy.” He said, ruffling Ryder’s light brown hair that was identical to mine. “Is mommy making us breakfast?”

                “Yes!” he said, jumping from the chair to the floor. “And I’m helping!”

                “Well aright then! Come on!” I said as he brought over his standing stool from beside the refrigerator, and climbed on top, so he was able to see over the counter.

“You better come help us!” I said, eyeing my husband who was leaning against the cabinet.

                “You know I always prefer watching…” Zayn replied, causing me to shake my head and roll my eyes.

                I didn’t reply, my main focus was to make pancakes with my son, and if he didn’t want to then that was his problem.  “Okay, Ryder, let’s pour the batter.” His small hand gripped mine as we poured out enough for three pancakes.