Present
I didn’t want to go to work, but I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. Even if all I wanted to do was stay in bed with Yoss curled up around me.
He was still sleeping when I quietly got out of bed the next morning. We had slept together. And it had been more intimate than sex could ever be. I woke up several times. Not because of Yoss’s nightmares, which there were none, but because, even in my sleep, I had to remind myself that this was real.
I got out of bed and grabbed my clothes as quickly as possible. I got ready in the hall bathroom so as to not wake him.
When I came back into the bedroom a while later, Yoss wasn’t in bed. I heard the sound of retching coming from my bathroom.
I gently knocked on the door and waited. I could hear water running in the sink. “Yeah?” his muffled response finally came.
“Is everything okay?” I asked. The door opened and Yoss came out. His skin was much more jaundiced than it had been yesterday and I could smell the acrid scent of vomit in the air.
“You were sick,” I stated, not asked.
Yoss closed the bathroom door behind him quickly. “I think it was something I ate,” he excused.
“You didn’t really eat anything last night,” I pointed out. In fact I couldn’t remember him eating anything. We had been too busy with other things.
“Please don’t worry, Imogen.” Yoss ran his hand down my arm and squeezed my fingers lightly. “Don’t you need to get to work?”
We walked to the kitchen and I turned on the coffee maker. I noticed Yoss was leaning heavily against the counter as though he couldn’t stay upright.
“Why don’t you come with me to the hospital. You need to see Dr. Howell. Nausea isn’t something we should brush off. You’re due for another round of blood tests anyway,” I remarked worriedly.
Yoss forced himself upright. “Who should I see?” he asked, frowning, seeming confused.
A lump formed in my throat.
“Dr. Howell. Your physician. Remember the guy with the glasses and bushy, white hair?” He seemed to be having a hard time remembering.
This was bad.
Very, very bad.
“Dr. Howell,” he repeated, gnawing on his bottom lip.
I nodded. “Yes, Dr. Howell,” I replied calmly, even if I felt anything but calm.
“My blood work is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring it all up with him then. I’m just a little tired this morning, that’s all. We were up pretty late.” Yoss gave me a tired grin.
“You were throwing up,” I pushed. “And you can barely stand up straight.”
Yoss straightened his back and held out his hands. “See. I’m fine. No limping or excruciating agony.” He poured some coffee into a mug and held it out for me. “You can’t miss work. I thought I’d head over to see my old boss. Sweet talk him a little bit before I hit him up for some work.” He slowly crossed the room and I watched his every movement like a hawk. Was he stumbling? Did he wince in pain?
He kissed my temple, breathing me in. “If we’re going to have that fresh start, I need to do it right. And that means getting a real job. I can’t get that by lying around on the couch wallowing. I believe you were the one that told me not to do that.”
“Yoss, I really think you should come in to see Dr. Howell,” I insisted.
He kissed me again, this time on the lips and it was hard to hold onto any thought that didn’t have to do with touching him over and over again.
“If I feel bad later I will go to see him. I promise.” Kiss. Kiss.
“Okay. If you promise,” I replied weakly. Yoss took my coffee cup and washed it before handing me my phone and car keys.
“I’ll see you at home later.” His smile was so convincing.
I had no reason to doubt him.
“At home,” I grinned.
“Sounds nice, doesn’t it?” I had never seen him so happy.
I couldn’t focus at work. My stomach was in knots and my mind kept drifting.
To Yoss. To his promises. To his smile.
To kissing him last night. It had been familiar and exciting. My heart hammered in my chest at the memory.
“You’re my smile, Imi. Always have been.” He kissed me with abandon. A passion unleashed. “Always will be,” he murmured into my mouth.
“Muffin?”
I startled, dropping the pen I was nibbling and knocked over my coffee cup.
“Whoa, it’s only a muffin!” Jason exclaimed. “You were a million miles away just then. I said your name three times.”
I looked up at my boss and gave him a wan smile. “Maybe I was ignoring you on purpose.”
“And maybe you should share what has put that silly grin on your face while you’re reading case notes for—” He peered over the desk at the paperwork for my new case. An elderly woman who came in with a broken hip and would need placement in a residential facility upon release, given that she had no family to take care of her. “Agnes Sutton. Aged eighty-four. Broken hip. No family. I’m not really sure why that’s making you smile like you’ve won the lottery.”
Jason sat down across from me and unwrapped the muffin and took a bite of it.