Page 25 of More Than a Match

“I’m sure. You’re safe. You’re here, with me, and nothing is going to happen to you. I promise.”

She slowly sinks back in her chair, weaving her fingers into mine and closing her eyes. “Ok.”

“Nothing’s going to get you, Mina. I swear it.” I grit my teeth and shake my head. “Not on my watch.”

CHAPTER 19: MINA

I blink slowly, squinting my eyes against what feels like a spotlight. As I come to my senses, I realize it’s just the bathroom light coming through the cracked door. On the heels of that realization comes another: this isn’t my room.It’s Alex’s.

The events of last night come flooding back like a tsunami, taking my breath away. The memories are scattered, slightly torn, and fraying at the edges, but they are still overwhelming. Did that all really happen, or was it just a horrible dream? I turn my head and wince as a throbbing ache extends from my temple down my jaw and neck.Shit. That’s right, I was hurt.

I adjust in bed slightly, ready to get up and find Alex, but he finds me first. He opens the bedroom door and sees me there, struggling to sit up, and rushes to my side.

“Babe! No, stay there. You need to rest.”

“But I have to pee,” I whine, suddenly realizing just how full my bladder feels. “Unless you want me to piss right here in your nice comfy bed.”

Alex smiles and cups my chin. “No, that won’t do. I’ll help you to the bathroom.”

He helps me stand and walks slowly and patiently by my side to the bathroom. The world feels like it’s spinning, and I grip the doorframe tightly. I glance at him as he swings the bathroom door open wide.

“Are you coming in with me?”

“Only if you want me to. Otherwise, I’ll stay right here, and you can yell if you need me.”

I don’t want him to think I’m weak, even though that should be the last thing on my mind. “Let me try on my own.”

“Of course.”

He closes the door gently behind me as I make my way to the toilet, squinting against the seemingly harsh fluorescent light. I sit on the toilet and begin to relieve myself when a wave of nausea crashes over me. There’s a small wastebasket next to the sink, but it’s too far to reach.

“Alex! Alex, help!” I manage to cry out between stifled gags.

He bursts into the bathroom and quickly takes stock of the situation, snatching up the small trash can and squatting in front of me with it. He’s just in time. I haven’t even finished peeing yet and here he is, squatting in front of me on the toilet, ready to catch my puke in a bucket.

Any shame I might have felt at this awkward situation is purged with the meager contents of my stomach, replaced instead by gratitude that he’s here and he’s taking care of me. I feel his hand gently holding my hair back while the other holds the trash can steady for me.

I finish retching and pissing at roughly the same time, and he gently sets the trash can down. My legs begin to tremble, and I collapse forward. Thankfully he’s there to catch me, holding me upright on the toilet and gently patting my back. Feelings of shame, relief, gratitude, and exhaustion rage through my body, and I can’t control my trembling. It’s all too much.

“It’s ok babe, you’re going to be ok. The doctor said to expect some disorientation and nausea from the concussion.”

I close my eyes, breathing in his scent. “I don’t feel ok.”

“I know babe. Let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed. Can you sit back? I’ll grab you some water.”

I nod and comply, leaning back against the cold toilet while he rises and leaves. He returns quickly with a cup of water and an oversized shirt. I sip the water, feeling it trickle down my burning throat. I gesture weakly toward the shirt.

“What’s that for?”

“Figured you’d want something comfortable to change into. I always feel better when I wear something clean after I’ve been sick.”

“You’re right. That does sound nice.” I glance down, realizing I’m already wearing one of his shirts.

He notices my glance and confesses, “I don’t know how much of last night you remember, but your shirt was all bloody from the accident. I put this on you when we got home, so you could sleep more comfortably.”

“I remember.” My fingers tug at the hem of the shirt absent-mindedly. “I remember you carrying me…”

“I did. And once we get you changed into this top, I’ll carry you back to the bed, if you’d like.”

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