Page 5 of Forever Not Yours

I had my key in my hand. I had no idea where it had come from. But yes. Key. Tap. Press the right floor. I knew that much.

I needed Jakey. Room. He’d be in the room.

Jake?

I whimpered as the lift doors shut in my face.Breathe.For heaven’s sake, I was an adult. I had carefully dealt with my insulin this morning, eaten on time. Had my lunch. Been spoon-fed snacks like a toddler. I didn’t remember dinner, but I was sure I’d eaten at some point, though I had no idea what time it was, and I was leaning against the lift door that rather rudely opened, leaving me to stumble out into the corridor. Room. Let’s go.

I was cold, shivery in my wet jeans and damp top, and I needed to eat. I had stuff in the room. Fuck.

My legs were moving, my head up. Fear was a sobering thing, and I had been here before, when I was starting to feel dizzy, and the chills were now causing me to sweat. I was too hot. Too cold. Too…much.

Room. Key. In. Jake.

“You left me!” I managed to say, as he caught me mid-air. “Bastard.” I was never usually this bad. Iusually did things better. I wasn’t that drunk. I was confused. Irritable. Annoyingly dizzy.

“Food,” I barked as he shoved me onto the bed and ripped my phone out of my grip then scanned the implant in my arm.

Yes. Yes, yes, yes. And yes.

I knew what was coming. A stern scolding from Jake, the man who never made any mistakes. The idiot who was right here tutting as he fumbled around in the room, headed for the mini fridge. Grapes? What the fuck?

“Did you not get food? Like proper food?” I tried stand up. Bad idea. My head was spinning as my arse bounced back onto the bed.

Bastien. Get a grip.

It wasn’t easy to get my body under control, to get my brain to slow down so I could actually think. I needed to be clear and calm, not have my heart racing like this. Fuck.Fuck.

I fought the carton of orange juice he was trying to get me to drink. A straw? I wasn’t a fucking toddler. I said that out loud as well, while he held on to me, myarm straining behind my back as he jabbed the straw back into my mouth, his face too close to mine.

“Drink,” he demanded.

“I like when you go all Daddy on me.” It was a joke—a bad one, but my mouth wasn’t with the programme—and I swore at him again.

“There. Now open your mouth!”

I didn’t even know how to do that.

To anyone else, we would have sounded like a bad porno, but in real life, this was what happened when I fucked up. Hypoglycaemia was another old friend. She usually hung out with Aggression. High heart rate. Irritable AF. Dangerously low blood sugar. Next, she would be followed by Unconsciousness and Ambulance and the threatened arrival of Coma. I didn’t fancy playing with any of them tonight.

I chewed whatever it was in my mouth. Snarled. Swore some more.

“Eat.” Something else was shoved in my mouth. That straw was back, spurting sweet juice against my tongue.

It wasn’t sensual or fun. Eating was supposed to be a delightful experience. Now? Fuck off, whatever it was.A cereal bar, dry and disgusting. I wanted a burger, fries, ketchup, followed by something sickly sweet and no doubt forbidden. But Dr Jake wouldn’t let me eat junk food, even when I begged for it. Instead, he made me live off stuff like this. I tried to chew. Swallowed. Spat out some crumbs over my jeans.

I was a mess.

A total mess.

“Sorry,” came out of my mouth. I didn’t know why. But now my phone was ringing, and that red-hot rage was back in my stomach…only to be instantly calmed as Jake grabbed my phone and spoke quietly into the receiver leaving me to sit on the bed and stew.

I was feeling a little better now. Calmer. Clearer. Actually able to think coherent thoughts. Puzzle things back together. Slightly.

Jake had kissed me. Ugh. I didn’t want to deal with that.Could we go back and erase that part, please? Possibly? No?Now he was pacing the floor, talking to whoever was on the phone, quietly without looking at me, and I still couldn’t focus enough to make sense of his words. It was about me. I knew it was about me.

This was me. Very much me. I stood up and dropped my disgusting jeans, slid past his back while it was turned and slipped into the bathroom, where I removed my insulin tubing and pump with shaky hands and put them on the edge of the sink. They promptly slid off and dropped somewhere on the floor. Damn it. I’d have to dig some new tubing out and change the infusion site as well. Later. Much later. I got in the shower, as mad as fuck when Jake stomped in behind me.

Not into the shower, thank fuck for that. Just into the bathroom.

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