Page 109 of Press Play

Stop!

“Wren?” Theo taps on the door, scaring the image of my mother away. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” I try to laugh, but the pain churns in my stomach once again.

“Are you sick?”

Pressure builds in my intestines, but I try to hold it back. The last thing Theo needs to hear is me blowing up the toilet.

“Yeah,” I groan. “That pizza got me good.”

“Do you need anything?” His tone is soft and comforting.

“This to be over.”

“I know. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“Maybe notrightthere?”

“Wren, I don’t care about?—”

“Please? Wait on the bed or something?” I plead as I lose the battle I’m waging.

“Okay. I’ll be on the bed.”

Theo’s shadow disappears, and the second it goes, I relinquish control again.

I’m used to being alone during moments such as this, but Theo is here, and while it is somewhat mortifying, his presence eases my discomfort.

Time is a blur. I’m unsure how much has passed or what day it is. The door from the bathroom opens with a click, and when I step back into the bedroom, Theo leaps to his feet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, placing his hands on my hips to steady my swaying figure.

Exhaustion has swept over me, leaving me a walking shell. I can’t feel my body. It’s part of the ethereal. My joints have dissolved, and my muscles are nonexistent. I don’t think my ears are working properly either. Because I swear Theo’s mouth is moving, but I can’t determine what he’s saying.

“What?” The singular word takes the final ounce of energy I had left.

“You’re so pale,” he says.

I want to collapse. This part of the floor looks rather comfy; I could sleep here for days. My knees wobble at the prospect, but Theo keeps me upright.

“Come on, baby girl. Let’s get you to bed.”

He wraps his arm around my middle, holding me against his body as we walk to the bed. At the sight of the blankets, I summon what little energy I have and crawl to my spot on the right-hand side. I moan when my head hits the pillow. The fabric is cold against my cheek. The bed shifts as Theo gets comfortable, and while I want to look at him, my body doesn’t allow me to move.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers while rubbing my stomach.

“Why?” I manage to say.

“I shouldn’t have trusted what the menu said. I should have called or?—”

“Shh, it’s not your fault. And don’t fight me about it; I don’t have the energy for an argument.”

With a long sigh, Theo lies on his side and presses his shoulder against my back. “I hate seeing you in pain.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“I hate that you’re used to it.”

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