by T L Swan
He glares at me and nods in defiance. “That’s what I said, didn’t I?”
I throw him a filthy look. “Hurry up. I want to get in,” I snap.
He moves to the side and I brush past him angrily.
He washes his hair and I start to wash myself and then he gets out angrily and starts to dry himself.
“You haven’t seen me over-react yet, Joshua.”
He rolls his eyes and fakes a smile. He is bloody kidding himself.
“Listen, asshole,” I snap. “You do not get to keep secrets from me with no consequences. I’ve had all the deciet from you that I am going to take.”
He lurches at me like the devil himself. “And I have had enough of trying to protect you only to be treated like an asshole. It was before we were together so it has nothing to do with you.”
“What!” I scream. “Nothing to do with me, are you kidding? What the hell are you talking about, you idiot, it has everything to do with me.”
“This isn’t about you or me Natasha,” he screams.
I screw up my face. “What the hell are you talking about now? You’ve totally lost it.”
“Do you think I want my children to be able to google me having sex with a prostitute in twenty years?”
I stand still, shit he’s right. If this gets to the internet, he’s totally screwed.
“But, of course, it’s about you, Natasha … everything is about you!”
He wraps the towel around his waist angrily and leaves the bathroom.
My god he’s an asshole. I turn the shower off, wrap a towel around me and storm out dripping wet after him. I find him in my bedroom rummaging through the wardrobe for something to wear. Cameron and Bridget are in the same positions we left them in on my bed fast asleep.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I scream.
“It means you were supposed to stand by my side last night and unite with me but of course you would blame me and leave.”
“Why do you say that?” I scream. He has got to be kidding. I am not taking the blame for his keeping secrets. What a prick.
“Because it’s what you do best!” he screams.
“Shut the hell up, you two,” Cameron sighs.
“You shut up,” I yell in reply to Cameron. “Get out of my room, I want to get dressed.”
“Oh god, what happened to the bad porno?” Bridget groans. “At least that was quiet.”
Joshua glares at her as he grabs some of his underpants from a drawer in my cupboard.
“It turned bad, really fucking bad!” he yells.
“Shut up you idiot!” I scream. “You haven’t seen really bad yet!” I spray my underarms with deodorant angrily.
“Oh god, go away,” Bridget groans as she pulls the pillow over her head.
Joshua pulls up his underpants and shorts. “Cameron, we’re leaving. Get up.”
Cameron is still lying over the bottom of my bed with the back of his forearm slung over his face. “Oh god,” he murmurs.
“Now, fucker!” Joshua screams. He hits him on the back of the arm as he storms out into the lounge room.
Red steam is shooting from my ears, he is kidding himself. I have done nothing wrong and I will not apologise for leaving the club last night. He fucking deserved it. I follow him, still in my towel. He is at the sink having a glass of water.
I storm into the kitchen. “You are kidding yourself, Joshua Stanton. I will not take the blame for leaving the club last night. I was embarrassed that everyone knew what was going on but me again.”
He narrows his eyes at me as he finishes his drink. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Remember last time you made a fool of me was in the hospital when you were fucking Amelie,” I yell.
He throws his glass into the sink and it smashes. He holds up one finger at me. “It was one time, there was no fucking!”
“Same thing!” I scream.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Actually you are right, you left me then too. Just fuck off now and be done with it.” He grabs his keys and leaves the apartment without his shirt on.
I can feel my heartbeat in my ears, I am just so damn angry.
Cameron staggers out of the bedroom. “Shit, I still feel drunk,” he croaks to Bridget who is laughing behind him. He turns and kisses her on the cheek. “Have a great trip.”
Oh shit, my heart drops. Bridget and Abbie and Mum are going away tonight for two weeks, I had forgotten. I hate this day already.
It’s seven o’clock and I have just returned from taking the girls to the airport, I am in the lift and my headache is thumping. Max is by my side. I’m trying desperately to not be stressed and to hold off this migraine, but it’s getting worse. I check my phone for the hundredth time. I haven’t heard from Joshua all day. Is this how it is going to be with us from now on, both harbouring grudges and resentment for past mistakes? Drama after drama. He’s right, I should have stayed with him last night in a united front, but I was just so shocked. He didn’t ask for this stupid bitch to do this to him but on the other hand surely he must understand that I need honesty in a relationship more than anything. He should have told me, but then who am I to talk? I’m the ultimate deceiver. The secret I am keeping from him is a lot worse than a blackmail case. This is such a mess. I’m as bad as his mother. He’s holding me to ransom with punishment for leaving him in the past. If only he knew that I have only ever left him for him. I would never go of my own accord, nothing is more important to me than my relationship with him.
“Are you staying in all night?” Max asks.
I give him a sad smile and nod. “Yes,” I whisper. I haven’t told Max that I had a fight with Joshua but I am thinking he already knows. He was here when Joshua left this morning, furious and shirtless.
“You have a headache?” he asks gently.
My eyes flick to him. “Yes, how did you know?”
He smiles sympathetically. “Your hands are shaking, that only happens when you are getting a migraine.”
I look at the ground as my eyes fill with tears and I nod. Why does my bodyguard know me better than anyone else?
“Do you want me to call the doctor?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Have you heard from him?”
I look back at the ground and shake my head again. “No.”
He nods and stays silent as the lift doors open.
I slowly make my way into my apartment and Max smiles. “I will be out here if you need me, ok?”
I nod and close the door quickly behind me. I don’t have it in me for someone to be nice to me at the moment. I may crack under the pressure. Why didn’t I just go to Hawaii with the girls? I walk to the kitchen and instantly go to the medicine cabinet. I need something that will knock me out and stop me thinking. I can’t deal with this damn headache today. I finally find some Mercindol and take three and then drink a large glass of milk to fill my stomach.
I shower and dress and crawl onto the lounge under a blanket.
I wake to the feel of my hair being swiped back from my forehead and my blanket being rearranged over me.
“What’s wrong?” Joshua asks.
“Nothing, just a headache. I’m ok,” I whisper as I pull the blanket up to my chin in a defensive manner.
He stands over me and puts his hands on his hips. “You don’t look ok, you look like shit,” he murmurs.
I look up at him and smirk. “You look worse, but thanks for the compliment.”
He flops onto the lounge next to me and throws his feet onto my coffee table. For ten minutes he sits next to me and I can feel the anger radiating out of him. In the end it gets the better of me and I can no longer keep my mouth shut.
“Did you come over here to ignore me, Joshua?” I ask.
He bites his thumbnail and shakes his head.
I roll my eyes and pull my blanket back up around my face. “Whatever,” I murmur.
For another half an hour I sit with him fuming next to me and my head
feels like it is about to explode. “What is it Joshua? Why did you come here if you are furious?”
He jumps up in a rush. “I’m not mad with you,” he yells, and my eyes close from the echoing sound.
I frown. “Who are you mad with?” I reply.
“Myself mostly.”
I frown again. “Why?” The pain in my head becomes so intense that my eyes tear up and it starts to throb. I can’t handle this conversation now.
“Because I can’t stay away from you!” he yells.
I sit up and frown at him.
“Every goddamn day at three o’clock I start to watch my clock counting the hours until I see you and it makes me sick.”
My eyes fill with tears as my head starts to really thump. “It makes you sick missing me?” I ask, mortified.
“I shouldn’t miss you. I should hate you, I shouldn’t feel the way I do about you!”
The pain in my head becomes too much to bear. “But I love you,” I whisper as the stupid tears roll onto my cheeks.
“Natasha!” he screams. “Are you listening to me at all?”
My head throbs and my tears fall. I don’t have the strength to deal with him now. I stand slowly. “Joshua, I am unwell. I can’t argue with you tonight. I need to go to bed,” I whisper in a strained voice.
He frowns as his face falls. “Are you ok?”
I shake my head. “No, I am not. I have a terrible headache. Can we talk about this tomorrow? I need some still Josh, please give me some still.”
Chapter 26
Joshua
I wake to the sound of a glass smashing. I sit up in a rush and flick the lamp on. Natasha isn’t in bed and I immediately jump up and run out into the lounge room.
“Natasha,” I call in a panic.
“In here, baby, I’m ok,” she calls from the bathroom. Relief hits me, thank god. I go to the bathroom and find that she is anything but ok. She is on the floor on her knees throwing up and her hands are shaking heavily as she tries to hold herself up.
I drop to my knees next to her. “What’s the matter?” I ask as I brush her hair back from her perspiration-clad forehead.
“Migraine,” she whispers. “Can you get me my phone please?”
I nod and run from the room. I don’t know anything about migraines. “Where is it?” I call in a panic from the bedroom.
“In the wardrobe in my handbag,” she replies.
I run into the wardrobe and flick on the light as my eyes dart around the small space. I’m getting her a new wardrobe on Monday. This is ridiculous. Shit, there are about ten handbags all hanging from a shelf. “Which one?” I call but she doesn’t answer. “Natasha, which bag?” She doesn’t answer again and I sprint back to the bathroom to find her throwing up again.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
She continues to throw up violently and I run my hands nervously through my hair.
“Max,” she whispers.
I screw up my face. “Huh?”
“Ring Max,” she groans.
My eyes widen as she throws up again, she’s going to die any minute. I sprint to the bedroom and grab my phone off the bedside and dial Max’s number.
“Hello,” he answers.
“Max get up here, Natasha has a migraine and I don’t know what to do.”
“I will call her doctor,” he answers calmly.
“Do you have the number?” I snap.
“Yes, this happens a lot.”
My eyes widen in horror, a lot … what does that mean? “Ok.” I hang up.
I run back to the bathroom to find Natasha holding her head and crying as her hands shake violently. What the hell is going on? I fall to the floor next to her and cut my hand on a piece of broken glass on the floor. “Shit,” I snap.
“I broke a glass. I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Tash, you’re scaring me. What’s happening?” I pull her onto my lap and hold her head as she cries.
“The doctor will be here soon,” she sobs in a calming voice as if sensing my fear. What if she is having an aneurysm?
“It’s ok, I’m ok,” she whispers as she comforts me. “I’m ok, baby, go and unlock the door.”
I nod and ease her down onto the ground beside me and unlock the door. Max is waiting outside.
“Where is she?” he asks.
“In the bathroom,” I answer as I run back up the hall towards her.
Max goes to the kitchen and gets a large dish from the cupboard and goes and puts it in the bedroom before coming into the bathroom.
“You should put some clothes on.” He nods.
I look down at myself. Shit, I’m naked, I hadn’t even realised. I nod and head to the bedroom and throw on some clothes. Max walks into the room carrying Natasha and he puts her into bed.
“It’s ok, honey, the doctor will be here soon and he will give you a sedative and everything will be ok,” he says gently as he lays her down.
She nods as she holds her head and I stand still, riveted on the spot in shock. This has happened a lot, I can tell by Max’s calm reaction. Why in the hell do I not know about this?
A guard walks into the apartment with a doctor behind him. “In here,” I yell.
The middle-aged woman smiles and immediately opens her briefcase and starts to check Natasha and I stand still at the end of the bed.
“It’s been a while since you had one of these,” the doctor murmurs as she takes her blood pressure.
“Yes, five weeks,” Max replies.
I narrow my eyes at Max. “How often does this happen?” I ask.
He shrugs. “When she is stressed.”
Guilt fills my stomach—this is my fault. Max’s eyes dare me to say something and I feel anger rise in my stomach.
“You can go, Max,” I say flatly to him.
He rolls his lips as his eyes flick to Natasha. “I will stay with her if you need to go out,” he replies.
“That won’t be necessary. I will be staying and looking after her. Thank you.” I can’t hide my annoyance that he knows more about my girl than I do.
He nods and leaves the room.
I sit on the chair in the corner of the room and watch silently as the doctor checks her over.
“Natasha dear, I am going to give you a sedative now. Do you want me to call someone to look after you?”
I stand. “I will be staying to care for her.”
Natasha holds out her shaky hand as she smiles weakly and I take it in mine. The doctor smiles at our interaction.
“This is a sedative that I am giving her and she will be out for around eighteen hours.”
I frown as I listen. “It’s ok, she has had this many times before. It is the only way we can get the migraine to stop. It’s quite common.”
I nod and watch the doctor give her an injection.
“Here is my card, call me if you need anything,” the doctor says and then she leaves us alone.
“Is your hand ok?” Natasha whispers.
A lump in my throat forms, here she is half dying and she is worried about a nick on my hand.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m ok,” I lie down next to her and put my cheek to hers.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Don’t be stupid, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry you have to stay here with me,” she whispers.
I bend and kiss her forehead.
“Josh, I need to go to the bathroom.”
I nod, help her up and lead her to the bathroom and wait silently while she goes.
“Is your head ok?” I ask as I brush her hair back.
“I’m ok, you know me, the ultimate drama queen. Nothing in halves,” she smiles and I find myself returning her smile. I really do love this woman.
“Come on, back to bed.” I help her back up the hall and she changes clothes and slowly hops into bed. The clock reads 4.45 am. I lay next to her and hold her close as she drifts off into unconsciousness.
It’s 1
2 pm, Tash is fast asleep like an angel next to me in bed and I am on my laptop googling migraines and their treatment. Apparently she was having them every couple of weeks after her father died. Not as bad as this though, according to Max. The only time she had one this bad was when I came to her after we broke up and she turned me away. That one went for four days and they sedated her twice in a row. I needed sedating myself at that time. My eyes flick to the beautiful woman lying next to me. I wish I could just get over this shit and forget the past. I just can’t … I’m trying. I am so in love with her and it’s fucking with my head, scared to live with her, petrified to live without her. I can’t stand this hold she has over me. She rolls and I notice her pyjamas are slightly soiled, what’s that? My eyes widen. Shit, she has her period. My eyes dart around the room in a panic. I don’t know anything about this shit. Hang on, it’s early, it’s not due for another week, maybe she’s haemorrhaging.
I run to the lounge room to retrieve my phone and ring Cameron.
“Hey,” he answers.
“Cameron, you need to get over here immediately. Natasha is unconscious and haemorrhaging.”
“What the fuck?” he snaps.
“No, not like that. I mean she has a migraine and the doctor knocked her out and I am looking after her and now she is bleeding.”
“From where?” he snaps again.
I shake my head in frustration. “From you know where.”
“Where?”
“Where girls bleed from.”
“Oh Jesus,” he groans. “She has her period, Stan, that’s all.”
“What do I do?” I shriek.
“She will have some stuff in her bathroom. All girls do, just follow the directions on the pack.”
My eyes widen as I walk to the bathroom and start rattling through her cupboards and drawers.
“What does it look like?” I ask Cameron.
“What does what look like?” he snaps.
“Whatever this girl shit is!”
He laughs down the phone. “You’re such a dumb fuck. Do you want me to come over and sort her out?”
My eyes widen in horror. “No, I do not. I can look after my girlfriend just fine thank you.” He is not laying a finger on her.
