Chapter Thirteen: Painted Smiles
403 Words
Leia woke to the world spinning sideways.
It wasn’t the soft, tipsy kind of spin.
It was the gut-souring, pulse-skipping, something-is-wrong kind.
She groaned into the pillow, trying to push herself up, but her arms felt like wet sandbags.
Her stomach lurched, bile burning the back of her throat.
She staggered out of bed, one hand gripping the nightstand for balance, and barely made it to the bathroom before she vomited.
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It wasn’t violent.
More pathetic than anything.
A few weak heaves.
The sour taste of last night’s pizza and exhaustion.
When it was over, she slumped against the cold side of the tub, shivering.
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She wiped her mouth, grimacing at her reflection in the mirror.
"You're fine," she whispered to herself. "Just pull it together."
Today mattered.
Chloe and Ryan would be there.
She hadn't seen them in weeks.
She wasn't going to miss this.
Not because of some stupid little stomach bug.
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She dragged herself through a lukewarm shower.
Made herself put on the dress she picked out — the soft navy one Owen liked — even though the zipper felt tighter than it should.
Her hands shook as she tried to fasten the delicate clasp of her necklace.
Three times she missed.
On the fourth, she finally caught it, breathing hard like she’d just run a race.
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In the bedroom, Owen was getting dressed.
He stood in front of the mirror, buttoning the navy shirt she’d picked for him, sleeves rolled to his forearms the way she always liked.
He scratched his stubble absently and frowned at his reflection, like the shirt personally offended him.
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“You ready?” he asked, adjusting his watch.
Leia smiled through the dizziness. Just get to the car.
Just get through today.
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She grabbed her purse — her lifeline — clutching it tighter than she realized.
Owen pocketed his keys, checked his phone, and opened the front door with a flick of his wrist.
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Owen looked back at her, standing halfway across the room —
clutching her purse, cheeks flushed too red, eyes too bright.
He jerked his chin toward the door.
"You coming, or what?"
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Leia straightened her spine.
Forced her legs to move.
She crossed the room in shaky, careful steps, heels clicking faintly on the hardwood.
Owen didn't reach for her.
Didn't offer an arm.
Just stepped outside into the sunlight.
Leia followed.
- Writer
