"Wait right there," he said, softening his voice as he helped me sit down.
He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with some ice cubes. Then he grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to me.
I gratefully popped the pills and clutched the water bottle close.
Emerson watched me the whole time as I lay there, head resting on the back of the sofa. I stayed still until the throbbing in my head subsided and the headache faded.
When I finally looked up, I could see his face, a mix of anger and concern. His jaw was tight, but his eyes showed he was worried.
"What is it? What's going on?" I asked, not quite understanding why he was so upset.
"What’s going on is that I’ve been calling you, and you haven’t been picking up. Then I come here and find this. You’re telling me you threw this
