Chapter 21

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When Kirsty woke up a few hours later, she had a terrible headache but she no longer felt sick. She forced herself to get out of bed and went to have a shower, convinced that hot water would make the sickly feeling go away.

After Kirsty finished her shower, she put on her white bathrobe and combed the tangles out of her hair. Her face was extremely white and the token circles were under her eyes. It was a sight she was used to seeing. At least she felt a little better.

Holding her aching stomach, Kirsty walked gingerly down the stairs. She saw Derek sleeping on the couch. His hair was tousled in the way she used to love. Kirsty stood smiling at him for a moment. Then she grabbed a blanket from the rocking chair and covered Derek with it.

She went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee in the coffee machine. Then she collected the dirty dishes off the dining table and piled them in the kitchen sink. She did not feel like washing them right away.

When the coffee was ready, Kirsty poured herself a cup and went out onto the terrace. It was surprisingly warm for such an early hour in the day. Kirsty liked the yellow and gold colours which the rising sun created in the sky. Despite the fact that she was hung over, Kirsty felt breathtakingly alive.

She went back into the house a little while later. She noticed that Derek was awake and watching her as she shut the patio door. He smiled at her and she smiled back tentatively. He sat up, rubbing his hair.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

Kirsty walked toward him, involuntarily keeping her hand on her stomach.

"I have a headache, but other than that, I'm fine." she replied, trying to sound cheerful.

"You were pretty sick, weren't you?" Derek asked, chuckling.

"I'm better now," Kirsty replied, not wanted to remember the details of the previous evening.

Derek laughed deeply. Kirsty did not mind that he was laughing at her expense since it had been so long since she had heard him laugh like that.

"You were hilarious last night, Kirsty."

Kirsty did not reply to his remark. Instead, she said, "I made some coffee. Would you like some?"

"Coffee sounds great," Derek said, standing up.

Kirsty turned toward the kitchen and Derek grabbed her shoulders.

"I'll get it," he said softly, looking into her eyes.

"Okay," Kirsty replied, looking away.

After Derek went into the kitchen, Kirsty collapsed on the couch and clutched her coffee mug. She was feeling slightly apprehensive about what Derek might have thought about the letter she had written to him. Maybe he did not consider it significant enough to be mentioned.

Derek joined her on the couch a few minutes later. As he sat down beside her, he shook his head.

"I still can't believe how drunk you were last night," he said, grinning. "I didn't know you could drink that much."
"Neither did I," Kirsty answered, moaning in remembrance.

Derek chuckled and said, "You should never drink alone; my mother did that and that's why it killed her."

Strangely, Kirsty did not hear the familiar note of pain come to his voice at the mention of his mother. She took it as a good sign.

"I wasn't alone," she said lightly. "George was here with me."

Derek sighed, impatient with her teasing.

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