Where Do Broken Hearts Go?

41. Hoarse

"It's a JOKE, Angel. Geez! Don't take everything so literal." She giggles as I'm gawking my ring, feeling more ashamed than before. 

Affair? Have I been having an affair? You know what's worse than a sexual affair, an emotional one. That's exa– 

A hand blankets over my wedding ring. 

That was probably the best thing to happen. My thoughts have been suffocating lately. The only hint of solace I can find is in the same person causing the distress. 

"Angel." Lana catches my attention as she's nearly lowered onto the table, absolving in a carefully soft tone. "It was a joke." She claims, tapping my hand.

Painting a fake smile on my face, I shake my head, ridding my conscious quiet. "I know. My mind is all over the place. I'm weighing out the pros and cons of staying or leaving.

"Let me make it easy for you. Stay."

THURSDAY

Marcel said he wouldn't be home until Tuesday. When Wednesday and Thursday came around and I hadn't heard from him, I grew worried.

I wrapped up my workday at 4:30. On my way down the steps, I pull my phone to my ear after tapping his incognito contact. The phone continues to ring as it has for the past couple of days.

"Where is he?"

Just as I'm pulling the phone away from my ear, time lapses on the cracked screen. I nearly knock myself out by throwing the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" My tone comes as a contained, yet frantic wonder. Before he can accost with his own greeting, I'm on to the next question. "Are you okay?" I tuck my hair behind my ear, stopping in the middle of the garage.

"Been sleep." His voice is evidence of that, but rougher than I'm used to. Still, it's very much welcomed and a relief to say the least.

"You've been sleeping for the past two days?" I hiss. When I'm not met with a common quip, but a tired sigh, I sink back into concern. "Marcel?"

"Yeah? I've been sleeping since I got back home." He pauses to hack up a lung. Oh. "Fuck. I got sick Tuesday after my shoot. Someone had a bug." The rasp in his voice sounds like it pains him.

"I just got off work. Can I stop by the store and pick up something to make you feel better?"

"No, I don't want you catching this."

While he's  suffering, I blush at his concern for my well-being. I can't let him go on like this. 

"Well, I don't want you to have this bug any longer."

"Blowing up my phone and shit like you miss me."

Avoiding the actuality and resuming my route to my car, I ridicule his brash tongue with a faulty smirk. "Stop cursing Marcel."

Through a raw and itchy throat, he uses the convenient excuse, "I'm sick."

"I'm about to head to the store to pick up some meds. Is there anything else you need?" I unlock my car.

"Haribo."

Rolling my eyes, I ask for his choice of gummies, "Bears, worms, dinosaurs?"

"Dinosaurs." He chooses. "There's a spare key in my mailbox... There's a little compartment inside. I can't make it down the stairs... I got sick this morning doing that."

"Text me your address and I'll be over in a bit."

"Thank you, princess."

As a grin spreads across my face, so does my butterflies' wings.