Shrink

22

I doused my face and rinsed my mouth enough times to dispel the taste of bile and casserole from my tonsils, before breathing somewhat deeper, and shakily making my way back to the table, where Sweets and Daisy had already begun to contemplate dessert. Daisy seemed to be rambling on about some decadent tooth-rotting dish as Sweets only nodded absently when she sought his opinion. Our eyes locked before I could glue mine to the floor, and I knew he saw my painted-over pain immediately.
I swallowed before sitting down, smiling jovially, even though it hurt my burning lips to stretch that much.
"Sorry, upset stomach," I said, tilting my head towards my mostly finished casserole.
Daisy smiled sympathetically, her rouged lips forming an attractive, symmetrical smile.
Sweets said nothing, but continued to drill his gaze into the side of my head, so in my fed-up state, I swung my eyes up to meet his.
His brown eyes were hard and calculated, like when he was evaluating me.
I met his intense stare and raised a brow and challenged him to pursue the reason for my dismissal. His jaw began to clench, and I knew he wouldn't forget this.
Sweets returned his gaze to Daisy, as did mine as she awaited our response on some dessert she'd settled on. We both flicked our gazes to each other, silently asking the other if they had any clue what she'd asked us. We both nodded slowly.
This lunch was much too long.
By the time we had paid and left, it was well into the afternoon, and I already wanted to collapse into bed.
Sweets and Daisy were slightly ahead of me, as couples walk, hand in hand and talking amongst each other. Every now and again I'd catch a backwards glance from Sweets, but he soon gave up on trying to confront me, favouring the pretty woman in front of him.
We made it to the hospital, and suddenly I wanted to go home again.
As Daisy departed inside, I made my excuses and began to walk back to the hotel.
It didn't take long for Sweets to catch up to me, but his persistence was beginning to become tiresome.
"What happened in the restaurant?" he asked, concern dripping heavily from his voice.
"Just got sick," I mumbled, hands shoved so deep into my sweater pockets I feared they might rip holes.
"You had a flashback," he said, realizing. "you remembered something that made you sick enough to leave the table."
"Go away, Sweets," I bit out, my emotions from earlier beginning to boil back up to the surface.
I quickened my strides but his easy long ones put mine to shame.
"Was it when Daisy mentioned home?" He was entirely staring at me, head down to gauge the reaction on my face.
"Go. Away," I was nearly begging, my voice the sound of rocks grinding against each other.
"Then tell me, I'm supposed to help you, Pap"—
I looked up to chew him out, when suddenly I caught the glare of headlights barreling down the street, and a bright metal bumper that would soon be too close to avoid.
Before I realized what was happening, I had grabbed Sweets' arm and was falling away with him. I watched in slow motion as the car's bumper guard caught him in the shin as he was falling towards me. His confused expression slowly became shock, and soon one of excruciating pain.
I landed in a ditch, my eyes squeezed shut. When the wind had returned to my lungs and the clouds in the blue sky stopped spinning, I attempted to sit up.
Gingerly, I managed to prop myself up on my elbow, the other hand still clutching Sweet's jacket sleeve.
Sweets!
I found him sprawled at my feet, face down. He stirred suddenly, grunting in confusion and then pain.
"Argh," he groaned, clenching his teeth. "Papillon...my leg.."
I crawled over to him, my back still extremely tender, but less important than his right leg, which had already begun to swell enormously when I pulled back his pant leg.
I sucked in a breath. No one was around.
"Help!" I screamed, knowing we were obscured in the ditch. "somebody call 911!"
"Papillon," Sweets managed to get out, squeezing my hand. "it hurts.."
"I know," I began, trying to sound like I knew what I was doing. "I know it hurts, but help is on the way."
He tried to sit up sharply, dust and debris clinging to his hair and ripped clothes.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Might I ask, what's so...funny?" he groaned.
"I'm sorry, but Sweets, your leg is literally broken after getting hit by a car, and you're asking if I'm okay?"
I chuckled, kneeling by his chest as I watched him go through waves of pain.
"Please don't leave me," he pleaded, his voice cracking as he fought off the agony.
"I'm here with you, Sweets," I reassured him, squeezing his hand back.
He continued to clutch my hand tightly until an ambulance from the hospital a literal kilometre away pulled up beside the ditch.