The Real You

25. Leave out all the rest

#I've realized there are several typos and mistakes in the last chapter. My apologies. But I really don't have time for revisits if I want to complete the book. I'll find time and edit them. Please don't mind :) Lots of Love <3 

"You are sober" I said for the 28th time.

Yes, I was counting.

My mother was so happy seeing me back, it felt like a dream to me. I thought I'd be embarrassed in front of Delan but she received him so graciously. She cooked for us, offered him a few of my father's clothes, and wouldn't stop being thankful to God.

And it's a huge thing when Mrs. McQueen mentions God. I scouted around the house to spot alcohol bottles or cigar boxes but there were none. She has completely flushed those toxic things out of her life. She smiled at me while I munched on that Lasagna she made. Though human food doesn't excite Delan, he gave a compliment or two to her. But only I noticed him struggling to swallow the food.

"I almost lost my daughter," she said, "No amount of alcohol can take that pain away"

I was stunned. Delan had to gently nudge me under the table. It was my turn to speak. I smiled hesitantly and continued to make small talk. After we were done, my mom somehow interpreted on her own that Delan would be sleeping with me in my room. He didn't even bother to object.

"Are you going to sleep with me?" I asked and immediately regretted it.

His face turned red and he cleared his throat, "I will crash on your blue bedroom couch"

"Okay" I said to avoid more awkwardness.

When we entered my room, the doubt came to my mind.

"Delan?"

"Yeah?"

"How did you know there is a blue couch in my room?"

I caught him off-guard. He looked clearly flustered and avoided meeting my eye. He picked one of my pillows from my bed and placed it on the couch with unnecessary gentleness. And I felt that again - the weird feeling in my stomach that was slowly crawling to my heart. The same one that overwhelmed me when he said that we should forget our short intimate moments.

When I kept gazing at him, following his every physical action, he sighed loudly and said, "I guessed"

I nodded my head in fake appreciation, "What an accurate guess!"

"I know right" he said,disinterested.

The feeling won't go away. Instead of avoiding it, I decided to concentrate on it. I lied down on my bed, placed my hands on top of my chest, and closed my eyes. I tried to mentally trace the route of that weird discomfort. It was all over my torso, pushing and urging. It felt like something was trying to break out of the shackles.

"Don't do that" His voice scared me. I gasped and opened my eyes.

"Huh?" I said, disoriented.

"Whatever you are doing, stop it," He said, relaxing on the couch.

"Why do you care?"

He laughed, "You look like you are having constipation"

I gasped and threw my pillow at him, which he effortlessly caught and launched back. It hit my face though. I took it, pushed it onto the mattress with force, and buried my face in it. 

His phone began ringing.

He sighed and brought it to his ear, "Now?" was the first thing he said.

I frowned. He asked me where the television was in my house. If he wasn't blind, he would have seen that it was right next to him on the wall. I pointed at it and he switched it on. He asked for the remote and I passed it on to him from my bedside table. He flipped channels to finally settle on a News channel...