Part 39 (2/2)
Drew had to go out of town the next morning, but surprised me Friday afternoon by showing up at the Scorpions baseball game with me. I loved watching him walk toward me knowing that he was mine. Our eyes locked with the same smile. He missed me when he was gone. I could tell.
We ate ribs again at the little sports bar because he said that he was in love with them. We only drank one beer because we had no Marta at the house to drive one of the cars home.
He flew me to Ubud, Indonesia for our eighth honeymoon and my birthday. It was already pa.s.sed both, but he decided that we needed to celebrate. I was game. I had to make an appointment with Dr. Tharp before he would tell me anything. I would have never thought Indonesia could have been so exotic. It was, and we had a blast. The food too was exotic, and I loved trying all of the different cuisines. I had things that Drew had to p.r.o.nounce and order for me. He loved it and laughed when I would try to say the names as well.
He gave me a beautiful necklace for my birthday and a brand new wedding set that I was sure cost more than I cared to know. He took the set back that I had been wearing. I almost ruined his moment when I stared blankly at him sliding the rings off of my finger. It was dej vu.
This happened before. Drew sensed it too.
”Morgan,” he softly spoke, pulling my eyes from my fingers to his eyes.
”What's wrong with the rings that I have been wearing?” I asked, trying to recover.
”They were put there for the wrong reason. I think you know that. This set is truly from my heart, and I hope you will always wear them.”
I smiled as he slipped them on my wedding finger.
”I will try my best,” I said, and he knew what I meant by that. ”I love you,” I said kissing him.
”Read the back of the necklace,” Drew said.
”Please give me twenty more,” I read, and I hoped that I could.
We spent seven days in Ubud. We had amazing food, watched some shows, joined in a street dance, and made love several times a day, including the plane ride home. It's a good thing we had a private jet, I was sure we would have been thrown to our deaths.
Other than hating Derik, my life was perfect, and I was working on that. I had finally gotten the number for Mr. Callaway one afternoon when Drew left me in his office while he got us something to drink. I had the yellow post-it in my pocket, and when Drew left the next day I went to town with Marta. We walked around a p.a.w.n store for a little bit and then had lunch at my favorite cafe. That was where I was going to make the call to Mr. Callaway so that I didn't have to use my cellphone.
Marta and I were standing at the counter laughing with Timmy and Jewels when I heard my name.
”Riley?” I heard, and instantly turned my head.
Everything came cras.h.i.+ng back to me like a tsunami. I stood frozen while my whole life flooded my brain, my home in West Virginia, my parents, my little lost brother, Drew...Oh G.o.d Drew. I thought I was going to throw up right there. My entire retched life was being played out right before my eyes. My head hurt. It hurt horrible. Was it the flood of memories? Why did I have such an excruciating headache all of a sudden?
”Dawson,” I managed to say.
”Morgan, I think you need to sit down,” Marta said, concerned with my ghostly white complexion.
”Riley, please talk to me,” Dawson begged.
Marta was right. I needed to sit down. My head felt like it was going to explode and the sick feeling I had in the pit of my stomach was unbearable. Dawson, it was Dawson, my sheriff. I couldn't breathe. What was happening?
”I'm sorry, but you evidently have the wrong person,” Marta told Dawson, but she knew something was up too, she had to. I didn't just have this reaction for no reason. She helped me slide into a booth while Timmy brought me water.
”Marta, could you leave us alone for a second please?” I asked.
”I don't think that's a good Idea, Morgan. You look like you're ready to pa.s.s out.”
That's because I am...
”I'm okay. I'll just be a minute.”
Marta walked back to the counter, and I knew all eyes were on Dawson and me.
He sat across from me and looked like he didn't understand. I didn't understand. What the h.e.l.l just happened? What a sick f.u.c.king joke. Was life really this cruel?
”There's a high school two blocks north of here.
I'll be there at six tonight. I can't talk to you here. Meet me there,” I explained.
”Riley, I'm not sure what's going on here,” he stated. He too looked white as a ghost.
”I can't talk to you here. Please just meet me over there,” I got up and Marta followed me out. I needed air, not that the Nevada heat had much to offer, but I had to try.
I didn't know if Dawson would show up or not. h.e.l.l, I didn't know if I would show up.
”What the h.e.l.l, Morgan?” Marta asked as we walked to my car.
”You drive, Marta,” I said, ignoring her and getting into the pa.s.senger side.
”Will you tell me what the h.e.l.l that was all about?” she asked again as she pulled on her seatbelt. I didn't put mine on. I wanted to crash and burn.
”That was someone from my past, Marta. I remember him.”
”You do! That's great. We should call Dr. Tharp.”
”It's not great. He is someone Drew wouldn't understand,” I snapped at her. I didn't mean to snap. I just didn't know what to think myself, and I wasn't about to explain it to her.
”Oh,” Marta said. I could tell she thought that he was someone that I was cheating on Drew with. I didn't care. I wasn't even going to try. I knew her enough to know that she would mind her own business.
I went right to mine and Drew's bed and lay down.
I couldn't take the pain in my head. I couldn't think about anything until it stopped. Marta brought me the water and pain pills that I asked her to bring to me.
My cellphone rang. I didn't want to answer it. I knew that he could tell something was wrong from where ever the h.e.l.l he was. I didn't care. I didn't want his pity party at the moment.
”h.e.l.lo,” I almost yelled. Even my own voice echoed through my head.
”What's wrong, Morgan?” He asked concerned.
”I just have a headache from h.e.l.l. I need to rest for a little bit. It was probably just the heat.”
”I'm calling Dr. Tharp,” he demanded.
”I don't need Dr. Tharp. I just need to rest for a few minutes. I'm fine.”
”Okay. Go rest. I will call you in a couple hours to see how you're doing. I love you,” he added.
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