Jack: How’s your week-end?
Prudence: Awesome.
Prudence: You sure you’re okay, though?
Prudence: We can come back at any time.
Jack: I’m perfect.
Jack: I’ve got everything I’ve ever wanted.
JACK
There’s something wrong.
I’m not sure what it is, but I don’t feel so good.
The perks of living with a disease such as this one, is that I can tell when something stops being right.
And my heart’s not beating right. It’s too irregular, too labored. Like it misses a few beats and then beats one too many times to try and fix the missing one.
My lungs feel too tight, and I can’t seem to breathe properly no matter how deep I’m inhaling.
I need to move on with my list. There are still a couple of things that I need to do, I can’t—I can’t go now.
Ikram stirs next to me, his arm sliding around me to pull me closer with a sleepy sigh.
“Why are you already awake?” He mumbles behind me, his warm breath tickling my nape.
“I didn’t mean to wake you. You should go back to sleep.”
He drops a kiss on my shoulder. “Hmhm. If you’re getting up, I’m getting up.”
I close my eyes, trying to control my breath, to hide how short it is. Tears prick the back of my eyes.
“Just stay here a little longer,” I croak. “I’m going to make some coffee, and then I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”
He sits up and leans forward to frown at me.
“No, no. You stay here and I’ll take care of that.”
“I can do it, I’m not made of sugar,” I groan, but regret my tone instantly.
“I know,” he says softly, sitting back on his hunches. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
I sit up and cross my legs under the sheet, burying my head in my hands with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap, it’s just… I don’t know.”
His arm circles my shoulders as he pulls me against him, setting his head on top of mine.
“Let’s just make breakfast together. I think you’d look hot as hell naked under an apron.”
That pulls a chuckle out of me. I nod and he kisses me softly before getting out of the bed, giving me a nice view of his bare ass.
I need to go about my day like my heart doesn’t feel foreign and my lungs aren’t getting too tight in my chest. I can’t let Ikram know, or he’ll get worried and call Prue. And if Prue shows up when she’s supposed to be enjoying her getaway weekend with Nate, I’m gonna hate myself.
I need to move on with my list.
“There’s a flour butt print on the couch,” Ikram muses.
