I look at myself in the mirror and am not at all pleased with my reflection. But I suppose if he saw me last night after puking, this will be an improvement.
Hope:Sure
I don’t want to put on actual clothes and don’t want to answer the door in my bathrobe, so I borrow one of Lauren’s many silk caftans. Usually I try to avoid dressing like an aging Texas socialite, but if ever there is an appropriate time for a caftan, it’s while convalescing on a cruise ship.
Because I don’t want to look like I have a wasting illness, I also dab a few dots of concealer over the dark circles under my eyes and apply a little blush to my cheeks. I’m still disturbingly pallid, but there’s a knock at the door before I can figure out what else to do about it.
When I open the door, Felix is standing in the hallway looking remarkably stressed.
“Good morning,” I say.
“Is it, though?”
“I’ve had better.”
“Were you able to sleep?”
“A little. Not my best night of REM.”
He holds out a pill bottle. “I brought you these. Just remembered this morning that I packed them or I would have given them to you last night.”
“What are they?”
“Electrolyte tablets. For hydration. You just put them in water. They’re a bit vile, to be honest, but they work.”
“Much better than Lauren dragging me downstairs for intravenous fluids.”
“It was that bad?”
“I’ll spare you the details.” A yawn overtakes me, and I realize I should lie down. “I think I need to go back to bed.”
“And miss poolside Pilates?” he asks with mock horror.
“Tragically, yes.”
“Well, text me if you need anything. I’ll check on you this afternoon.” He pauses. “Unless you now associate me with nausea and would prefer never to see me again.”
“I was worried it would be the other way around.”
“Nope. I’m afraid we’re permanently trauma bonded.”
“Can’t wait to spend a beautiful, codependent life together.”
“Great. I’ll buy you a ring at the gift shop. Apparently they have really good diamonds.”
“Are you love bombing me?”
“I think you’re the one who proposed.”
“Mrs. Segrave would actually be an appropriate name for me after last night.”
“Flattered you’re taking my name.”
I yawn again. I want to keep flirting with him but suddenly I can barely hold my eyes open.
“Sorry, I’m keeping you,” he says. “I’ll go. Get some rest.”
“Maybe we can hang out later?” I venture. “Plan the wedding?”
