isn’t fair to him, for me to get close to Sarah. Tongue misses her. It would be like rubbing salt in a large bleeding wound.
I stand, giving myself a minute before walking, when my head spins again. When the world stops spinning, I head toward the bathroom and plug the tub with the stopper. When I inhale, there’s a rattle in my chest followed by a quick cough. Flipping the nozzle, hot water starts to fill the tub and I open the cabinet to grab the lavender bath salts.
“Holy Moly.” I stare at the empty package and ball it up, then throw it in the wastebin. I didn’t mean to pour the entire packet in the tub. It just kind of happened.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Three little knocks tell me someone is at the bedroom door. Mumbling incoherent words to myself that I can’t even understand, I take a look at myself in the mirror and gasp, horrified at what I’m seeing. “Oh my god, how can he love me when I look like this?” My hair is a rat’s nest, completely tangled on one side, and sticking to my scalp.
Probably from sweat…
Another reason why I need to bathe.
My face is pale, black circles sag under my eyes, and the tip of my nose is red. Don’t get me started on the constant wetness dripping from my nostrils. I look and feel disgusting.
But I don’t have the energy to care about how I look for someone that isn’t Tongue right now. I meander to the bedroom door, open it, then lean my head against the cool wood.
Oh, that’s nice.
Doc’s face comes to view. He gives me a sad, sympathetic filled smile as he hands me a big mug of tea. On the side it says, ‘Property of Tongue.’ All the ol’ ladies have their own mug. Mine is red with black lettering and there is a small black heart under Tongue’s name. It’s my favorite. “Hey, Daphne,” Doc greets, then sees Tongue asleep on the bed. “Wow, he took my advice.”
“Only because I asked him to.”
“You look… better.”
“Liar,” I call him out and take the mug from his hands. The heat warms my cold hands. “Thank you, for this. After I take a bath, I think I might take one of those pills too and sleep. I tried, but I’m so congested. How is it possible to have a runny and stuffy nose at the same time? What sense does that make?”
“Sickness never does. If you need anything, let me know, okay? You look like you might need an IV bag soon if you don’t start getting color to your face.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Nothing can keep me down.” I take a sip of the hot tea and moan when the honey flavored liquid heats my sore raw throat. “I’m going to take a bath. I’ll see everyone later.”
“Later, Daphne,” Doc says as he shuts the door.
I keep the mug tightly wrapped in my hands and inhale the steam billowing from the top. For a second, I’m actually able to breathe. I scoot my feet across the floor, not having enough strength to walk normally, and step in the bathroom.
The white ceramic tub is almost full, so I hurry to turn it off so it doesn’t overflow. I’m already tired from walking so much. I reach across the tub and set the tea in the inner corner so I can sip on it when I’m soaking. I undress, sliding off Tongue’s shirt and sweatpants, then step into the water and sit down.
The water splashes against the sides, almost rocking out of the tub and onto the floor. My aching body is appreciative for the heat engulfing me and the steam filling my lungs. My skin turns light pink from the temperature and the congestion in my chest lightens. My butt slides across the bottom of the tub as I sink lower. My chin hits the surface of the water and I tilt my head back, shutting my eyes as the lavender scent of the bath salts seep into my lungs.
“Daphne!” Tongue suddenly screams for me, the urgency and fear startling. This time, water does hit the floor. “Daphne,” he cries out for me again. The pain in his voice has me hurrying out of the tub, dripping water everywhere, and rushing to the bedroom.
He isn’t awake.
“Daphne,” he twists in the sheets, the tendons in his neck tensed, and his knuckles are white as he grips the comforter.
Soaking wet, I jump