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It was late the next morning when I opened my eyes and I instantly regretted doing so. Searing pain shot into my head and I groaned loudly. I hadn’t felt this bad since university. Someone had left a glass of water by my bed, which I gratefully drank down, only to bring it all up again the moment it hit my stomach. Thankfully a bucket had been placed beside me so I didn’t make a mess of the carpet.
When I had completely emptied the contents of my stomach I curled into a ball and placed my pillow over my head. It took a while, but eventually I managed to get back to sleep.
I felt a little better when I woke up the second time. My head still pounded and my tongue felt swollen and furry, but at least I was able to keep a little of the water down this time. Someone had refilled the glass while I had been asleep and replaced the bucket. They must have also done something to freshen the room as there was no lingering smell of vomit.
My curtains had been opened and sunlight streamed into the room. A soft breeze came in through the open window and I would have appreciated it had I been able to think of anything other than how much my head hurt.
I stumbled out of bed and closed the curtains, blocking out the light which was making my eyes hurt, but decided to leave the window open.
I was back in bed once more when my mother entered the room without knocking.
“You’re alive then,” she said.
“I’ll have to take your word for that,” I moaned. ‘How’s Rachel?”
“Lucky for you she is still asleep. I don’t think she would appreciate seeing you like this. Rob is just as bad.”
I groaned again and placed the pillow over my head once more.
“Sit up and drink this,” she said, handing me a steaming cup of black coffee when I complied.
I took a sip, winced, then took another.
She sat on the edge of the bed and regarded me critically. “I don’t like seeing you like this. It’s not like you to let things affect you so badly.”
“Tell me about it.” I tried to laugh, but it made my head and stomach muscles hurt.
“I don’t think it is a good idea for you to see any more of Rachel,” she said. “When she recovers, Spatha or Katana can take over as guide. Stay here and get her out of your system.”
“No.” The thought of never seeing Rachel again caused me more pain than my hangover.
“Then what do you suggest? You cannot go on like this.”
“Let me think about it when my head stops pounding.” I really did not feel well enough to be having this conversation.
“Well if you won’t leave her, make her yours. I see no other solution. Do whatever you need to to extend the journey. Just be yourself and let her get to know the real you.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Well try harder,” my mother said unsympathetically, then stood up and left the room.
I drank some more of the coffee then tried to go back to sleep.
It was getting dark when the sound of someone knocking at my door woke me up.
“Come in,” I called out and was pleased to find that my headache had almost gone.
My father walked in carrying a tray. He put it on the bedside table and looked at me critically. “You don’t look too good.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly.
“Your mother thought that you might not be able to make it to dinner, so asked me to bring you this. I think she spoils you.” I nodded my head in agreement. “I hear you had a chat about Rachel,” he continued. ‘I think you have made the right decision by continuing to be her guide. I like her; we all do, and she will be very good for you if you manage to win her round. Good luck.”
Without waiting for a response he stood up and left the room.
“I’m going to need it,” I muttered before looking at the contents on the tray. It made me feel nauseous again, so I placed it on the floor beside me and lay down once more. Closing my eyes I drifted back to sleep.