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My eyes snapped open, and a wave of nausea washed over me.
Oh hell.
I hadn’t been nauseated for two weeks, and suddenly, I felt like I was going to upchuck my cookies all over Jay and my bed.
I slid out from under his arm, and as soon as my feet touched the floor, his arm reached out for me. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just have to use the bathroom,” I whispered.
His hand left my back, and I stood. My stomach rolled and sweat beaded on my upper lip. I shuffled to the bathroom, praying I would make it there before my stomach completely revolted.
I flipped the light on in the bathroom and caught a glimpse of my pale and clammy skin before I kneeled in front of the toilet and whipped the seat back.
All the delicious food I had eaten that day came roaring back up.
I heard the door open between gasping for air and felt Jay kneel beside me. “Shh, Del. You’re okay.”
Another wave of nausea hit me, and I wretched again. I dry heaved until everything was out of my stomach and I was fully hugging the toilet while Jay held my hair back. I panted heavily and closed my eyes.
“All done?” he whispered.
“I think so,” I croaked.
Jay gathered me in his arms, turned me from the toilet, and flushed. “Can you stand?” he asked softly.
My legs were weak and felt like Jell-O. “I don’t think so.”
Jay lifted me in his arms, and I felt a sharp cramp in my stomach.
I moaned and clutched my stomach. “Jay,” I gasped.
“Shh, Del. I got you.”
Another sharp pain came, and this time, I felt it all the way to my back. “No, Jay.” He stopped moving, and I looked up into his eyes. “Something's not right.”
*
