C is for Carter - Page 64

The next morning, I called Carter early and told him I wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it into work. It wasn’t a lie. I just wasn’t totally clear on the fact that I wasn’t sick.

I took a long bath and put on my favorite lounge clothes, then spent the day curled up on the couch watching TV. I should have been doing what I told Harleigh I needed to do and thinking the whole situation through, but I decided that day I needed to just put it out of my mind and let my subconscious deal with it for a bit before I got into the real nitty-gritty of thinking about it.

Somewhere in between dozing through a repeat of an old sitcom and figuring out what I was going to make for dinner, my doorbell rang. I wrapped my blanket around myself and padded over to the door. Peering out the peephole, I saw Carter on the other side of the door.

Bracing myself, I opened the door, and he presented me with a bouquet of flowers.

“I thought I would come by and try to make you feel better,” he said.

“Thank you,” I said, stepping out of the way so he could come inside. “These are beautiful.”

He held up a takeout bag as he came in. “I got you soup.”

I sat down on the couch while he went to the kitchen and came back with a bowl full of soup sitting on a plate with a stack of crackers. He put it in my lap, and I suddenly burst into tears.

“Thank you,” I managed to say through them.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Why are you crying?”

I looked at him and tried to find the words. Eventually, I just shook my head slightly.

“It’s just that I appreciate you so much. This was really sweet.”

Carter kissed me and pulled me in to cuddle up beside him. I wanted to tell him, but I was too scared of his reaction. He stayed while I ate the soup and crackers and watched a movie. He was about to put another on when I yawned widely.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked. I nodded, and he leaned in for another kiss. “Alright. I’m going to go, then. You need your rest. Go ahead and take the rest of the week off.”

“Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

“Just feel better. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

29

CARTER

It’d been a few days, and I had only talked to Lauren sporadically during that time. It was starting to worry me, but when I did call her, she seemed like she was feeling very under the weather, and I figured leaving her alone was probably for the best. That said, it had been a few days, and I was feeling like she could use a pick-me-up. Something to remind her how much I cared for her and at the same time something that would make her physically feel better.

Taking off work early, I was excited by my plan. I drove all the way up to Knoxville around lunchtime with a thermos that kept liquid hot for hours. The restaurant we had gone to was famous for its soup, especially a chicken soup that was said to have cured a cold for Elvis back in the sixties. When I got to the restaurant, I delighted in the fact that they were used to calls like I made and even poured the soup into the thermos for me.

I drove back to Ashford, the giant thermos seat belted into the passenger’s seat for safekeeping. I made it back to her place a few hours later and checked myself in the mirror before getting out. I knew she wasn’t feeling well, but I still had the impulse to look my best for her. She was worth sprucing up for. She always would be, I felt.

I knocked on the door, and she opened it a few minutes later, looking perky. I held out the thermos, and she looked at it confusedly and ushered me inside. I beamed at her as she opened the top and sniffed the delicious soup inside.

“Oh my God, did you go all the way to Knoxville for this?” she asked.

“I did. I thought you could use it.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, and then it seemed like a pall cast over her face.

“Lauren?” I asked, and she moved her eyes back to mine. “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” she said tentatively. “Let me put this away.”

She opened the fridge and put the whole thermos inside, then followed me into the living room, sitting on the couch.

“Look,” I said, “I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve been acting really weirdly lately. Is something wrong?”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her head falling back on her shoulders. Then she opened them and looked directly at me.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
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