Hope(less)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17 

I used the paneled wall for support as I made my way to the bathroom. Sweat beaded my forehead when I finally stepped onto the cold, tiled floor. I flicked on the light and fan then set my clothes on the toilet tank. 

Knowing I had limited time, I immediately turned the shower on to let the water warm. I moved to the sink, caught my reflection in the mirror, and cringed. Sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, and hair that stuck out at varying angles, reflected back at me. Without a doubt, Clay really did care about me. I shook my head then brushed my teeth, giving the water an extra minute to heat. 

When I finished, I struggled out of my clothes and further depleted my waning energy. I eyed the high edge of the tub and thought back to when Clay had insisted on helping me. If I fell, I'd never hear the end of it. Bracing myself, I successfully stepped over the edge and tugged the curtain closed. 

The hot spray felt great, but I didn't pause to warm up. If I stayed too long, I'd lose what little energy I had or Clay would discover me. I grabbed the all-in-one hair wash and lathered my natty head. My arms grew heavy as I rinsed, and with relief, I turned off the water. Navigating the high edge proved more difficult the second time, and I clutched at the wall after a near fall. 

The fan worked to suck the built up heat and steam from the room as I hurried to dry off. My unsteady legs forced me to sit down to finish dressing. The cold helped hurry the process. 

I used my towel to bundle my dirty clothes then moved to the door. Though it felt like the process took forever, I knew only a few minutes had passed since Clay left. If I could get to my room and dry my hair, I'd be home free. I pulled open the door and yelped. The steady thump in my head increased its tempo. 

Clay stood just outside the door, leaning against the wall. He held a glass of water in one hand and two pills in the other. I tried to read his face, but he kept it perfectly blank. I hoped that meant he wasn't angry with me. Desperate to relieve the pain in my head, I released my death grip on the door and gulped down the pills. 

When I tried handing him the empty glass, he shook his head and picked me up again. My feet had been getting cold, anyway. Holding the empty glass, I sighed and rested my head against his chest. 

He went toward my room, and I almost complained until I saw what he'd done. He'd changed the sheets and remade the bed. Socks, slippers, and my hairbrush lay on the quilt, waiting. He'd known I would go for the shower and had given me privacy even though he hadn't wanted me to get out of bed. Not only that, but he'd gotten everything ready for when I finished. 

I looked at him. He studied me, his arms still securely around me. I leaned in, kissed his cheek tenderly, and hesitated there. He smelled so good. I just wanted to curl back up with him. But I couldn't. I pulled back and looked at him again. 

"You are so sweet, and I truly appreciate this, but I'm not going back to bed, Clay. I need to see Luke." 

The muscles in his jaw clenched as he stepped into the room and carefully set me on the bed. He left without a backward glance. 

I stared at the empty doorway puzzled until the outer door slammed hard enough that I heard the wood crack. I flinched. 

"I shouldn't have said I needed to see Luke." 

I hurried to put on my socks and slippers while hoping Clay wouldn't go too far. The movement made my head feel like it would fall off at any moment. The pills needed to kick in soon. I rubbed my brow again, but it didn't relieve the pain at all. This wasn't a normal headache. I just needed to deal with it. With a sigh, I stood.