As Long As She Lives (full published version!)

Chapter 11

Razor-winged butterflies scoured Cait's stomach. Daylight through Emilie's lace curtains confused her. Ten a.m. She must have slept for more than fourteen hours. Her behaviour the night before and images of Umoja under attack came to her in flashes of humiliation and terror. Her muscles ached. Every joint throbbed and her spine was a chain of cold fire. You loved me? You loved me! She cringed at the memory. The words were bad enough, but the desperation in her voice was mortifying.

Riley would no doubt be kind and sensible, remind her that an inability to control emotions was part of PTSD, but she knew she should be stronger than this by now. Letting Riley help her was one thing, but leaning on him was something else altogether. She needed to be strong. Now.

She swung her legs off the edge of the bed and gritted her teeth as first the pads of her feet, then her ankles objected to taking her weight. She reached for her water – even the bottle felt heavy – and took her morning meds and paracetamol. Her body would have to do as it was told.

Dressing herself, she managed her underwear but lost her balance trying to put her feet into the legs of her jeans and thudded to the floor. She bit back a cry and froze, praying no-one had heard her. Out of luck. Long, heavy strides on the hallway floorboards approached, then stopped at her door. A tentative knock.

"Kitty?" Riley called. "You okay?"

She forced a smile into her voice. "I'm fine!"

"You sure?"

"Just getting dressed!" Or failing to.

"Okay. There's breakfast when you're ready."

She wasn't sure if it was the thought of food or of having to face everyone, but she was suddenly nauseated. "Thank you but I don't think I could eat anything."

There was a pause and Cait could feel his look of patient concern through the door.

"Sean's gone. We're alone."

The nausea lessened. She rolled her eyes. How did Riley know what was going on in her head better than she did?

"You need to eat with your meds," Riley continued. "I'll put some toast on." His footsteps set off back down the hall. She sighed and set about untangling her legs.

When she got to the kitchen, Riley was moving from bench, to cupboard, to fridge, fussing over a mug of tea and watching the toaster.

"I looked in on you a few times," he said over his shoulder, "and you didn't seem to be having any nightmares so I thought I'd let you sleep."

"Thanks."

He brought a mug of tea to the table and set it down in front of a chair then returned to the bench. She sat and picked up the tea. The hot liquid would help the pain killers kick in faster.

"We told Felicity and Daisy that you were sick and would call them when you were better."

Cait nodded, it was true enough. "Thanks."

Riley set a plate of toast in front of her then joined her at the table. She reached for the butter but before she could reach too far he picked it up and moved it closer to her plate. He did the same with a jar of jam but withdrew it mid-air. "Oh. That's strawberry."

Before she could say that strawberry was fine, he was up and fossicking in the fridge.

"Here we go." He set the pot of raspberry jam down next to her plate and sat. "Juice. Do you want juice?" He leaped up and disappeared into the pantry. She heard tins and jars shuffling around Graggy's paper-lined shelves. "I think there's a long-life pack in here. Shit!"