Trisha gently massages my feet, shaking her head. "Heels probably weren't the best choice, Gen."
I roll my eyes, setting down my book onto my stomach. "I'm fine."
"Well, you could have told me you were covered in bruises and cuts- I would have brought my makeup for your big date tonight."
"Honestly, it's okay."
She stares at me, the sound of the soap opera she's been watching for the past hour loud in the background. I prop myself up onto my elbows, raising my brows in question. I've never seen the expression on her face before.
She shakes her head.
"No, tell me."
Pushing her curly, brown hair back from her face, I realize she's about to cry.
"I-I just- I didn't know if I was ever going to see you again-"
I sit up immediately as she breaks down, dropping her head into her hands. The awkward part of me doesn't know what to do. I choose to hug her.
"I'm okay, really. Trisha."
"I know. I know. I'm sorry- I just love you, Genny. And you scared the shit out of me. Don't ever do that again!"
I chuckle, leaning my head onto her shoulder. "Okay."
She pulls back, wiping her eyes. She laughs, groaning when she sees her mascara smudged on her fingers. "Great! Look what you made me do!"
"I'm sorry." I chuckle as she looks back at me.
"... But be honest with me Gen- how are you doing? None of this I'm fine crap. Someone doesn't go through a freaking tsunami and come out completely unscathed."
I settle myself back onto the cushion and reposition the heat compress onto my stomach. "I-I'm having a hard time sleeping- that's the worst part."
"Nightmares, you mean?"
"It doesn't even have to be a nightmare, Trish. I could be awake. Unfortunately, the memories don't go away. It's hard not to- not to get scared."
"I don't doubt it... Whenever you feel like that, call me, Gen, really. I want to help you."
I smile, nodding. "Thanks."
She leans back, relaxing and sniffles. "We need to paint your toenails. Maybe it will make them look less deformed."
"Gee thanks." I laugh, throwing my pillow at her.
"Well? You're going to his house aren't you?"
I nod. "Yes, he is cooking."
"He is cooking. Alright, well, you should be well groomed then."
"It's not like anything is going to happen, Trisha!"
"Well, we're both pretty beaten up..."
"... Why is he beaten up?"
I stare at her, scoffing before I realize she doesn't even know where I met him. She doesn't know anything about him.
"I-I met him in Thailand, Trish."
Her eyes widen. "WHAT!"
"He was the reason I was able to get back here. I would have been stuck there if he hadn't gotten my passport and identified me."
YOU ARE READING
What do you do when disaster strikes? You survive. On the night before her entire life changes, Genevieve Harding was walking along the shoreline with a man she'd only just met. Tristan Maddox. A man who grazed the pages of the magazines and newspa...