Chapter 33 - Hurts to lie to him

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I'm dressed in my pajamas, and I've just finished taking off my makeup when the headache hits.

And it hits bad.

Fuck. No. Not now.

The weight of the pain in my head has me sinking to my knees on the cold tiled floor. Leaning forward, I cradle my head in my hands. The pain is so bad and intense, worse than anything I've felt before. Tears are streaming down my cheeks.

"Look, Sam, I'm sor-Jesus, Samaya, what's wrong?" Jason is by my side in an instant, panic clear in his voice.

Why did he have to come in now?

I don't want him seeing me like this. The last time I had a headache at his place and he saw it, it was bad enough, and this attack is much worse.

The attacks are getting worse and worse, Samaya. You know what that means.

I just need him to go. I need to be alone.

I try to part my dry lips to tell him to go when the wave of nausea hits.

I'm going to be sick.

Pushing away from Jason, I crawl to the toilet. I lift the lid just in time.

Jason's there, beside me, his hands gathering up my hair and holding it out of the way, while I vomit dinner up.

"It's okay, babe. Get it out of your system. You'll feel better ."

This time, I will.

But it will happen again.

And again.

I feel like crying.

Jason will probably just think I'm sick with a bug.

But I'm not.

I'm sick because I'm dying.

I'm a liar and a fraud.

Jason is holding my hair back for me, caring for me, and he doesn't even know the reason I'm like this.

I hate myself in this moment.

Hating myself isn't a new concept to me. But, somehow, this hatred feels different to the hatred I've felt for myself ever since my family died.

Jason's other hand starts to gently rub my back.

I don't deserve him. I don't deserve to be here with him.

The sickness subsides to light retching. When that calms and I feel ready, I reach for the flusher.

I rest my arm on the toilet seat and lay my still throbbing head on my arm. "Go-now. I'll be okay."

"I'm going nowhere. Have you been feeling ill long?"

I mumble, "No."

Another lie.

"Do you think it was the food from the restaurant? Because I feel okay. But I should probably go check on my grandpa."

"It wasn't the food." It's the ever-growing tumor in my head. "It's just one of my headaches. They make me sick sometimes. I'll be fine."

Lie. Lie. Lie.

Another pain hits out of nowhere, like lightning striking through my head, splitting it open. I cry out in agony as my arms cradle around my head, trying to cushion the pain.

Stop. Please stop.

"This isn't just a headache. Jesus, Samaya ,'re scaring me. I'm going to call a doctor."

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