Why I Love Him | ✓ [SAMPLE]

Chapter 6

The sound of someone banging their fist on my door made me roll out of bed. I fell to the carpeted floor with a loud thump. I groaned, rolling to my side as I squinted into the small space that was my room. The banging at the door continued, making me groan as I shut my eyes and massaged the area of my head that had made contact with the floor.

The person kept knocking, and with every bang, I winced as a wave of pain in the form of a throbbing headache hit me.

"Who's that?" I asked, swallowing a ball of my spit to soothe my throat afterward. My voice was hoarse from all the crying. My throat felt like sandpaper. The knocking continued, and I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from the floor, taking a while to get my balance before leaving my room and heading for my apartment's door.

What time is it? I wondered as I walked past the living room. The glimpse of the clock I had made me assume it was sometime in the afternoon. I've lost track of time. The past few days have more or less been none existent for me. I woke up, missed work, eat scraps from the fridge, and ignored Wayne's texts and calls as I thought to myself and cried in my bed.

"I'm coming," I yelled and hurried my steps when the knocking became louder. I stumbled a bit because of this. I just didn't have much balance left. Wine and too much sleep weren't something you should mix together often, and I've done that every day for the past week. It took a few tries, but I was able to get the door open. A frown immediately got engraved on my face when I noticed who it was. My jaw hung low as I tried to figure out what Edward was doing at my door.

"Hey," he said with a little smile even though I wasn't giving him the friendliest of expressions.

"Hey," I said in reply, watching as the man's brows shot up. He must have heard the hoarseness in my voice.

"Wayne came over last night," he said, looking down at his feet. I shrugged, letting out a small sigh. I wondered what he wanted me to do with the information that Wayne came over last night. So? He came, and I didn't open — end of the story.

"Are you okay?" he asked, discarding the initial topic of discussion when I didn't say anything in response. He looked back at me, his brown eyes piercing my tired blue ones. I looked away from him, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"Are you?" he asked again, making me look at him again. He was giving me an intense look, and I didn't know how to react, so I just hugged myself as I willed myself not to break down in front of him. I've had a shit day — a shit week.

"I don't want to talk about it," I slurred, reaching up to hold on to my throbbing head. Gosh, go away. I thought, trying to push Edward away from the door frame so that I could shut the door. I couldn't. I was too weak, and Edward kept the door open with ease by wedging his foot in the doorway. I let out a frustrated groan, turning to walk away and leaving my apartment open as it was, but I stumbled, almost falling face-first to on the wooden floor. Edward caught me, pulling me to himself. Things were quiet for a while, then I started to sob. Everything hurt. My head, my throat, my heart — everything.

I couldn't really make out anything Edward was saying to me then. His voice sounded disjointed, and I think it was then I just went blank. There was a gap in my memory between that moment and me lying down on the long sofa in my apartment.

I blinked, staring up at the ceiling. My head didn't hurt as much as before, but the area around my eyes felt itchy and irritated from how much crying I've been doing. I turned my head towards the living room door when I heard it creak open. It always did that. I made a note to oil it before, but I forgot. I watched as Edward slipped into the room with a cup of water and a pack of what I noticed were sore throat lozenges after squinting hard enough to focus on his moving figure.