Maybe tomorrow

By Boohmel

68.2K 2.1K 416

Life isn't always easy and sometimes you have to find it out the hard way. Allison has it hard enough as a si... More

Introduction
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Epilog
Author's note

Chapter 9

1.4K 51 4
By Boohmel

The seats were huge and made of light brown leather that exuded a feeling of coziness. There were only 16 seats in the first class, and they formed 4 different sitting areas as two seats always faced each other with enough space for the little table in between.

There were a couple of brand new magazines and some newspapers spread on the table, right next to a little welcome basket with a bottle of champagne, four glasses and some chocolates in there and somehow I felt the urge to open the bottle and just chug it.

Maybe the alcohol would cloud my mind enough so I wouldn’t have to think about the asshole anymore and maybe it would make the flight a little more bearable.

“Don’t even think about it.”, Damien’s deep voice said behind me and I wrinkled my nose.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”, I claimed and let myself fall into the seat just to jerk forward again and gasp in pain. I had completely forgotten about my ribs and I was regretting it already.

My eyes teared up and I forgot to breathe until black dots started to corrupt my vision. I took a deep, painful breath and let myself sink back into the soft leather.

“Are you okay?”, Damien asked, and his voice sounded softer, but that could have just been my imagination. Either way I didn’t look up to him but turned to stare out of the window so he couldn’t see the tears of pain and anger sparkling in my eyes.

 

“Why do you care?”

The words had left my mouth before I had a chance to think about them. I bit my tongue. My voice had sounded a lot more hurt than I had intended and before either of us could say anything again, Charlie, who hadn’t seemed to notice the tension between Damien and me, spoke up: “This is so cool. When are we going to take off?”, he asked impatiently and stared outside.

“In a few minutes.”, Damien replied.

It was great seeing him like this, with his cheeks being the color of a healthy red and his blue eyes sparkling.

He was so full of energy even though he was still going through his chemo and that was truly remarkable. I really hoped his chemo would be over soon so he could have the childhood of a normal little boy. The childhood he deserved.

 

It took about 10 more minutes for everyone to settle in and for the plane to start moving towards the runway.

There were only 6 other people in the first class so the seat next to Damien stayed vacant. Before we took off though, the pilot came and welcomed everyone in person and when he saw Charlie he even offered him to take a look at the cockpit. Charlie was so excited when he came back that he almost couldn’t stop talking.

“I want to be a pilot too, one day.”, he claimed, and I smirked a little.

“You can become everything that you want when you grow up.”, I answered, and Charlie made big eyes.

“Even an astronaut?”, he asked in disbelief and stared at me.

“Even that.”, Damien answered before I could, and I nodded.

Apparently that gave him something to think about because he went silent until the plane finally started moving and I said: “Maybe you should put on your seatbelt, honey.”, I suggested, and he nodded.

He was sitting on the seat next to me while Damien had occupied the seat in front of me.

I helped Charlie to buckle in before I put on my own seatbelt.

I wasn’t afraid of flying but I was still a little nervous and I didn’t know whether I was going to meet Damien’s family soon, or because of the flight and the fact that my head started hurting again. Probably it was both.

“Are you scared?”, Charlie asked me, and I nodded a little.

“But there is really nothing you need to be worried about, sweetheart.”, I responded, and he grabbed my hand.

“I am not scared.”, he claimed but I knew he was lying because his hand squeezed mine way too hard.

“But I will still hold your hand, so you don’t have to be afraid, mommy.”, he said and looked unbelievably proud that he was trying to care for me.

I smiled.

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

And it did. I saw Damien giving Charlie a little wink, but I ignored it and instead grabbed my phone from my purse and sent Celia a quick message that we would be taking off now and then I turned it off.

I tried to relax and leaned back into the soft leather while the plane was waiting for the take-off clearance. A few seconds later the plane started moving again. Charlie’s grip around my hand tightened and I squeezed back.

 

The instant the plane took off, the pressure on my head was back and I gritted my teeth while we all got pressed into our seats.

Fascinated Charlie stared out of the window while we broke through the clouds within what felt like seconds.

The pressure on my head was still increasing steadily and I closed my eyes and started massaging my temples.

 

When it didn’t get any better I grabbed by purse and pulled out the bottle of water I had gotten myself at the airport and the packing with aspirin Celia had gotten me.

Charlie had let go of my hand and was pressing his face against the window to watch the cars and buildings getting smaller and smaller until he lost them out of sight because of the clouds.

 

I opened my water bottle and took 2 pills at once, then I closed the bottle again and stowed both away in my purse but when after 20 minutes the pain only got worse it seemed like even the aspirins were letting me down today and top of all of that my stomach started roaring again.

 

The morning I woke up after Damien had walked me back to my room, I had started vomiting. Side effects of the concussion, my doctor said.

She had been advising me to take it more seriously and now I was starting to regret my decision to leave Pittsburgh so soon.

I had just been wanting to get everything over with and staying at home in my bed would have just given me more time to think about everything that could go wrong when we arrived in New York and also about Malcolm and my family.

I had been so scared that next time, Malcolm would hurt Celia, or even Charlie, that I had wanted to leave as soon as possible.

 

My stomach growled again, and I looked at the screen that was attached to the wall behind Damien’s seat and I frowned. This was going to be a miserable flight.

 

After another 20 minutes I couldn’t hold it in anymore and I practically jumped from my seat storming towards the little bathroom.

I ignored the weird looks Damien and the other passengers shot me and pressed my lips together, while I stumbled a little before I opened the door. The moment I had locked the door and leaned over the surprisingly very neat and clean toilet I started throwing up.

 

My head hurt so bad that I started crying and for the first time I was actually being thankful for the loud noises the plane made, so no one could hear me gagging or sobbing. I had put my hair up in a bun to stop it from falling into my face and due to the tension on it because I had pulled my hair up, the wound was throbbing again. And every time the plane rattled; I saw everything double for a couple of seconds.

I should have really listened to my doctor and Doctor Thomas.

 

But this was just all so wrong.

This wasn’t how I had imagined my stay in New York would begin; locked inside a bathroom in a plane, throwing up and crying. When would all of this stop? Hadn’t I been through enough already? Was this the punishment for being so selfish and not telling Damien the truth?

Was it my karma?

 

I had no idea how long I sat there, crying and vomiting, when I heard a knock on the door. I sobbed again.

“Not now.”, I said, not wanting to move. The knocking continued and I finally grabbed some toilet paper and wiped over my cold face. I realized I was freezing.

“Ally?”, I heard a muffled voice outside the bathroom.

It was Damien.

Couldn’t he leave me alone for once?

“Lust leave.”, I begged, still sobbing and for a second I thought he might but then the knocking continued.

“Ally open the door. What is going on in there?”, he asked, his voice sounding annoyed.

I shook my head and I didn’t realize for a while that he couldn’t even see me.

“Just leave Damien.”, I demanded, while I flushed the toilet for what seemed like the 100th time and the vomit disappeared again.

I didn’t feel sick anymore, just exhausted, and tired and I was still in pain and my fingers were so cold that they seemed to be turning blue already.

My vision blurred when I lifted my head from my arms and I scooted back a little and pressed myself against the wall, covering my ears with my hands when he started knocking again.

“Ally, I am not leaving unless you open that door.”, he said, and I started crying again, desperately.

Couldn’t he tell that I just wanted to be alone?

I thought about just ignoring him, but his continuous knocking caused my head such pain that I simply couldn’t take it anymore.

 

My body was shaking so badly because of all the exhaustion that it took me 3 tries to stand up. When I looked into the mirror I frowned. I looked worse than ever. I folded down the toilet seat before I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Finally, what the hell were you-”, he stopped when he saw me, and his eyes widened in shock. I didn’t say anything and sat down on the toilet, closing my eyes again.

This was bad.

I probably smelled like vomit and cold sweat and I looked like a corpse. Or like I was on drugs with my red eyes, my shaking hands, and the pale skin.

“What happened?”, he asked while he came inside and knelt down in front of me, taking my hands into his. I didn’t answer.

 

“Hey, everything is going to be okay. We are landing in twenty minutes. You are going to be okay, just tell me what is going on.”, he said in a low voice and I shrugged.

“My doctor told me this could happen if I would fly too soon. It is no big deal.”, I lied.

It was a big deal. I felt miserable, even though it wasn’t just the physical pain that was causing all the exhaustion. I was so tired of Damien’s behavior, hospitals, cancer, and Malcom.

I was feeling so powerless.

I felt like I had lost any amount of control I had had over my life.

 

I pulled back from Damien’s grip and buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want him here. He made everything even worse.

Why was he suddenly being so caring again? Out of pity? He was the last person in this world whose pity I wanted.

“You knew this could happen? Why didn’t you say anything?”, he asked, concern in his voice and I shrugged.

 

“I don’t know, Damien, maybe because I didn’t want you to hate me any more than you already do. I don’t want to be the reason you can’t finally go back to your family with Charlie.”, I responded ironically while I flinched when the plane shook a little. He grabbed my hands again and this time I couldn’t pull away.

 

With his other hand he lifted my chin up so I had to look at him.

“I told you that I don’t hate you, Ally. I would have never risked your health if I had known.”, he defended himself and I laughed dryly but it sounded more like a whimper.

“Really? Then why are you doing this to me?”, I asked with a croaky voice.

“What do you mean?”

As if he didn’t know.

 

“All of this! These sudden mood changes. I mean first you yell at me and then you hug me and tell me I am going to be okay and then you get this phone call and you are suddenly so distant and cold again. Then you seemed so worried about me but after that you started ignoring me again and now this. What am I supposed to think?”, I cried out and looked at him with tears in my eyes.

He clenched his jaw.

“It is complicated.”, he said and almost started laughing.

Complicated?

Wasn’t it always complicated? He straightened up, pulling me up with him and wrapping his arms around me. Blood was rushing into my legs again and I felt my legs giving out, but he held on to me.

 

“Then explain it to me.”, I begged desperately and for a millisecond I truly thought he would but then he answered: “Believe me, you don’t want to know. Just stay as far away from

me and my family as possible. For your own good.”

Was he being serious? If he didn’t want me in his life he could have just told me. But this?

I wanted to pull away again, scream and maybe hit him but when I moved he held on tighter and didn’t have the will to fight so I just stood there, leaning against his chest while tears of anger, pain and desperation rolled down my face, soaking his shirt.

I was too exhausted to move and all I could do was hoping that this would all be over soon so I could get away from this, and from him.

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