Deven hadn’t expected to cry, but she couldn’t stop the tears that began to stream down her sunken cheeks. Iris wasn’t satisfied with the lack of response, so she asked again. This time, Deven nodded. “When you see them,” Iris said, “can you please tell them I love them?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll tell them.”

With a grateful smile, her mother shifted her attention to the TV screen, leaving Deven alone to collect her thoughts. Now what?

Chapter Seven - Three Months Before

Chapter Seven

Three Months Before

Deven keeled over the toilet, the vomit rancid and venomous as it gushed from her throat. She gagged, coughed, and gagged some more, bracing against the lip of the ceramic like a lifeline. The nausea had been running rampant all day. Now here she was, well into the evening rotation and she’d regurgitated everything but her core memories. Not to mention her vision was hazy and her head felt like it was on a swivel. Damn morning sickness.

When she was sure she could stand without toppling face forward into the bowl, Deven dragged herself to her feet. Sweat peppered her forehead and a veil of perspiration or leftover throw up (she couldn’t be sure which) hung like a bib from the front collar of her shirt. She would need to change and then make up a realistic excuse regarding her frequent trips to the restroom. Food poisoning, maybe? It wasn’t like the cafeteria had the best reputation, so that part was believable. Really anything would work except for the truth, for now.

It was no secret that Justin had had his share of women, ironically including a number of the nurses Deven worked with. And after she had nearly come to blows with one of them, it was idyllic to keep her personal life separate from work. Even after the nurse had transferred to a hospital in another city, the rumors lingered, only recently dwindling to covert smirks behind her back. It was embarrassing enough and she sure as hell wasn’t trying to ignite the catty gossip once more.

Deven entered the locker room, glad to find it empty. A hint of musk tickled her nose and she had to swallow a fresh bout of nausea. She sank to the wooden bench and leaned forward to put her head between her knees. Please don’t throw up, please don’t throw up, she pleaded with her bubbling tummy. Any more of this and she would have to go home, or worse, hop on one of the beds on her floor and request to be admitted.

The door to the locker room pushed open and Deven groaned inwardly at the intrusion. But dammit, she didn’t have the energy to care at that point.