for this. You betrayed my trust. That was just wrong. That’s the same thing as going into my bank account and stealing my money, thinking you have the right to take it.”
He shook his head. “Not the same thing at all.”
“Get out, Coen! I’m this close to slapping you.”
Coen stared at her for a moment. “I’m leaving.” He turned around and headed to the door.
“And don’t come home tonight!”
He slammed the door shut.
Sydney screamed and gripped her scalp. She was so pissed at him. After she calmed down, she contacted the school and reenrolled in the course. Lucky, she was able to fix it since it hadn’t been twenty four hours yet.
When she did her homework, she kept coughing and sneezing. Tissues we re dispersed around the room. She started to get a headache but she ignored it. Every time she breathed, her chest hurt. She pushed on and studied her notes.
She put Coen out of her mind as much as possible. He kept creeping back against her wishes, along with the anger she felt. When it was late, she looked at the clock. It was almost midnight and he still wasn’t home. She expected him to return even though she told him not to. Even though she was angry, she hated it when he wasn’t in the house with her. She couldn’t sleep unless he was beside her. Sydney was totally dependent on him.
She picked up her phone and called him.
He answered but didn’t speak.
“Coen?”
“What?”
“Are you coming home?”
“I distinctly remember being told not to come back.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For saying that.”
Coen was quiet.
“Please come home.”
“You want me there?”
“I can’t sleep without you,” she whispered.
“You slept fine last night,” he snapped.
“Just come home.”
“Are you still mad?”
“Mad is an understatement. Now get back here.”
“Fine.”
She heard him jiggle his keys then start the ignition. “Where are you?”
“The beach.”
“Were you sleeping in your truck?”
“Why do you care?”
She heard him drive. The faint sound of the radio was on in the background. She stayed on the phone with him while he drove. They fell silent.
When he killed the engine, Sydney walked to the door and opened it. He stayed on the phone until he reached her. Then he hung up.
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
Coen didn’t touch her. He walked past her then headed to the bedroom.
Sydney turned off all the lights and locked the doors before she went to bed. She was still sniffing and coughing.
Coen lied in bed in his boxers and a t-shirt. He normally slept naked.
Sydney opened his drawer and grabbed one of his shirts, pulling it over her head. She lied beside him but didn’t touch him. She was livid with him, but she felt better knowing he was next to her. It didn’t feel right when he wasn’t there.
Sydney set her alarm.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?” Coen asked.
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“And I got back into my class,” she snapped.
He said nothing.
“Thankfully, I repaired the damage you caused.”
“I was just trying to help you.”
“Well, don’t. I was fine before you came along.”
Coen turned on his side, his back facing her.
Sydney coughed again then heaved. She took a deep breath then her chest hurt. She winced in pain.
Coen turned over and sat up, staring at her.
“Stop looking at me,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on her chest, feeling her breath e. “Take a deep breath.”
“No.”
“Sydney, stop being a brat.”
She did as he asked. She winced in pain when her lungs expanded.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“You have pneumonia.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you fucking do,” he said. “Get dressed.”
“Coen, I’m fine.”
“If I hear you say that one more time, I’m going to scream.”
She flinched at the venom in his voice.
“Now get dressed!”
She climbed out of bed and changed.
Coen drove her to the hospital. Neither one spoke on the drive.
He shook his head. “Not the same thing at all.”
“Get out, Coen! I’m this close to slapping you.”
Coen stared at her for a moment. “I’m leaving.” He turned around and headed to the door.
“And don’t come home tonight!”
He slammed the door shut.
Sydney screamed and gripped her scalp. She was so pissed at him. After she calmed down, she contacted the school and reenrolled in the course. Lucky, she was able to fix it since it hadn’t been twenty four hours yet.
When she did her homework, she kept coughing and sneezing. Tissues we re dispersed around the room. She started to get a headache but she ignored it. Every time she breathed, her chest hurt. She pushed on and studied her notes.
She put Coen out of her mind as much as possible. He kept creeping back against her wishes, along with the anger she felt. When it was late, she looked at the clock. It was almost midnight and he still wasn’t home. She expected him to return even though she told him not to. Even though she was angry, she hated it when he wasn’t in the house with her. She couldn’t sleep unless he was beside her. Sydney was totally dependent on him.
She picked up her phone and called him.
He answered but didn’t speak.
“Coen?”
“What?”
“Are you coming home?”
“I distinctly remember being told not to come back.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what, exactly?”
“For saying that.”
Coen was quiet.
“Please come home.”
“You want me there?”
“I can’t sleep without you,” she whispered.
“You slept fine last night,” he snapped.
“Just come home.”
“Are you still mad?”
“Mad is an understatement. Now get back here.”
“Fine.”
She heard him jiggle his keys then start the ignition. “Where are you?”
“The beach.”
“Were you sleeping in your truck?”
“Why do you care?”
She heard him drive. The faint sound of the radio was on in the background. She stayed on the phone with him while he drove. They fell silent.
When he killed the engine, Sydney walked to the door and opened it. He stayed on the phone until he reached her. Then he hung up.
She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
Coen didn’t touch her. He walked past her then headed to the bedroom.
Sydney turned off all the lights and locked the doors before she went to bed. She was still sniffing and coughing.
Coen lied in bed in his boxers and a t-shirt. He normally slept naked.
Sydney opened his drawer and grabbed one of his shirts, pulling it over her head. She lied beside him but didn’t touch him. She was livid with him, but she felt better knowing he was next to her. It didn’t feel right when he wasn’t there.
Sydney set her alarm.
“Are you going to school tomorrow?” Coen asked.
“Yes.”
He sighed.
“And I got back into my class,” she snapped.
He said nothing.
“Thankfully, I repaired the damage you caused.”
“I was just trying to help you.”
“Well, don’t. I was fine before you came along.”
Coen turned on his side, his back facing her.
Sydney coughed again then heaved. She took a deep breath then her chest hurt. She winced in pain.
Coen turned over and sat up, staring at her.
“Stop looking at me,” she whispered.
He placed his hand on her chest, feeling her breath e. “Take a deep breath.”
“No.”
“Sydney, stop being a brat.”
She did as he asked. She winced in pain when her lungs expanded.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“You have pneumonia.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you fucking do,” he said. “Get dressed.”
“Coen, I’m fine.”
“If I hear you say that one more time, I’m going to scream.”
She flinched at the venom in his voice.
“Now get dressed!”
She climbed out of bed and changed.
Coen drove her to the hospital. Neither one spoke on the drive.
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