17 Made Mistakes

⋆32༄ Same as usual

Hello everyone! This chapter is short BUT how exciting. Can't wait for your opinions! Please, remember I take my time because I'm preparing something great! Also, do not forget to vote for the story if you like it x Thank you! Hope you're all okay x

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𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵

I grip harder into the toilet seat. My stomach constricts again. Another stream of vomit gushes from my mouth. I reach for the flush and push down the button.

Exhausted by this relentless nausea, I lean against the wall. Telling Nicole what had happened took a lot of weight off my chest, but it didn't change the fact that the date was getting closer with every single day that passed. The truth's got to come out eventually. There was just a certain amount of time that the lawyers could buy.

It's not just the fear that keeps me here, by the toilet, throwing up whatever is left in my stomach. It's also the guilt. After I had spoken with Nicole, the realization striked me hard. The realization of what I'd done not only to her daughter, but everyone else, including and mostly regarding Davina. I've made so many mistakes, yet I knew that pushing her away was the best decision to make. The less she was around me, the better for her.

I clench my teeth and let out a heavy breath through my nostrils. I feel queasy again. I really need to pull myself together. I've got somewhere to be today.

First, though, I need to call someone. I fish out my phone and select the desired number. After a few seconds of me listening to the ringing tone, she finally answers.

"William? Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Nicole." I clear my throat and rest my head against the wall. "I just wanted to ask about Cassie."

Her voice emerges anew, somewhat surprised. "What about her?"

I shut my eyes. "Is she okay?"

"It's not her first heartbreak, William. She'll be fine."

I exhale, slightly relieved. "Okay, good."

"Is there anything else you want to talk about? I'm waiting for a patient."

I open my eyes and look ahead, fixing my sight on the wood-like tiles of my shower. "No, but thanks. I've got to go . . . you know . . ."

She quickly grasps the meaning behind my words. "Oh, right. Just don't think too much, okay?"

I wonder whether she does sometimes. Whether she thinks about what I told her.

I sigh. "I'll try not to."

"Good," she says softly. "I've got to go. Remember that you can–"

"–call you or pop in whenever I need to. Yeah, I know. Thank you, Nicole." Having said that, I end the conversation.

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The door bell rings as I step into the shop. I've been coming here way too often lately. The lady behind the counter quickly recognizes me. A warm, genuine smile blossoms upon her wrinkled face.

"Hello, darling. Here again?" Her voice is friendly, quite high, but mostly welcoming.

I force a sunny smile that won't betray how much I hate coming here. "What can I say? This place is beautiful, just like everything you make with your skilful hands, Gil."

The lady flushes, flattered. "Stop it, William." She waves her hand, still beaming. "Same as usual?" she asks.

"Yes, please." I force another smile. This one, however, is quite feeble.

She gets straight to preparing my order. "How's your mum? I haven't heard from her for a while now. I wanted to ask you before, but it'd slipped my mind each single time." Her eyes focus on my face.

"We . . . we don't really talk at the moment," I mutter awkwardly.

"Oh, did something happen?"

A lump forms in my throat. "You know, I'm a teenager, she's an adult. We disagree sometimes."

"You better be good to you mum, son." She gives me a soft look of admonishment.

"Yes, ma'am." I smile faintly.

"Here you go. All ready." She passes me the finished order.

I reach for my wallet.

"Not this time, honey."

"Are you sure?" I ask, quite confused.

"I'm sure. Just sort out whatever it is that you and your mum disagreed on."

I meekly nod my head and grab the order from the counter. "Thank you, Gil. See you soon." I flash another feeble smile and head for the door.

"Oh, and, William?" She stops me with her voice.

I hold the door open. "Yes?"

"Tell your mum to give me a ring if she still needs help with the flowers."

"Will do," I respond, then leave the shop, staring down at my hand, in which I hold a bouquet of beautifully arranged yellow tulips.

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Opinions? I bet there's a LOT of confusion hahaha.