The Realtor (BWWM)

Chapter 30

I woke up feeling like I weigh 400 pounds. How did I get sick so quick? Andrew is no where to be found and I feel too weak to even get up.

"Mommy!" Calayah yelled then busted through my room door. "Andrew and I made you soup!"

"Soup for breakfast?" I asked and laughed.

"No mom, it's three in the afternoon," Calayah made a face. My eyes widened.

"Three?" I tried to get up but I couldn't. I have to go with Andrew to meet with Ashly today and I'm not missing but the way my body is reacting is telling me otherwise.

"Don't try to get up babe," Andrew walked into the room holding a tray that has a big bowl of hot soup, tea, medicine and some flowers that Calayah probably picked from the backyard because they are small and some are dying a little.

"This is so sweet of you guys," I smiled at them. Andrew placed the tray on my lap after I sat up. I drank a spoon full and couldn't drink anymore. "I can't drink this," I said.

"Is it nasty? It's my great-great-great-great-grandmothers recipe," he said and it made me laugh. "My mother says it can cure anything, Italian style," he cheesed and I wanted to pinch his cheeks.

"I'm sure it can and it taste good! Didn't know you could cook but I don't think I can stomach it," I said and Andrew nodded and took the tray off of me.

"You're Italian?" Calayah asked Andrew and my stomach started to turn.

"And Irish," Andrew responded but I was more focused on the bubbling in my stomach. I don't know where I got the strength but I got up and slowly walked to the bathroom and locked the door. I sat on the cold toilet seat and let go what my stomach turned over.

"Camille you okay?" Andrew asked.

"Yeah I'm fine," I groaned. This is probably a stomach flu and this is the worse one I've had yet. I wiped my butt a few times and then flushed the toilet. I staggered over to the sink to wash my hands. I looked at my self in the mirror while washing my hands and I look absolutely disgusting. My hair (freshly sewn in for the wedding) is all over the place, my usual bronze skin looks drained, I just don't look like myself.

"Camille?" Andrew asked after a while. I snapped out of the criticizing and turned off the water faucet. I unlocked the door but then threw up right in front of me. "Oh God," Andrew said and then stepped over my small puddle of puke to help me out the bathroom. "Had a good time in here on the toilet?" He laughed and I wanted to laugh too but I couldn't. I could only groan. There's nothing in my stomach to regurgitate so the only thing in the puddle of throw up is water and some of the soup based on the color.

(Okay Camille TMI)

I laid back in bed and my eyes couldn't help but  close. It felt like I've been sleeping for decades. As I when I opened my eyes Andrew laid next to me staring at me.

"You've slept for only five minutes," he laughed. "I was thinking that maybe we could take a pregnancy test, well not me but you and I said we because-" he rambled.

"Andrew." I groaned. "I don't see the point in taking one but just for you I'll do it," he smiled at me. "After we meet with Ashly," my voice cracked and I honestly don't feel any better. I forced myself to get up and walked to the bathroom. My throw up is no longer there.

I started the shower up so it can be hot when I stepped in. Andrew leaned against the counters watching me.

"Why're you staring?" I asked while lathering my body with Dove. The smell is making me want to throw up and that doesn't help that I can barely stand.