Shocked and Shattered Read Free Page B

startled.
     
    “What—what’s happening?” he shouts as he sits upright, squinting from the sunlight. Then he lays back down, looking a little worse for wear.
     
    I smirk, feeling a little triumphant. “What time did you get in?” I ask him.
     
    “Not late,” he moans.
     
    Why don’t I believe him? I must have really been zonked not to hear him, especially a drunk Sterling. He’s pretty damn loud.
     
    He pulls the covers up over his head, so I decide to take a shower. I’m not in the mood. This is not how I envisioned my honeymoon to be, not one single part.
    Strike one to Sterling, but silly me, always giving him the benefit of the doubt and another chance.
    I brew some coffee that I am too sick to stomach, and pour a cup for Sterling. I place it on his bedside table with a glass of water and some Advil.
    “Coffee and drugs,” I mumble as I head back to the couch. I am feeling even more weak and lethargic today. I flick through the channels to see what is on the TV, when I see Sterling out of the corner of my eye, sit up and sip his coffee, then swallow the pills with his water.
    “Thanks, Crys,” he says quietly before lying back down. I don’t even have the energy or the patience to answer him.
     
     
    I order room service at midday, just because I am not heartless or selfish. Sterling has to eat, and I’m in no state to go anywhere. I order two salads, two ham subs, and a bowl of curly fries, as I know oil is a godsend for hangovers. I don’t even bother waking him. I figure he will hear the waitress and smell the food when it arrives.
    When the knock on the door comes, I stand and almost collapse. Shit . I steady myself and try again, slowly shuffling to the door. I open it and signal to the table where the man places the tray.
    “Thanks so much. I will put the tip on my account,” I tell him, now feeling like I may throw up.
    “ Thank you, Mrs. Hunt,” he responds and walks out, closing the door.
     
    That sounds so weird. I am now Mrs. Hunt. Don’t really feel like it though.
    I check out the food, and the nausea boils over at the smell. I run to the toilet to throw up. And here I was, thinking I’d be right as rain today. Fuck, can’t a girl just enjoy her god damn honeymoon.
    I’m feeling pissed and sorry for myself when I head back to the lounge, but I take a detour. Stuff it, I am feeling terrible, but why should I have to sleep on the lounge? I climb into the other side of the king size bed. There is plenty of room. The pillow is a little hard, but the mattress is divine.
    I don’t even remember falling asleep, but I do remember being woken up by my rude, obnoxious husband who is now eating noisily next to me.
     
     

CHAPTER 3 – Feeling Worse
    I can’t believe that for the last four days, I have only ventured out three times, and stayed inside our cabin for the rest. I am feeling frustrated and depressed.
    “I’m so sorry, Sterling,” I say to him as he dresses for the beach.
    “Well, there is nothing you can do. I hope you don’t expect me to stay in here on such a beautiful day, do you.” It’s not a question.
    “No, of course not. We shouldn’t both have to suffer.” I remember the conversation with Hannah, about in sickness and in health. What a load of shit. Sterling hasn’t lifted a finger for me all week.
    Sterling gets reception to send a doctor to check on me while he is relaxing on the beach, talking to God knows who, enjoying the coolness of the water, no doubt.
    “You are running a fever, but show no other symptoms. However, we will start you on antibiotics, just to be safe,” the doctor who calls himself Toras tells me, handing over the already filled script.
    “Thank you, Doctor. We are heading home tomorrow, so I will go to my doctor if I’m not improving.” I assure him.
    “Yes, make sure that you do. Better to be safe than sorry,” he replies thoughtfully.
    Sterling is back from the beach when I wake from my nap, his hair wet, and he is