Lost (18 page)

  But sleep didn't come peacefully that night.  I had nightmare after nightmare, and endless bouts of terror destroying me. 

  Apparently, sometimes a reaction from the tea is night terrors because the brain is still way too active during sleep, which I wished he had mentioned beforehand.  Though honestly, I wouldn't have changed our sexual, nearly prolific connection from earlier even if I had known what negative experience I might suffer while trying to sleep.
  So all throughout my night of hell Peter held me tightly trying to calm me down when I woke from each nightmare.  And after each attempt to fall back asleep, I felt like I was again gasping awake within minutes panicked and semi-delirious from the dreams.  I was exhausted and unsettled, and truly afraid even though the dreams were unknown and indescribable once I was awake.
  It was an awful night, but Peter never left my side, nor did he ever sleep through my nightmares.
 

  And if I had been more philosophical, or even truly coherent at the time I may have looked at the dreams as an analogy for me and Peter.  I would have understood then that we couldn't possibly have all the happiness we felt and experienced with each other without a nightmare creepy up to knock us back to reality.
  But I wasn't that astute, and I didn't believe in fate or karma.  Instead, I just tried to sleep again and again after each nightmare surfaced to knock me back on my ass that night, figuratively speaking.

CHAPTER 15

  When I woke up Monday morning I felt like I had the worst hangover ever, which was saying something considering the hangover I had suffered just 2 days earlier on Christmas morning.
  Groaning, I tried to move in my bed, but I felt weighed down and exhausted.  My head was throbbing, and my mouth felt glued shut.  I was a hot mess, and I knew it.
  Eventually, I rolled to my side to look for Peter but he was gone.  Looking at his pillow though, I saw a note that I quickly read.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
I love when I sleep,
With my hand on your boob.
I went to get you coffee. 
We'll talk when you wake up… finally.
Peter
xo
  Laughing at his funny poem, I questioned his ‘finally’ until I looked around at my clock and read 11:45.  It was 11:45 and I was still exhausted from the worst nights sleep ever.
  When I eventually made it out of bed, I quickly used the washroom, and hopped in the shower.  I felt too gross to stand, but I needed my shower. Leaning against the tiles, I was surprised I was so exhausted from the little excursion required to shave.  I had never been weak or sickly, but I suddenly felt like I was starting to get a bad cold with all the physical weakness and exhaustion in my bones.
  Afterward, when I left the shower without washing my hair, I barely made it back to my bed before needing to rest again, feeling completely wiped out.  Making it to bed without even stripping off my towel I closed my eyes for a minute while I waited for Peter and my coffee to come get me.
 

  When I woke up again it was to Peter's arms and chest holding me.  I could smell him and feel his warmth, so I snuggled in deeply as I inhaled his scent and relaxed.
  “Sophie... You have to wake up baby.  I'm getting a little worried,” Peter said rubbing my back.
  “I'm awake.  I'm just tired.”
  “I know, but its 2:30.”
  “Really?  Wow... I've never slept so long in my life,” I said trying to shake the slumber from my head.  I could feel I was sick, and I was still exhausted from it.  “I think I'm getting sick,” I mumbled.
  “You are.  You're fevered and you've been really out of it.  Can you get out of bed, Sophie?  I'd like to get you to the couch for some food?”
  “Okay,” I said trying to move but my arms were dead weight at my sides.  “What day is it again?”
  “Monday.  You've only been asleep today.”
  As soon as he spoke I knew there was something about Monday.  Oh, god, it was going to drive me crazy.  Monday.  There was something, and I was so agitated thinking about Monday suddenly, I almost lost my mind.
  “Did I tell you anything about Monday?  Did we say we were doing something?” I asked a little sleepily still, but shaky with my irritation.
  “Not that I remember.  We left the week open to each other with both our shut downs.  We said-”
  Jerking coherent the moment Peter mentioned work, I freaked out. “Oh my GOD!  I have to get to work.  Oh
shit!
  I have to input payroll.  It's mandatory.  I knew I had to.  I knew I had to go in.  But I forgot!”

  Gasping, I fought like hell to get out of my bed even as Peter reached for me.  Pulling away from his hands, I overshot my wobbly legs and I hit the opposite wall with my shoulder as I landed on the floor.  And crying out not from pain but pure frustration, I slapped Peter's hands off me when he tried to help again.
  “I'm fine!  I just need to get my shit together.  If I don't get into work, 14 people plus all the department heads, my bosses, and myself included don't get paid on Friday.  No one will get paid!” I yelled scrambling for my closet on my knees. 

  Trying to stand up, Peter aided me by lifting me by my hips off the floor, as I fought to grab clothes.  Fighting, I felt my strength fading even as I tried to stay strong.
  “Sophie, you need to slow down.  You need-”
  “I need to get out of here.  I only have until 4:59 to have all the numbers inputted.  And it took Carole over an hour, and she knew what she was doing!” I screamed. “I’m sorry, but I can't screw this up.  I just can't.  What the hell did you make me drink last night?” I nearly cried.
  “This isn't about the herbal tea.  It's about-”
  “My new job!”  I was so screwed I couldn't even think straight.
  “How can I help you?”
  “Um, find me my black satchel with all my notes.  I think it's beside the kitchen table.  Find me- I don't know,” I said sitting on my bed.
  Struggling, I pulled a pair of slacks up my legs without even underwear in my confusion, then I grabbed a semi-professional looking burgundy sweater to wear.  I was obviously braless but I wouldn't take off my coat in the office in case there were cameras, which I thought there probably were.
  Stumbling to the bathroom, I slicked back my hair into another makeshift bun, and applied mascara and lipstick as fast as I could with shaking hands.  Leaning against the counter for support, I saw just how pale and disheveled I looked.
  Standing in the doorway, Peter asked to my growing frustration, “Do you really have to go in?  Isn't there someone else you can call?  You can barely stand up.”
  “No. There's no one else.  I'm the new boss, remember?” I snapped.
  “I'm driving you in then.  Period,” he snapped back to my relief.  With Peter driving the 15 minutes to work I could read over my notes on inputting payroll as I struggled to wake up.
  Running for my purse, and nearly falling off balance again, I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself.  I couldn't screw this up, or I would be fired- plain and simple.  When Carole and I discussed the Monday of shutdown she couldn't express enough that rain or shine, vacation or not, the office manager was responsible for coming in to input payroll.  So naturally at the time I had agreed, said of course, and acted like it went without saying that I was up to the task.
 

  Minutes later when I was ready to leave with Peter taking my arm in my bedroom gently, I knew I was acting crazy.  I knew it, but I was so scared to make a mistake I couldn’t really control the panic.  I knew I could stop being such a bitch to Peter though.  So stopping until he looked down at me l whispered I was sorry for snapping at him, and he nodded with a little smile as he continued to walk me to the door.
  I realized outside we had to take my car because I had the security pass in the windshield that bypassed the security gates, so after settling in the passenger side, Peter began driving me to work with my clear directions.
    When I woke up 10 minutes later, Peter was shaking my arm as we pulled into the parking lot.
  “
Jesus. 
I slept again?  No!  Those doors,” I yelled pointing. “That's where security is so they'll let me in,” I practically cried while searching for my name badge.  “You can't come in because of security, but you can leave if you want.  I'll call you when I'm done.  I have to go!” I cried trying to open the door of my still moving car.
  “Sophie!  Stop it!  Holy
shit
, you're scaring me.  You need to calm down.  You've got lots of time.  It's only 3:10 so you'll be fine, but you have to calm down so you don't make a mistake.”
  Jumping in my seat and looking at Peter as he yelled at me, remarkably, I did calm down a little.  He was yelling to help me not because he was an asshole, and I felt the difference clearly.
  “I'm so sorry... but I just can't fail at this.  I can't,” I moaned desperately as I leaned in to kiss him quickly.  “I’ll call as soon as I'm done.  Thank you for driving me, Peter.  I’d be lost without you.  I…”
  But Peter stopped my babbling with a smile.  “I'll see you soon.  Please take it easy.  You're really not well, Sophie,” he said as he kissed me goodbye.
 

                                                *****

  Unbelievably, by 4:48 I had all the numbers inputted and sent.  I had actually managed to do it with only one minor freak out and one quick set of tears when I couldn't balance one woman in accounting.  

  After everything was completed I wanted to lay my head on my desk so badly, but I was worried I'd fall asleep again, so I called Peter instead, then slowly, painfully, made my way down to the main floor through the conference room to the main reception area where a security guard sat.  Looking out the window, I slumped in a chair to wait for Peter.  When I called he told me he was around the corner, so I let myself finally relax in a chair as I watched for him.
  Minutes later, a security guard touched my shoulder with an 'excuse me' as I jolted awake.  Looking around I saw Peter in the window knocking on the glass motioning for me to come to him.  Much calmer than before, I wanted Peter to care for me so badly in that moment I almost wept.
  Looking at him as I stood up, I realized Peter looked like an angel to me.  He was handsome, and wonderful, and he was holding blue roses in his hand and my heart melted at the sight of him surrounded by snow outside through the lightly tinted glass.
  Standing and walking to him absolutely everything on my body hurt.  Even as I reached for the door handle my head hurt, but all I wanted was to get to Peter.
  Opening the door, I whispered, “Peter...” as he quickly pulled me into his arms.
  Holding me he said, “Let me get you home, baby,” to my relief.
  “Thank you.  Are those for me?”
  “Of course,” he smiled down at me, as he walked me to my car.
  And struggling to walk, I moaned, “I'm really tired.”
  “I know.  But I'll get you home, and I'll take care of you until you're well, Sophie.”
  “Thank you,” I choked up suddenly as he helped me into my seat.
  When Peter ran around to join me in the car, I couldn't hold myself up anymore.  Bending my aching legs onto the seat and turning my body, I laid across the emergency brake to put my head in his lap.  Lying there, he absently stroked my hair as I released all the tension I had felt for the last 2 1/2 hours.
  “I did it.  I inputted everyone, and I wasn't late, and everything's okay,” I said wiping a tear that escaped my eyes as he smiled down at me while driving.
 

  We arrived back at my apartment and I spent the next few hours sleeping on the couch beside Peter.  He had undressed me and put me in loose pajamas, and he had even rubbed my neck before I fell asleep.  He was calm and quiet and so sweet to me, I trusted him totally during that time between us.
  Every time he asked me if I needed anything, or simply wrapped a blanket tighter around me I became more than sure he was my forever.
  Later that night Peter finally convinced me to eat soup and a turkey sandwich, which was hard.  I ate normally in general unless I was sick, then I wanted nothing to do with food.  But Peter calmly persisted by lifting the bowl, or picking up the sandwich while not even looking at me, so I couldn't argue or refuse his attempts.
  At 10:00, a CSI Las Vegas marathon was starting, and we stayed up until 1:00 watching 3 episodes together.  I didn't really know the show, but I enjoyed it with Peter until I couldn't keep my eyes open again and he gently helped me to bed.
  Peter was wonderful and loving during our time together.  He acted like he was completely comfortable being my care giver while I battled either a really bad cold, or a weak flu.  I was sick and wiped out, but he stayed the whole time with me to get me through it, and I was so grateful.
  When I woke up the following morning at 10:30, I felt terrible, but better too.  I had the physical symptoms of sickness, like a runny nose and eyes, and a very sore throat, but all the aches and pains were gone from my body.  So I was better and worse, though I'm sure I looked much worse to Peter.
  Cuddled up next to him, I again breathed him in and felt happy.  I remembered him asking me a few times in the night when I'd wake briefly if I needed anything, but other than some fresh, cold water, I didn't need anything except Peter close to me.
 

  “Good morning,” he whispered softly in my ear.
  “Good morning,” I croaked with a flinch.
  “I'm going to go buy you a few things to help you out.  I would've yesterday, but I didn't want to leave you alone.  How are you feeling?”
  “Ugh...”
  “This is usually the worst day, so you should feel better by tomorrow.”
  “Thank you for everything, Peter.  But you can go if you'd like.  I'll be fine.  And if not I'll wuss out and call my mom or brother.  I totally understand if you want to get out of here for a while.  I wish I could,” I grinned.
  “I like taking care of you.  It makes me feel good, and like, all manly or something,” he laughed. “I was pretty sick 2 years ago and my sister took care of me until I was well enough to care for myself, and I remember how good it felt knowing I had someone in my corner.”
  “It's just a bad cold,” I said trying to sound stronger than I felt.
  “I know.  But you do feel better with me here, right?  So it's the same thing whether just a cold or a bad sickness.  Everyone wants to feel like there's someone they can always turn to and count on when they need them,” he spoke quietly.
  “I have that with my brother.  I would do anything for him, and I know he feels the same about me.  We're very close, and I kind of wish you knew Steven, too, so you knew how amazing he is.”
  “I'll get to know him.  But I don't really want to share you just yet,” he said kissing my head.
  “I know... When I was at work yesterday I missed you, and I wondered how awful it’s going to feel next week when we're back to schedules and jobs, and real life, instead of this...” but I faltered.  I couldn't think of the right word.
  “Beautiful start for us,” he finished for me.
  “Yes...”
  “Tell me something really bad about you,” I asked squeezing his chest tighter.
  “Um... I'm horrible at math.”
  “No, like bad about
you
.  Like a personality trait.  Give me something to work with,” I grinned against his chest.
  Pausing for a moment to think, Peter finally admitted, “I would suffer jealousy sometimes with my ex-girlfriends.  Not too bad, and usually not enough to show.  But it was there.  And you?”
  “I'm apparently- I have bad PMS.  Like super moody PMS, at least according to my brother.  But I don't know if it's true because I'm the one suffering it so everything I feel or say feels completely rational to me at the time. Then again, Steven might just be messing with me because he has to find something wrong with me, being as I'm the awesome twin,” I laughed.
  “I know a wonderful herbal tincture for PMS which my sister swears by now.  Plus, there are these drops that help acute anxiety or irritability.  I guess we'll just have to see how moody you get,” he said pinching my butt.
  “Uh huh.  Thanks.”
  “When are you expecting your next period?” He asked casually.
  Trying to answer just as casually through my discomfort, I admitted, “Around the 4th of January.  I started on the 7th, during my second day of work.  Why?” I asked a little embarrassed.
  “So I know when to be extra careful with you, which was last week, actually.”
  “When I didn't see you.  Do you want me to go on the pill?  I can if you want?”
  Shaking his head, Peter said, “I'm not a fan of hormone manipulation, but you do whatever you want Sophie.  I just want to know your cycle so I can monitor our behavior during those 2 or 3 days,” he said so nonchalantly, I felt even more uncomfortable.
  “Have you done that often with women?”
  “No.  I was typically a condom AND pull out man, but I've slept with 2 women without condoms; one who was on birth control.  So other than you I’ve only watched the cycle of one other partner.  Does that bother you?”
  “No.  Well, yes, but it shouldn't,” I said exhaling. “You are my first condom-less man, and I hate the thought of you with another woman like that, which is totally ridiculous, I know.  But I can't help it.  I don’t like it,” I confessed with a slow exhale.
  “PMS?” He teased.
  “Maybe,” I groaned at my stupidity.
  “If it helps, Sophie,” he said looking at my eyes, “I've never felt this close to any woman as soon and as intensely as I do for you.  You frequently take my breath away.  And though I love this feeling, I'm scared of it, too.  I'm often overwhelmed with the need I have for you,” he said quietly while holding me tighter.
  “’Cause you want to do dirty things to me?” I asked trying to ease the intensity.
  “No, because I want to live in you as deeply as you're living in me,” he whispered with a sigh.
  Stunned silent by Peter’s confession for a moment, I finally collected my thoughts enough to speak.  “That was... Unlike anything I've ever heard before.  I guess I dated non-romantics and men with little sweetness in them before.  It's funny now because I didn't realize… Nothing.  Sorry, I’m babbling,” I said as I tried to get out of my verbal mess quickly.
  “Please finish, baby.  What didn't you realize?” 
  I was suddenly trapped between wanting him to know what I felt and not wanting him to know just
how
I felt.  I knew he wanted me to tell him everything, but it was like jumping off a cliff I didn't even know I had been standing on with him.  I found it hard to speak… until I just jumped and spoke.
  “Please?” He begged again.
  “Um, I dated men I think I knew wouldn't last… I think.  I loved them each differently though.  I did love them.  But when I'm with you and you speak and act the way you do with me, I realize just how different they were from you.  So I don't know if I dated them knowing it wouldn't last, or like, it wouldn't last because it wasn't you I was dating,” I nearly groaned after my confession.
  “That was one of the most honest, open things you've ever said to me-”
  “And it sucked,” I interrupted until he pinched my butt to shut me up as I giggled.
  “You are so lovely to me right now.  Always actually.  I love hearing you try to be open with me.  And I love these moments of yours which are candid and special.  I love the Sophie you become with me in moments like this,” he whispered holding me tightly to him.
  “Well, I hate it,” I groaned but then tried to ease up a little the more I thought about what I was saying.  “Actually, I don't hate it.  I just don't really know myself like this, even though I like feeling like this with you,” I babbled again with my discomfort.  Struggling, I tried to move away from him slightly but he held me tighter to him.
  “Don't move away.  Please stay right here with me,” he begged with another kiss on my head. 
  After a few minutes of silence, Peter told me he had to leave me soon.  To my shock, or maybe sadness, he actually had to go somewhere else and it bothered me though I tried not to show it.