Page 20 of Hunter's Baby Girl

Chapter 10

Just as it had before, time seemed to drag between that meeting at the coffee shop and our next agreed-upon playdate. We decided Tuesday would be a good night for the both of us.

“Now remember,” I said before we parted ways on Sunday, “we promised each other that if the day isn’t a good one, we’ll be honest about it. Right?”

“Right,” he confirmed.

For my part, Tuesday was going swimmingly well. Maybe it was the knowledge that I had something to look forward to again. There was definitely something to be said for anticipation. It can make time drag, but it can also make the very mundane aspects of working in an office much more bearable.

Still, I had to be sure my work for Ian was impeccable. Just because I was excited about seeing Hunter, I couldn’t risk getting into trouble at work. There was definitely part of me that craved the approval I got from my boss when I did a job well along with a part of me that dreaded criticism or the feeling I’d let him down.

I spent hours that afternoon going over reports. The font was so small, I had to squint. Before long, I felt a familiar pain in the back of my head, right at the base of my skull.

“Oh, no,” I murmured, closing my eyes and putting my head in my hands. “Not today, please.” But it was too late: I’d suffered from migraines for years, and I could tell this was shaping up to be a big one.

I tried everything I knew to help myself, from acupressure to medicine to visualization. But nothing was working. The pain was growing worse. At least it was nearly time to go home, but then I’d be missing out on my playtime.

By the time I got home, it felt as though my head was in a vise. I texted Hunter, telling him I felt sick and wouldn’t be able to get together that night. I hated having to do it, especially after everything we’d been through in the past week, but there was no way I was up to par.

All I wanted to do was melt into the sofa and zone out. Some people need perfect darkness and quiet for a migraine, while I usually did better if I had something to listen to. So I would put on a string of sitcoms and lay there with my eyes closed, just listening. Sometimes I would even stare at the TV, eyes unfocused, and let it sort of hypnotize me into forgetting the pain.

After an hour of this zoning out, I heard the sound of the door opening and closing. I stirred, my reverie broken. “Hunter?” I whispered, my eyes still closed.

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t get up,” he whispered.

“I’m too sick,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said. “I got your text. I thought I’d bring over some soup in case you’re hungry later, and some Gatorade so you can stay hydrated in case you throw up or anything.”

Even in all my pain, I couldn’t help feeling warm all over. He knew there was nothing I could offer him tonight, yet he still went out of his way for me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, opening my eyes briefly to look at him.

“No problem,” he answered. “My mom used to get migraines sometimes, and I remember how bad they can be. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

I thought about it for a minute. “Can you stay and talk with me? Distraction helps.”

So he sat on the sofa with me, my head in his lap. I felt his hand gently stroking my hair, and I let myself focus on that comfort instead of the agony I’d been going through.

“Whatcha watching here?” he asked. I shrugged.

“Not sure,” I mumbled. “Whatever is on. Just something for me to listen to.”

“Gotcha,” he replied. “So how was your day? Did you go to work, or were you sick all day?”

“I was at work,” I said. “It hit this afternoon.”

“Was it a very stressful day?” he asked, still stroking my hair.

“No. I just had to stare at tiny numbers all afternoon,” I explained.

“That’ll do it,” he observed wryly. “Tiny numbers are enough to drive anyone to the brink of insanity.”

That comment gave me pause. “What do you even doing for living? I can’t believe I’ve never asked you that before.”

He chuckled. “I was more interested in getting to know you than in sharing details about myself, I guess. I’m a landscaper. I have my own shop.”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s amazing, and so cool. You must always be around flowers and trees and plants, huh?”