Vanquished (The Encounter #3)(12)



He was a brilliant man with even more of a brilliant sense of humor, so it wasn’t that much of a hardship to get consumed in conversation with the both of them when laughter and teasing were involved.

Interrupted by the kind waitress, we halted conversing as we primed our ears for the chef’s special before each of us were handed the menu for perusal.

Scanning the list as my thumb caressed the soft, velvety feel of the heavy-weight paper stock against its pad, I contemplated a delicious looking appetizer before something in my stomach recoiled. Alarmed, I placed my left arm around my belly, hoping it would keep it at bay. Had I eaten something bad? I couldn’t recall.

Holding my breath, I discreetly glanced around the cozy restaurant, noting it was half-full capacity for the dinner rush. Knowing there were a lot of people about, I mentally calculated how many tables ’I would pass before I reached the washroom if the need should arise.

“Have you decided on what to get?” Claire softly inquired towards me while I let my gaze fall on the menu. Instead of seeing the description, everything was a blur. “Should we start with the samosa sampler? It’s quite delicious,” Claire suggested before Noah chimed in, agreeing with her.

Trying to hide my contorted face, I made a hesitant nod. Truth be told, food was the last thing I wanted now. I was terrified to move in fear that I would faint, but the longer I stayed put, the more my stomach rebelled. I sent up a soft prayer and decided to take a sip of water that had been placed before us, hoping my stomach’s rebellion would subside soon enough.

“What’s wrong, my love?” Claire paused, eyeing me with concern, appearing as if she was ready to get up from her seat and take charge of the situation. “You suddenly look purple. Are you ill, Isobel? We can take you home; it’s of no consequence.”

Trying to squash the nauseous feeling away, I immediately shook my head as I made a wan smile towards the couple. “I just feel odd all of a sudden. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“I think we should skip dinner and take you home so you can rest.” Noah frowned, mirroring the concerned look Claire had etched on her face.

Past embarrassment, I tried to concentrate on controlling my body’s gagging reflex.

“Give me a moment,” I responded as my thoughts dwelled on the events today. I had been perfectly fine when I got up this morning, so maybe I caught something from school. There was certainly that woman next to me with blotchy skin, endlessly sneezing as she muttered the blame was on her wretched allergies. Recalling it now, she could have been mistaken and gotten me sick in the process.

Claire wasn’t at all convinced as she looked at me like I was coming down with something. “Your health hasn’t been the greatest as of late with your hunger strike and all, if you know what I mean.”

I glared at her, embarrassed that she had to point out something that was a private and sensitive subject in front of Noah. They were dating—I understood that—but I wasn’t prepared to broach such confidences just yet.

“Seriously, there’s no need to point that out, Claire.”

She made an understanding nod. “All right.” She held up her hands as if to say she would never speak of it again before adding, “I apologize. I’m so very sorry.”

Grateful she wasn’t miffed about my defensive reaction, I was about to say I forgave her when I felt this uncontrollable bile coming from my stomach, rapidly racing towards my throat. I hurriedly excused myself, latched my palm against my mouth, and bolted towards the bathroom, ready to expunge the contents of my stomach. I had never moved so fast. Thankfully, I reached the toilet, bending over just in time for horrific liquid fireworks. The damning process seemed to keep on, and just when I thought it was about done, more came out, leaving me breathless and slowly weakening in the process.

Slightly aware of the background, I heard someone open the door to the bathroom, and the second the scent of food wafted through the door, my stomach instantly contracted once again before expelling even more out, making me puke my guts and glory out of my system.

I closed my eyes, feeling completely drained as my hands reached out for a tissue to wipe my mouth. Dear God, that was beyond embarrassing. Had I been out of my mind obliterated, it would have been a different story. This had never happened to me before.

“Isobel, are you in here?” Claire called out, bending over to check in each stall.

“I’m in here, the last one,” I croaked out, the sound of my hoarse voice seeming completely foreign.

Slowly, I leaned against the stall then reached towards the toilet to flush the god-awful crime scene before me. What little I had eaten for the past couple days seemed to have been deposited into it.

“Can I get you anything? A washcloth? Water? Do you feel any better at all after you puked it out?” Claire reached out to squeeze my shoulder, most likely feeling somewhat helpless upon seeing how pale I was.

Merely nodding, my body beginning to resort back to its normal state, I noticed I felt much better, though my stomach felt a bit sore.

“I’m much better. Something about that smell; it’s rather harsh on my nose,” I idly commented, wondering if it would be possible to cover my nose upon exiting the washroom and out of the restaurant without offending the staff.

“I admit the curry aroma doesn’t send one’s sense of smell back to utopia, but naming it harsh is rather extreme. You never complained before, so what’s the difference now?” There was a hint of a smile in Claire’s voice.

Pamela Ann's Books