Chapter 12

I woke up the morning after drinking an amount of alcohol no one should ever consume. The pounding headache I now had would remind me I went too far all day. I was tangled in the sheets and blankets, laying on my stomach with a pillow covering my head. I lifted myself up my elbows slightly, the pillow tumbled over. My eyes were squinted as the sun shined through the curtains making me groan and lay my head back on to the mattress. I slowly turned over to my back, my arm reaching over to rest over my eyes.  My alarm started going off, making me basically want to die. It was blaring a random song I had in my music library and just seemed to be getting louder and louder. I without opening my eyes, I reached for the phone of my bedside table, thanking my drunken self for placing it there, and pressing a button to shut it off.  But that was short lived.  Just as I turned off the alarm, my phone beginning ringing from a phone call. With a grunt I sat up and reached over again to pick it up. Debbie’s picture and name flashed across my screen.  "Hello?" I answered, my voice slightly rasp.  "Christy,are you sick? You sound sick," her motherly instincts were on high alert as concern filled her voice.  I moved to phone away from my ear slightly, her voice was basically echoing in my head due to my hangover. "No, no, what's up?" I asked, trying to get off the subject. Debbie wasn't particularly fond of Kayla or I drinking alcohol. Ever since last year when her best friend died from a car accident due to a drunk driver she's been very weary about it.  "Well it's about your father," She started, I was giving her my full attention now. "He's doing okay and the cancer seems to be lessening." Though the positive news, she seemed to be hiding something.  "Well that's good... what's the bad news?" I asked, knowing her too well to be able to hide anything.  She let out a deep sigh. "While the cancer is lessening, they found something else." My father was given five years after his diagnosis of stage two lung cancer that past January. There is always a chance of survival past the time given, but it was rare, especially without the treatment he has now.  I sat up in the bed and ignored the spinning from the sudden reaction. "What is it?" I said urgently.  "While the treatment is helping, his immune system has gone down severely. He developed pneumonia," she explained.  "Well can't they treat that too?"  I heard her sniffle, she was crying. "The medicine for the pneumonia won't mix with the treatment for the cancer. He's currently on an isolated floor to ensure that it doesn't get any worse. His body has to fight off the infection on its own before they can continue anything."  I put my hand over my mouth to stop the sob that almost escaped my mouth. "Well what does this mean?" I asked through a hushed cry. I knew exactly what it meant, but I couldn't get myself to say it.  "It means we've got to pray for a miracle,"  ~>~  I talked to Debbie for a while more after the tears I had were uncontrollable from the fear of losing my dad. If it wasn't one thing it's another and I didn't know how much more my family could take. We were living on edge at this point knowing anything could happen. The news of my dad was enough to sober me, but the headache was now because of crying and worrying.  I tossed the covers over the side of my and looked down to see I was still in my clothes from yesterday. I got out of bed and went over to the bathroom to take a shower.  I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold. Stepping out, I wrapped a towel around my waist and walked over to the counter to wipe the fogged mirror. I stared back at myself and I was paler than usual. Arizona kept me tan, but the sticky humidity of New York kept me inside and away from the sun. I shook my head to rid myself of the thought, I didn't care about any of that right now really. I've been so consumed with how I look to others since I've been here that I didn't even realize I wasn't focusing on why I was here. My dad.  I've gotten so caught up in it all, but how could I not?I was here, in a beautiful penthouse that would never really be my home. I had a fiancé, that would never be mine. I had a life here in New York that would never be real. I was caught up in all of it the past almost two months, but I had to snap out of it. I felt guilty that I was living so lavishly while my family was basically mourning for my father.  I needed to go home.  Even just for a couple days.  As soon as the idea of going home got into my head, I rushed over to the closer to quickly throw on some jeans and a random shirt. I swung my door open and held onto the rail as I basically flew down the stairs.  Sebastian’s office door was open so I didn't bother knocking as I stepped into the room. He wasn't sat at his usual spot. I looked around before exiting and looked down the hallway. I passed another spare bedroom that I wasn't as big as the one I was using upstairs, but it was still nicely decorated and completely untouched. It seemed to be more of a room to look at rather than one to live in.  I continued walking until I was met with the last door on the left side of the hallway. It was slightly cracked. I pushed on the dark wood door and it slowly swung open. My mouth was slightly taped as I took in my surroundings. The walls were dark grey that looked beautiful against the dark wood of his flooring. The bed was huge with an almost black comforter and matching pillows. The bed was unmade and a few clothes were scattered amongst the room. This had to be Sebastian’s room. continued walking until I was met with the last door, it was slightly cracked open. I pushed it further and instantly knew it was Sebastian’s . It was the biggest room in the house, with a gorgeous view of the city.   "Christy ," his familiar voice filled the room.  I gasped and quickly spun on around to face him. My eyes were wide as I turned to him to see Sebastian standing there with a towel around his waist, the water from the shower he had taken was still on his bare chest.  His very toned chest.  "Um, Sebastian , I-I'm sorry I couldn't find you and-"  He chuckled, cutting off my rambling. "It's fine, did you need something?" I need you to put a damn shirt on.  "I-I'll wait for you to get dressed." I mumbled like an idiot. I didn't wait for his response as I quickly left his room, shutting the door behind me.  I walked into the living room and sat on the black leather sofa. A few minutes later Sebastian came walking out with his usual slacks and button up. "I need a favor." I said, standing up. I didn't want to beat around the bush with this.  He raised an eyebrow and seemed surprised. "Of course, what is it?"  "I've got to go home for a couple days." I said.  "Christy -"  "I need to, Sebastian . My father isn't doing well and I have to be with them. I haven't seen any of them in nearly two m-"  "Christy ," he cut me off making me glare at him.  "What?" I snapped.  "I was going to say yes, we could go tomorrow and be back on Tuesday."  My eyes widened and I couldn't help but throw my arms around him to hug him. "Oh thank you," I was relieved more than anything. I thought this would turn into some big fight, but it was wrong on my part to judge how he'd react. I didn't like our arranged marriage, but Seb has been nothing but nice to me.  He hugged me back before I pulled away with a smile. "I'm serious, Seb. Thank you,"  He shook his head. "Don't thank me. You're doing me a favor, now it's time I do the same." He said, reminding me again how fake this all was.  I stepped back from his hold and nodded. "Alright, I'm going to go pack a few things."  "Wait, how are you feeling?" He asked smugly. "I didn't think you'd be alive today."  I gave a small smile. "Well, the news I got this morning sobered me up pretty good."  His smirk fell and was soon replaced with worry. "What happened?"  "I don't really want to talk about it." I said, knowing I'd burst with tears if I did so.  He looked like he wanted to say something but just nodded before walking away.