Song: "Sorry" by Justin Bieber

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When I got to my car, I sat in the driver's seat and wept. I finally texted both Gabby and Beth, saying, I got sick over lunch. It came on really quick but I threw up and feel lousy. Must be a stomach bug going around. Sorry. 

It wasn't the exact truth, but I did throw up; at least that part was true. Or maybe I was really coming down with something. I hated to think that Harry and our messed up relationship could be the sole cause for my misery. It might have been more professional to call, but I didn't trust my voice to not give away my current emotional state.

I finally started my car and drove through Taco Bell where I was tempted to order twice the amount of food I would normally eat. I was so upset, yet so hungry, but I opted for a few soft tacos and a Coke. I hoped it wouldn't make me sick again. I ate some in the parking lot, and then I munched the rest of the way to my parents' home as my stomach would allow.

I still had a key so I'd be able to let myself in if my family wasn't home, but thankfully Mom was there. I needed her more than anything. She knew something was wrong right away. Obviously. Why else would her 22-year-old daughter show up in the middle of a work day with red eyes and a runny nose, carrying an overnight bag?

"Oh, baby, what happened?" She asked in that way only a mother can do. She pulled me inside, shut the door and held me.

I burst into angry, ugly sobs once again, crying until I couldn't cry anymore. When I finally stopped, she took my things to my room and I wandered to the kitchen table and plopped down in a chair. When she came back, she asked, "Do you want something to drink? Tea or coffee? Or maybe something cold?" 

I laughed suddenly said, "No, but I'm dying for some ice cream." My appetite was back at least.

"Ice cream it is," she said, pulling out a container of vanilla and one of Death By Chocolate. She set the DBC in front of me, knowing that was my absolute favorite. "Nothing like some ice cream for a broken heart, huh? Or at least a troubled heart."

I ate a few bites, trying to control my emotions. Then I told her everything about Cathryn's family and how rudely they had treated me. I hadn't really had the occasion to tell her any of it before because it had all happened just before the holidays and I didn't want to spoil our celebrations together talking about that whole chaotic event. Besides, Harry and I had made up by then, so it wasn't really relevant. But now I filled her in on everything, from their rude behavior to Harry's accusations and revelations, and then on to the necklace and the dreams I'd been having about Cathryn.

My mother had always been the best listener. She just nodded and absorbed everything while I went on forever. I finally wrapped everything up by saying, "I don't even know if I have a right to be upset. I mean, it really doesn't involve me directly, right? It's between him and Cathryn's family, right?" 

"Oh honey, you do have the right to be upset because you asked him specifically about the necklace and he lied to you," she said. "And he knew what your dreams meant and lied about that, too. He got you involved as soon as he introduced you to that ridiculous mess."

"So you don't think that's crazy, that I heard messages from Harry's dead wife in my dreams?"

"What do you think?" I hated when she turned the question back on me.

"Theoretically, I believe it's possible, but it's hard to believe when it could happen to me, I suppose. And why would Cathryn contact me? If I told anyone that, they'd think I was certifiably insane."

"You told Harry. And you told me. I don't think you're insane, and I'm pretty sure Harry knows you're not," Mom said in all seriousness. "Regan, it would be silly for us to believe there's no world or no life beyond this one. There is too much evidence that these kinds of things happen, quite often I think, although not everyone believes it, and some people just don't listen. But that's one thing we have to hold on to after someone we love dies - there are still signs they send to us, to let us know they're okay."

"Yeah, I think you're right," I admitted sheepishly. "I've just never had something like that happen to me."

"When you think about it, it makes a lot of sense that it happened to you," she observed. "If she had tried to tell Harry anything, he might have just dismissed it as being only being a dream or perhaps his guilty conscience. And then I'm sure there were times he so desperately wanted to hear her voice or see her again that he would have believed anything. But hearing it from you probably made it so much more real for him, especially when you had knowledge of specific things, like the box and the locket."

"Then why did he lie to me when I told him about the dreams? Why wouldn't he acknowledge that they meant something to him?"

"My guess is that you caught him by surprise," she said in a matter-of-fact way. "It had to be a shock for him to hear you speak about some very specific things that you wouldn't have any reason for knowing. I'm sure he had to process it for some time before he believed it was real, just like you did."

"Yeah," I sighed, giving a weak nod. 

"And the necklace," she continued. "Obviously, he shouldn't have lied, but I can kind of see where he was coming from. It meant the world to her, so it meant the world to him. It broke his heart to think about giving it back, even though it was the right thing to do. I'm not saying he should have kept it, but in all his emotional anguish since her death, and then falling in love with you, he was probably very confused and not wanting to let go of that one really special thing that reminded him of her."

"But he's basically stealing from his in-laws," I said sadly. Regardless of how I felt about the Metlers, it was wrong of Harry to keep the necklace. And it hurt me to think he was capable of that level of dishonesty.

"Technically, yes," she agreed. "But it sounds to me like those dreams of yours gave him the push he needed to do the right thing."

That was very true. When I had arrived at home, he had been very upset, obviously struggling with his conscience over the beloved piece of jewelry. I knew the moment I saw it that he was going to give it back. If he had planned to keep it, he never would have opened his fist and shown me what was in it. I wondered if he would have chosen to confide in me if I had never gone home for lunch. I liked to think so, but I didn't know, and since there was no way I could know for sure, I dropped it.

I slept for most of the afternoon, feeling utterly exhausted by the day's emotional upheaval. I ate dinner with my family and went straight back to bed. I had to make it to work the next day, but at least it was a late shift for me. I was able to sleep til about ten in the morning, but I was still completely fatigued. I wasn't used to this level of tiredness, but neither had I ever been through so much turmoil in such a short span of time in my life.

I arrived at work just after noon, but Gabby took one look at me and said, "Go home. Whatever you had yesterday, you still have it. Your eyes are sunken and you're white as a sheet."

What I had was heartache, and I was pretty sure that another day of rest wouldn't solve it, but I couldn't argue that I was craving my bed. Still, I tried to convince my boss to the contrary. "Gabby, I've missed so much work. I don't want to keep leaving you in the lurch. You know me, I'm as reliable as they come. Usually anyway."

"That's exactly why I'm sending you home," she insisted. "You're clearly not well, but you want to be here anyway. I admire that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by pushing yourself. Plus, if you've got the flu, I don't want it. Now go." She gave me an understanding smile.

"Thank you," I said and turned to leave.

She started to say, "Let me know if you need tomorrow off, too," but before she even finished, I grasped the door frame as a wave of dizziness threw me off balance. Gabby came running over, and Beth appeared as well. 

"Sit down," Gabby said, grabbing a chair on which I practically collapsed. "Did you walk here?"

"No, I drove," I said weakly.

"Well, you're not fit to drive now," Beth said, getting caught up. "Honestly, Regan, your work ethic is a little too strong," she teased. Then she told Gabby, "I can drive her home and just walk back, if that's okay. It's only a few blocks."

"Certainly," Gabby agreed.

I felt so foolish, having tried to come to work when I was this sick. I guessed it wasn't just heartbreak after all; I obviously had some kind of bug. Hopefully it wouldn't last long; I hated being sick.

It wasn't til we got into my car that I remembered. "I'm not staying at my apartment right now. I don't know what I was thinking."

"And why aren't you staying there?" Beth demanded.

"Harry and I had a fight." My voice was forlorn. "But I guess you can't drive me to my folks' place, so I'll just have to stay at mine til I feel better."

"Promise me you won't drive until you're one hundred percent better," she urged as she made the quick drive to my apartment. "Or have your mom come and get you."

"Fine," I said, not wanting to do anything right then but sleep.

Beth helped me upstairs; when I arrived at my door and unlocked it, Harry was there and came to see what was going on, clearly not expecting to see me. His eyes flew wide open with concern. "What's wrong?" He immediately took over, helping me to the couch.

"She almost passed out," Beth explained, shaking her head. "Silly girl tried to come in to work sick."

"I have the flu," I said in a small, childlike voice.

"Thank you," Harry said to Beth and she was gone after she promised me she'd call me later. Then he sat down and felt my forehead. "You feel clammy but not feverish. Do you want to lie down?"

I nodded tiredly. "I just want to go to bed."

Without another word, Harry hoisted me up and helped me to the bed. He bent down and took off my boots and then removed my coat. "Can I get you anything?"

"Maybe a cup of tea," I said with a grateful smile.

When he came back with the tea, he said, "Do you want me to go? Or if you'd like, I can drive you back to your parents' place when you're ready."

"I don't want to be alone," I confessed. "Will you call my mom, though, and tell her what happened? I don't want her to get worried when I don't come home after work. I can talk to her later, once I've gotten some sleep."

"Sure thing, my sweet," he said softly and closed the door.

As angry as I had been, and as confused as I still was, his words brought comfort to my heart.

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Crazy things going on! Are you still with me?

And thank you so much for 40K reads!!! <3