Swim To Me by Elle Knox

Author:Elle Knox [Knox, Elle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-09-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Delilah

“We’re pushing the deadline back, is everyone in agreement with that?”

I nod at my boss, wishing I was anywhere but this boardroom right now when the pulsing behind my eye only starts to become stronger. Blearily, I blink, noticing the small, shapeless silver blobs marring my vision.

Unscrewing the cap of my water bottle, I take a sip of cool water, but it’s futile. I’ve got a bloody migraine coming on.

Running my thumb along my brow bone in an attempt to soothe the deadly ache, I try to remain as professional as possible without slouching or ruining my carefully applied makeup. But all I really want to do is lie down and close my eyes.

My bosses and I wrap up our weekly Tuesday meeting within the hour, but still, I have to trudge back to my desk and finish out the rest of the working day in agony.

The blue light from my computer taunts me, as do the printed-out manuscripts sitting in front of me, their words meshing together, piercing my brain with tiny, very painful, pinpricks.

I pop a painkiller with a glug of water, but it does nothing. I roll my neck when the static burn begins to slip down the left-hand side, but it does nothing. I close my eyes, wishing for a moment of reprieve, but it does nothing, other than make me feel more like I’m going to vomit.

By the time five pm ticks around I’m a shaking, face like a white sheet, mess.

Leaving the office and catching the tube home is all of a bit of blur. I spend most of my time gripping onto the plastic edges of my seat, feeling extremely nauseous while the carriages sway and the scent of too sweet perfume and human body odour permeates my nose.

Once in the safe confines of my apartment I dump my handbag on the sofa, kick off my heels haphazardly and practically sprint to the toilet. The contents of my lunch leaves my stomach forcefully, plus that chocolate bar I nibbled on hoping the sugar would give me a boost.

Wiping my mouth with some toilet paper, I rest my cheek against the cool, porcelain seat. My legs have gone fully numb beneath me, but the continuous pulsing in my head threatens to upturn my stomach again, so I close my eyes and stay where I am.

I don’t know how long I’m out for, but I come too splayed out across my bathroom floor, body weak, head heavy, mouth dry and disgusting tasting.

On hands and knees, I crawl back to my living room, reaching for my mobile phone and flinching at it’s too bright light.

I open my thread of text messages, clicking on the contact name at the top, and start to type with shaky hands.

Me: I have the world’s worst migraine… don’t think I’ll be able to make my swimming lesson tomorrow xx

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