Locked in the Room During an Allergy Attack Because I Couldn’t Speak Chapter 03

Locked in the Room During an Allergy Attack Because I Couldn’t Speak Chapter 03

The next day, Tansy said the house felt too stuffy. She had to invite friends over.

“Tierney can’t go out. I should at least keep her entertained, right?”

She made it sound so considerate.

By three in the afternoon, the living room was packed.

The coffee table was covered in beer, chips, deli snacks, and two bowls of nuts.

I glanced at the bowls and reached for my phone to type something.

Slade moved them out of reach first.

“Keep those away from her.”

Someone laughed. “Look at you, man. Pretty attentive.”

Tansy laughed too. “Of course he is. Otherwise Tierney wouldn’t get away with giving him such a hard time.”

The room went quiet for a second. Then someone picked it back up.

“Yeah. Last night was intense.”

“I thought it was a big deal at first. But then Tansy explained everything. It was just jealousy, right? You two hanging out too much?”

My fingers hovered over the screen.

Tansy waved her hand immediately.

“Don’t say that. Tierney just has trust issues.”

She sat down beside me and gently nudged my arm.

“Right, Tierney?”

I looked down and didn’t type anything.

When they played truth or dare, someone drew Slade’s name.

“What’s the one thing you can’t stand about your girlfriend?”

Before the question landed, Tansy shot her hand up.

“I know this one.”

She looked at me, smiling.

“She drags everything out.”

The room exploded.

“Too real.”

“Tansy, has she put you through hell or what?”

Tansy doubled over laughing.

“No way. I’m always on Tierney’s side.”

“But she was like this even when she could talk. Now that she can’t, the typing makes it worse.”

Slade held his cards. He smiled.

He didn’t deny it.

I picked up my phone and typed slowly: [I don’t want to play anymore.]

Before I could send it, Tansy shoved the next card into my hand.

“Tierney loses.”

“Drink up. Drink up.”

Slade frowned and took the glass away.

“She can’t drink.”

He got me a cup of hot water with lemon instead.

He even tested the temperature with his fingertips before sliding it toward me.

Then Tansy grabbed the glass of alcohol.

“I’ll drink for her.”

She tipped her head back and downed it. She coughed, eyes rimmed red.

Slade handed her a tissue immediately.

“Show-off.”

Tansy waved him off. Her voice was a little hoarse.

“What can I say? This bestie’s life is hard.”

“Sticking up for her. Taking the heat for her. Now drinking for her.”

The friends laughed again.

Someone shouted, “Tansy’s more of a girlfriend than the actual girlfriend.”

Tansy covered her mouth immediately.

“Don’t say that. Tierney will get upset.”

Everyone looked at me.

If I so much as frowned, I’d be the difficult one.

Later, they started playing music.

Tansy scrolled through her phone for ages. Then her eyes lit up.

“This one. Didn’t Tierney and Slade used to sing this all the time?”

It was that song.

The one Slade pulled me up to sing when we first got together.

He held my hand and said we’d sing it every anniversary.

The intro started. Tansy held the microphone out to me.

“Tierney. Come on. A duet.”

The words left her mouth. Then, like she’d just remembered, she pulled the mic back.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I forgot you can’t sing anymore.”

“I’ll sing it for you then. I know it pretty well too.”

Slade looked at me.

There was a flicker of hesitation.

I thought he’d say no.

Tansy had already shoved the other mic into his hand.

“Slade. Hurry up.”

He took it.

They stood in the middle of the living room and sang.

Friends recorded videos on their phones.

I sat at the edge of the couch, watching the lyrics scroll on the screen, unable to make a single sound.

It was almost midnight when the party ended.

Tansy had been drinking. She curled up on the couch, hugging a cushion.

“Slade. My throat kind of hurts.”

He touched her forehead.

“I’ll take you in tomorrow.”

I looked up at him.

Tomorrow was my follow-up appointment.

The doctor had said one week. No later.

I’d waited six days for that specialist.

Slade glanced at his phone like he’d just remembered.

“Let Tansy take your slot.”

I stood up so fast my knee hit the coffee table. The water glass wobbled.

He frowned. “She drank for you tonight. Now her throat hurts.”

Tansy sat up immediately.

“No, no. Tierney needs it more than me.”

Then she coughed, soft and low.

Slade’s voice hardened.

“Don’t argue.”

“You can’t talk anyway. One day won’t make a difference.”

At the hospital the next day, Slade went to park the car.

Tansy trailed beside him, holding her throat.

I didn’t wait for them.

I grabbed my paperwork. Checked in. Went straight to the exam room.

The doctor looked at my laryngoscopy results and was quiet for a moment.

“The recovery isn’t good.”

“If this keeps up, your voice will be permanently affected.”

I typed on my phone: [I’m heading to a hospital in Frostwick. Today.]

The doctor looked at me and nodded.

“The sooner the better.”

When I came out with my results, the hallway was empty.

No Slade. No Tansy.

A message popped up on my phone:

[Tansy’s been taking care of you all week. Now you’re fighting her over one appointment? Can you stop being so petty?]

[Whatever. When Tansy’s done, apologize to her properly.]

[She drank for you last night and didn’t even fight you for the appointment today. Stop being so ungrateful.]

I stood at the hospital entrance. The wind stung my throat.

A cab pulled up. The driver asked where I was going.

I held up my phone. The screen showed the airport address.

3:20 PM. The plane took off.

Before I turned off my phone, Slade called again.

I watched his name glow on the screen.

Then I declined. Blocked.

I was done with both of them.