CHAPTER 25: I'M SORRY

"Umh..." I stir in my bed, turning my body and stretching it before finally opening my eyes. I regret both actions immediately as I curse under my breath from the stinging pain that I forgot was still there, and cover my eyes with my hand as the bright sunlight pierces through the window.

My head starts to pound again, though it doesn't pound as hard as before and my body feels oddly heavy and aching. I heave out a loud sigh as I pull myself up to a sitting position. Chuck, who has been sitting against the bed, turns around and smiles at me.

"Hi," He greets me with his warm smile, trying his best to hide his concern though failing miserably. I can hear it clearly in his voice and see it even clearer in his eyes.

"Where is everybody?" I ask him, not acknowledging his concerns. I search around the room which is now empty except for Chuck and me.

"Gone," Chuck says and reaches out his hand to touch my forehead. "You had a slight fever," He informs me.

"Oh?"

"Still do," He states. I touch my own face but feel nothing.

"I'm fine," I tell Chuck. Yeah, right. I feel pretty weak and Chuck knows it when his eyes show even more concern for me. "I'm fine, Chuck," I tell him again. He's about to say something but decides against it when he closes his mouth and just sighs heavily before standing up.

"I got you ginger chicken porridge," He tells me as he makes his way to my kitchen. I groan as I try to sit up straight and lean back to the headboard, trying to not show the pain on my face. I don't want Chuck to become even more worried and starts to pester me and hovering over me, asking this and that. I am not ready to tell him anything. And I don't think I ever would either.

"Thanks," I smile at him gratefully and apologetically as I take the bowl from his hand.

I'm not hungry, though. Food is the last thing on my mind right now. I can even taste anything as I gulped a spoonful of broth. Everything tastes, feels bitter at the moment.

Chuck, thankfully, just sits on the bed with me after he shifts my position gently so he's the one sitting and leaning on the headboard while I sit between his legs, my back leaning against his chest as he plays with his phone while I eat what little I can manage to shove down my throat without gagging.

The silence is comforting.

That is before he breaks it.

"Marsha says to get you to the doctor if your fever hasn't come down by night," He tells me. I groan.

"You told on me?" I ask, though I already know that he did.

"What the husband knows, the wife has to know also," He says jokingly, though not that lightly. He's still concerned. I groan again.

"You're taking this rumor to the next level. You and Marsha," I tell him.

"Yeah? Well, we love you, so let us indulge ourselves while you just shut up, eat your damn soup and just do as you're told, okay?" I would've been pissed at his words if he didn't say it ever so gently as he caresses my hair.

"I'm not really hungry," I mumble to him, stirring my porridge absentmindedly.

"Just a few more spoons," Chuck says. "Please?" he adds and I nod reluctantly before taking another spoon and swallow the content. Four spoons are all I can manage before I set the bowl on the bedside table. Chuck sighs and hands me two pills and a glass of water from that table. I take the pills and chug down the water.

"Did something happen?" Chuck asks slowly as I close my eyes. He wraps his hands around me. They feel comforting.

I know better than to lie to my best friends. They always find out. But I do anyway.

"Just exhausted," I tell him softly.

"Okay," He answers. I sense a little sarcasm and a huge load of worry but I decide to keep my mouth shut or else I will be pouring everything out.

We then just sit there on the bed silently. Not the awkward kind of silence, but a comfortable one. Chuck is staring at the TV which is showing that horrid horror series from America. Thankfully, he mute the TV so I don't have to listen to the terrifying sounds (I hate horror movies or stories or anything involving ghosts) though by doing that he won't be able to understand the show (no subtitle). He's sweet like that. He's always been sweet.

Allen is sweet too... he treats me kindly. Very gentle. He's very mature...

Or so I thought he was.

Underneath all of that, I saw more than I can stomach. His recklessness. His childlike arrogance. His rough attitude. No, not violent. Just rough. As if he doesn't know how to control his strength. His neediness. His strong will. Stubbornness.

Those things are hidden way below the surface. But somehow I manage to sense them. See them even, at times. Even more so apparent last night.

He was dominant. He was rough. Needy. Almost desperate.

Gentle.

He was still gentle and soft. Sweet... Loving.

He showed me all of those things. Did all of that. To me.

But what is it that he really wants with me? Was he just playing me?

Perhaps he knows about how I feel for him?

Was that why he slept with me?

Was he experimenting?

Curious?

I know he had slept with girls, well, his girlfriend. Joy told me herself.

Then it must have been it, right? Curiosity? He wants to know how it feels like. Having sex with a guy. And probably because my feelings are so apparent to him, he chose me... Right?

But now what? He must be done with me.

I no longer want to care and question the whys and hows. I just want to forget about it. About everything.

I grit my teeth as I feel a cold tear roll down my cheek. I quickly wipe it, not wanting Chuck to see it. But too late.

"Lee?" Chuck calls in surprise as another tear rolls down and I try to wipe it forcefully. I immediately bring my knees up and hide my face between them. I no longer care about the sudden pain that stings me from the sudden movement. I want it to hurt. I want my body to feel more pain. Just not my heart. I can't bear it. The pain is killing me. It feels like someone is constantly ripping my chest open, grabbing a hold of my heart and squeezing it with all their might.

I start to sob. Chuck holds me even tighter, clearly in panic. I would've laughed because Chuck's rarely panics but it hurts too much so I just sob.

"Lee? Baby? What's wrong?" Chuck tries to sound calm and gentle though the obvious panic in his voice makes him fail miserably.

I also normally would've smacked that big head of his for calling me baby. I hate it when he calls me that.

"Babe? Please..." he pleads.

Or babe...

"Are you hurt somewhere? Is it your stomach? Your head?" he keeps asking while I keep shaking my head.

Chuck shifts his body uncomfortably whilst holding me. He's always uncomfortable whenever I cry or get hurt because he always blames himself for everything bad that happens to me and he doesn't know how to make it better. But thankfully he stops asking me questions and just holds me closer (if that's even possible. I'm practically on his lap as of a few moments ago and I am practically clinging onto him) and strokes my hair gently as he let me cry on his chest.

"It's okay. I'm here," He whispers to me softly. "I love you. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," He repeatedly tells me.

His honesty, his genuine feeling is killing me. I don't want to see the disappointment, the hurt he will feel when he finds out that his best friend is such a slut.

"Calmed down?" Chuck asks after a while.

I nod. I've stopped crying. I don't know how long I was crying, but right now, I feel exhausted, if I wasn't already.

Chuck is still holding me. He sits Indian style on my bed while is sit on his legs. My cheek comfortably resting on the crook of his neck. His hands wrap around my waist while mine are clutching tightly to his shirt.

"Are you okay?" he asks again, softer this time.

"I'm just..."

Hurt?

Frightened?

Embarrassed?

Feeling guilty?

Hurt?

"Exhausted..." I tell him.

"Sleep then," He says. I know he didn't buy it but I'm thankful that he's not pressing.

"Then let me go," I say to him when he's not letting me go to lie on the bed.

"Are you uncomfortable?" he asks.

"That's not it," I manage a tired chuckle.

"Then sleep," He orders. I let out another weak chuckle before closing my eyes.

"Chuck..." I call him softly, weakly as my mind slowly going blank.

"Hmm?" he answers.

"I love you..." I tell him. "And I'm sorry."