CHAPTER 91: PINKY SWEAR
Silence hung heavy in the car, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. Diana stared out the window, her brow furrowed. James stole glances at her, concern etching lines on his face.
Grandma Suzanne occupied the front seat with Antonio, leaving James and Diana to occupy the back.
"Hey, are you alright?" James finally asked, reaching for her hand. His touch sent a jolt through her, a mix of comfort and unease.
He could tell she obviously was not okay. She was probably thinking about what had just happened and how she felt responsible. "Diana, you should know what happened in there was not your—"
Before he could finish, Diana quickly responded, "I know, James. I'm tired. she mumbled, her gaze lingering on the retreating scenery. "Can we not talk about it?"
He squeezed her hand gently. "Okay," he conceded, pulling her into a loose embrace. He kissed her hair, the gesture a silent promise of protection and support.
"Rest," he whispered. "I'll let you know when we're home."
"Alright," Diana said, closing her eyes. In truth, she was exhausted. She didn't realize a quarrel could drain someone that much. Just as she tried to relax, a strong wave of nausea washed over her.
"Stop the car!" she cried, her voice tinged with panic.
James reacted instantly, alerting Antonio. The car lurched to a halt just as Diana flung open the door and rushed out.
Suzanne and James was beside her in a flash. Suzanne held her hair back as Diana emptied her stomach. When she was done throwing up, she looked up, feeling disoriented.
The world spun, a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors. James knelt beside her, his voice a steady anchor in the storm brewing inside her.
"Diana," he said gently, catching her eye. "Don't close your eyes. Stay with me."
"Diana," Suzanne called, "don't close your eyes. Try to fight through the dizziness."
With a shaky hand, Diana reached for the water bottle James offered. Rinsing her mouth, she tried to focus on their worried faces.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Suzanne asked, her voice trembling.
"I'm fine, Grandma," Diana rasped, pushing herself upright and climbing back into the car.
Back in the car, she flushed away the remnants of her illness, a strange fatigue clinging to her as their journey resumed.
Once settled, James fixed her with a serious stare.
"Babe, when I left to get a glass of juice for you, did you really take the medicine like you told me you did?" Tears pooled in Diana's eyes as she shook her head.
"No," she whispered. Shame burned in her throat.
"Diana," James began, jaw clenched and ready to shout, but Diana cut him off, her voice thick with emotion.
"Treasure, please," she sobbed. "Can you not yell? That's the last thing I need right now, and I'm sorry I lied to you. I really am."
James was livid but tried to control himself. He took a deep breath, visibly forcing down his anger.
He drew her close, his embrace a mix of comfort and controlled frustration. Diana could feel the tension radiating from him, a physical manifestation of his disappointment.
She knew he was still angry with her because his body quickly set off its defense mechanism, putting up an intimidating aura—it was like a default setting with him.
"Babe, please," Diana said in a small voice, burying herself further into his chest. "I know I messed up. I'm so sorry."
"How will you get better if you don't take your medications and you even lie to me about it?" he growled, frustration lacing his voice.
"Were you trying to scare me? Scare yourself? Or are you looking for something to happen to you or the baby?"
"What? How can you say that?" Diana cried, looking at him.
"Then explain this to me," James spat back angrily.
"I said I'm sorry," she sniffed. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again. It won't repeat itself."
"Is that a promise?" James asked.
"Pinky swear," Diana said, holding out her little pinky finger, a ghost of a smile flickering on her lips.
James flicked her forehead playfully, earning a watery giggle as she cried, "Ouch,". The tension finally eased from his shoulders.
In the front seat, Suzanne watched them with a tender smile. Despite the chaos of the day, a quiet certainty bloomed in her heart. They had each other, and that was all that truly mattered.