Zara barely made it to the bathroom, her leg throbbing with every step. Gripping the edge of the sink for support, she slumped in front of the toilet just in time as she vomited, the bitter taste of bile burning her throat. Her body shook with each heave, and the small bathroom echoed with the raw sounds of her retching.
When it finally subsided, she collapsed against the cool tiled floor, gasping for breath. Sweat clung to her brow, and her chest rose and fell in rapid, uneven bursts. Her hand flew to her chest as she muttered, half-dazed, "Why does his cologne smell so awful? Did it expire or something? God, he didn't even check the label... I need to talk to him about that."
Zara pulled herself to her feet, rinsed her mouth, splashed water on her face, and hobbled out of the bathroom. She expected to find him waiting, concerned. But the room was empty. There was no sign of Nathaniel.
