Goddesses Don't Get Sick (14 page)

THIRTY-EIGHT.

EVERYONE COMMENTED
how beautiful the wedding was.

The church was immaculate, the music wonderful, and the bride a sight to behold.

As she’d repeated the vows after the priest (in a voice that sounded distant, not hers), took Jason’s name as her own, and exchanged the rings, tears shone in her eyes. Everyone at the wedding thought this was the perfect display of her love. Angela just told herself to keep smiling, lest anyone notice anything was wrong.

(
What am I doing?
)

Thankful that she had no need to make a speech, Angela spent the reception smiling until her face hurt, ever conscious of Jason’s grip on her hand and the overjoyed expression on his face.

Sharon sat next to her at the bridal table, watching her friend smile and force laughter at the bad jokes. Should she have said something? A faint gnawing of guilt in Sharon’s gut told her that she should have, although she still didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. Not today. If only she’d thought to ask before…

At one point in the evening, Angela picked up her wine glass and stared at the ruby liquid inside, wondering if she’d had too much to drink.

(
Does it really matter?
)

There would be no Angel to save her from this decision.

And then, hours later and most definitely drunk, the newlyweds escaped the reception and were driven to their hotel suite. Jason checked them in, and he and Angela followed the bellhop to their room.

Jason insisted on carrying her over the threshold.

“It’s a tradition,” he said as he picked her up, wavering only slightly from his own alcohol intake. “Pays homage to some Greek god or something.”

“Hestia,” Angela murmured, remembering the books Tuyen had given her. She wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck as he manoeuvred her through the doorway.

“What was that, hon?” He asked, drunk enough that it was an effort to focus on not hitting Angela’s head in the hallway. She sighed softly and shook her head.

“Nothing.”

Reaching the bed, Jason stumbled as he laid Angela on it, flopping down next to her on the bed. He grinned sheepishly at her, his hand reaching behind her to start fumbling at the intricate mess of buttons, lacing and zips that held the dress on.

Angela endured for a short while, before she gently pushed Jason off her and stood up to undo it herself, turning her back to a mirror on the opposite wall. Jason continued to grin as he watched his wife undress, before he stood up to remove his own clothes.

And then she was on the bed, naked and waiting for her husband to consummate their vows. They were no strangers to one another’s bodies but Jason took his time that night, rediscovering her body as he whispered sweet nothings to her. When he entered her, Angela held him close and stared beyond him at the patterns the lights outside made through the window, wondering what kind of shadows Tuyen’s wings would leave in similar lighting.

Guilt began to creep into her mind.

(
Stop comparing them
)

I’m not.

(
Liar
)

As Jason tensed and arched against her, crying out her name, all Angela could do was hold him to her and fight the sob that threatened to escape her lips, resulting instead with a strangled moan that was mistaken by her husband as her own climax.

Collapsing on top of her, Jason mumbled something that might have been “I love you,” and rolled off her. Minutes later, he was asleep, snoring softly.

Sighing, Angela got out of bed and went to clean herself up. Closing the bathroom door behind her, she looked at the wedding ring on her hand, and broke down. Venting the violent sobs that had been building up all day, Angela felt as if she was being torn apart.

Oh Tuyen, I’m so sorry…
She keened as quietly as she could, clutching at the feather as she leaned against the bathroom door. It had made sense to marry Jason, once, but now all Angela could think of was her Angel.

She cried herself out until there was nothing left. Cleaning the sticky warmth that had trailed down her legs, Angela washed the tears and makeup from her face and returned to the bed. Lying down next to Jason, she soon fell into an exhausted sleep, her hand still clutching the feather.

Tuyen sat on the edge of his private cliff. A huddled form beneath his wings, the burn on his face was now a red and angry slash across his cheek.

He’d watched as Angela had left the wedding, if nothing else to collect a memory of her in a wedding dress, laughing and smiling. He’d considered masquerading as a guest and entering the church, but after the Sentinels’ reaction he didn’t dare get too close.

Besides
, he thought bitterly,
would you really be able to
watch
her take his name without protest?

The Angel had spent the rest of the day solely focused on Angela, picking up her melancholy through the feather. He didn’t understand why she’d worn it—why would she think he’d want to know what she was feeling as she married another man?

Is she trying to tell me the other night was a mistake?
Tuyen’s heart wrenched at the idea. She’d seemed so
happy
that evening…had she regretted it once the moment passed?

The strongest emotion he picked up on throughout the day, and the one that confused him the most, was regret.

Does she regret being with him, or me?
He wondered to himself, afraid to know the real answer.

Then the night came. And so too did his imagination, full of images of what they would be doing together. As he wondered unhappily what Jason was like by comparison, Tuyen suddenly felt the surge of emotion as Angela choked back a sob beneath her climaxing husband.

And like him, Tuyen mistook it for something it was not.

She regrets it,
he thought miserably, his heart breaking as the emotional deluge of Angela’s sobbing in the bathroom hit him shortly after.
Oh, Goddess, she regrets me.

Hugging his knees to his chest, the Angel wrapped his wings tighter around him and welcomed the tears as his heart crumbled.

I am so sorry, my love
.

THIRTY-NINE.

“I USED TO PRAY AT NIGHT
that I’d wake up to you like this,” Jason mumbled sleepily in Angela’s ear as they woke the next morning.

“So what were the last three years?” Angela yawned, stretched, and winced slightly at an unfamiliar pain in her gut.
Too much food while wearing a corset?
She wondered sleepily.

“You know what I mean,” Jason smiled and nuzzled Angela’s neck, his left hand reaching to interlock with her own and play with the wedding rings.

“I guess some prayers are answered then,” Angela’s smile turned into a grimace as her stomach cramped again. “Urgh. I call bathroom,” she groaned as she rolled out of bed, feeling Jason’s eyes on her even as she closed the door.

Running her fingers through her hair, Angela sighed and turned on the shower, setting the temperature low to wake her up properly.

This is what I get for giving that ‘eat, drink and be merry’ motto a try
…

After checking out of the hotel, Jason and Angela stopped by their new home to exchange wedding clothes for suitcases, and caught a taxi to the airport where they boarded a plane to begin their honeymoon. Angela had once expressed a wish to tour Europe, and so Jason had endeavoured to organize the perfect trip through Italy, Greece, France, and Germany. Where most people would have insisted on beginning at the most romantic city, Angela was more interested in seeing other parts of Europe first.

Fidgeting slightly, Angela sat in her window seat and looked out at the world below her, growing smaller by the second. As the plane climbed into the air, her stomach protested slightly. The queasy feeling hadn’t left her all morning, but Angela just attributed it to the excess of alcohol and emotions the previous day.

That, and the fact that the last time Angela had left the country things had gone badly, did nothing to sooth her agitation.

“You okay?” Jason asked, pulling Angela’s attention from the small window back to him.

She smiled tiredly. “Uh huh. Just still recovering from yesterday I guess.”

“Yeah, sorry. If I’d have known every member of my extended family wanted to make a toast, I’d have warned you,” he smiled sheepishly, looking a little hung over himself. Angela chuckled weakly and patted his hand.

“‘s all right, I just need a couple of hours to adjust. Should be fine by the time we land.”

Her husband smiled at her, his expression reminding Angela once again of a lovesick puppy.
I wonder how long before I grow to hate that look
. Angela kept that thought from her expression as Jason picked up her hand and kissed it gently, before turning back to the book he was reading.

Angela spent a few moments surfing through the channels on the entertainment unit built into the seat in front of her, until the moving images on the tiny screen made her head hurt. Bringing one knee up to her chest, Angela hugged it and settled for watching the clouds pass below them.

They spent the first four days of their trip in Italy, starting in Venice and making their way through the country to Pisa. They fumbled their way through the language, tried the local cuisine, and spent their last day in the city visiting the Leaning Tower. It was like something out of a romantic movie or novel; everything Angela had pictured Italy to be, and sweet enough even for her to enjoy herself with Jason.

Except for the sickness.

Unbeknownst yet to her husband, Angela had been waking up with the sun every morning since they arrived in Europe, and spending the better part of an hour vomiting. The fact that Jason was a heavy sleeper had kept him from noticing this, but it was beginning to carry through into the day, leaving her with no appetite and a horribly queasy feeling that was akin to seasickness.

Greece—the one country Angela had looked forward to the most—was an unfortunate blur to Angela. She spent so much time concentrating on keeping food down, that she barely had time to enjoy the sights she’d so longed to see. It got to the extent that even Jason was beginning to notice and ask if she was okay.

By the time they reached Paris, now married for over a week, a small seed of worried doubt had begun to creep into Angela’s thoughts. Especially when she checked her calendar one night, and found it amiss with her situation.

“I’m going to see if I can find a newspaper in English,” Jason picked up his wallet as he headed for the hotel door. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thanks,” Angela shook her head and managed a smile. Jason returned the smile warmly, before he blew a kiss and left the room.

When she was certain he was gone, Angela picked up her purse, and pulled from it the home pregnancy test she’d bought earlier in the day, while Jason had been preoccupied. Turning the box over until she found a small patch of instructions written in English, Angela took a deep breath and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

When Jason returned, he found his wife sitting on the hotel bed with a strange expression on her face, what looked to be a white stick clutched in her hand.

“Babe?” He asked softly, frowning in confusion as he closed the door behind him. “What’s wrong? You’ve gone all pale.”

Angela stared past him and murmured something so softly that he couldn’t make it out.

“What?” He asked, moving towards the bed and sitting next to her. Swallowing, Angela turned her gaze to her husband and repeated herself.

“I’m pregnant.”