I woke up with a blinding headache the next morning. Nauseated, I could just barely sit up without vomiting. I couldn’t even remember what happened the night before after I started using the barf bag.
Groaning, I looked at my phone. 10:30 a.m. Shit.
I was so late. The last time I was late was when my apartment flooded, and Arthur didn’t take it too well then. He certainly wouldn’t take a hangover from my best friend’s birthday party as a better excuse.
I checked my notifications. I already had four texts and two missed calls from Arthur. I would have so much explaining to do when I got to work.
I shot Arthur a quick text.
I’ll be there ASAP.
He replied inhumanly fast.
Please hurry. I’m lost without you.
It was a bit endearing and unnerving at the same time. I was used to having people depend on me—Bob’s family had piled all the housework on me all the time—but I wasn’t used to people actually admitting that they needed me.