Gone

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"You wanna do something tonight, Ames? Go out somewhere?"

Amy turned from her task of sorting out her toiletries from her bag to the hotel bathroom and looked at Matt. She couldn't help wishing he wasn't there with her. It wasn't really his fault, though. She shook her head.

"I'm not really up for a night of clubbing," she replied. She pushed a lock of red hair behind one ear as she stepped out of the lavatory. "But if *you* want to go..." She gestured with both hands. "... by all means - don't let *me* stop you."

"Well... I thought it would be more fun if you came with me, but... okay," the dark-haired man agreed. A small smile crossed his lips as he came toward her.

Amy's guard shot up as she noticed the familiar way he behaved when he 'wanted some lovin',' and she sucked a breath. Damn it, she really didn't feel that way toward him anymore - which was the *perfect* reason why she should have gotten it over with already. And after her conversation with Adam a few days earlier, she told herself she was *going* to do it.

'Tell him!' she told herself as he inched closer, his arms opening for her. She shifted her gaze around helplessly, wishing she had the guts to just do it. Damn it, what was *wrong* with her? There were vitally important things she needed to tell *two* men who both had a right to know certain things - but again, she did exactly what she *knew* she would do - *nothing*.

She let out the breath she'd been holding the moment Matt's arms encircled her, holding her close. Assorted visions danced through her head - Mandy... Mandy running up to Matt when he came home, jumping into his arms and calling him 'Daddy'... Adam... Mandy with Matt again... 'Daddy!' It was just plain *wrong*... It all jumbled together, and Amy thought she was going to be sick.

Violently, she shoved away from Matt, her right hand up to her mouth.

"I'm... sorry!" she cried, then ducked back into the bathroom.

She wondered what in hell was wrong with her when, a moment later, she was puking her guts out.

"Hey... My God, are you okay?" he was asking from the doorway.

She raised her left hand, holding it palm-out to him, as it came to an end. Mortified, she flushed the commode, then pushed her hair back from her face as she made her way to the sink. She was silent except for a whimper as she washed her hands, then rinsed out her mouth.

"Amy?"

The redhead kept her head bowed, eyes downcast and focused on the basin as water swirled down the drain. What in hell was wrong with her?

One thing was certain, and for which she felt relived beyond belief - she knew she wasn't pregnant. She'd been on the pill for the last several months, so she was safe.

"I... I'm fine, Matt," she insisted, but she sounded unconvincing, even to herself.

"Are you sure?" Matt questioned. "Let me feel your face."

Amy didn't protest as he did so.

"You don't have a fever." The man's face took on a look of puzzlement, but the concern returned. "Okay, it's settled. You're definitely staying in tonight - and so am I."

"No," the redhead protested. "I'm fine - you just go out and have fun." Matt seemed about to protest again, but she vehemently shook her head. "I swear, I'll be *fine*," she insisted. "Please - go out."

He nodded.

"Okay - but you call me if you need me, all right?"

Amy nodded as she exited the bathroom and stretched out on the bed in the main room.

"Good." Matt walked back into the bathroom, and the diva's head was spinning.

She thought she knew what had happened, but it was crazy. She thought she'd gotten sick because Matt had tried to touch her, but that wasn't quite it.

In reality, she'd gotten so violently ill when she thought of Mandy with Matt - calling him 'Daddy' - and all the while, Adam was in her mind.  
 
 

Part 18

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