Disease

Oliver was scrolling up and down the address book in Afton's phone when she came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. He quickly put the phone down with shaky fingers and his heart started pounding.

"What're yeh doin' with meh phone?" She grinned at him.

"Nothin'."

She frowned slightly. "Were yeh lookin' fer somethin'?"

"No."

"Oli, what were yeh doin' with it?"

He looked away from her bulbous eyes, full of question. "I was lookin' fer yer pop's number. Got the first three digits."

Suddenly, Afton grew irritated. "Why're yeh lookin' fer that?"

"Was gonna call an' invite 'im teh the weddin'."

She shook her head. "Why? Yeh know 'e 'ates yeh."

"But yer 'is daughter. Don't yeh want 'im walkin' yeh down?"

"I haven't talked teh 'im in years. Not since meh mum died and we 'ad that fight. I don't want 'im there."

"Yeh sure, love?"

"Positive."

"Well alright. Guess I won't invite 'im then." Oli said quietly, turning to look at the clock. "Well I've got teh go over teh Matt's, I'll be back in a few, alright?"

She nodded, grabbing her phone. "See yeh."

"Made yeh some tea. Don't forget teh take yer pill."

She was already walking into the bedroom and didn't reply to Oliver. He sighed, pulling on his shoes and grabbing the car keys. He stuffed the half piece of paper into his pocket and made his way outside. He knew why Afton was peeved with him and half of him didn't blame her. He remembered the fight, the anger in her dad's eyes the night she showed up over there to help arrange the funeral. He remembered her saying that she had no money and her dad was furious, spitting out insults, telling her that if she finished high school and hadn't gotten involved with a sod like Oliver she might be somewhere in life. It was a stupid fight. They were both grieving, him more so than Afton. He was upset that night and stayed upset for a while, but surely he couldn't be upset still.

Oliver put the car in drive and went towards the court house. Once he was there, he went through the logs, locating a Hanley Wright. The phone number was listed underneath the card. The last four numbers practically gleamed and glittered. Oliver pressed them into his phone and walked outside, thanking the receptionist. He put his ear to the phone and called Afton's dad, breathing out nervously.

"Allo, this is Hanley."

"Erm, 'ello."

"'ello." He said again, pausing when Oliver didn't reply. "May I ask who this is?"

"It's um. It's Oliver."

The line was quiet. Oliver breathed out heavily, but the old man didn't hang up. Maybe he could get somewhere with this.

"Yeh Afton's tattooed boyfriend?"

Oli nodded. "Yes."

"What the 'ell yeh callin' meh for?"

"Me and Af, we're um, we're gettin' married an'--"

The old man laughed, cutting Oliver off. "Yer gettin' married, huh? Yeh need some money, 'cause I don't fuckin' 'ave any if that's what yeh want."

"No." Oliver said through gritted teeth, getting irritated. "I was callin' teh see if yeh wanted teh come to the weddin'. So yeh could walk Afton down."

"She don't want meh there." He paused.

Oliver was half inclined to argue, but stopped when Hanley said. "And I sure as 'ell don't want teh be there."

Now, Oliver was angry. "Yer not even gonna show up teh yer own daughter's weddin'?"

"I've got better things teh do."

"I'm sure yeh do. Like sittin' on yer fuckin' couch and gettin' pissed, yeh old fuckin' sod!" Oli stopped himself, realizing how angry he'd just gotten. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean teh say that."

"Sure yeh didn't son. Best wishes. 'ave a nice fuckin' life with that little girl."

"Yeh 'ave a nice life too." Oliver sighed, hanging up the phone.

Oli slammed his car door shut, sitting inside. He was seething. He could feel his face getting hot, his breath quickened and his hands shook with anger. His entire body was shaking with anger. He wanted to call Hanley back and rip his fucking face off, but thought better of it. Even if he was a piece of shit, he was still a human being who'd been through a lot of shit and if he was going to handle that by hiding from it, it wasn't Oliver's business to go poking around in.

Oli pulled out his list for the wedding and crossed off 'Call Afton's dad'. There was only one thing left, which was to pick up Afton's dress. The wedding was set in stone to happen next weekend. Afton knew about it, as did everyone else. Oliver had made all the arrangements, along with his mum's help. She was going to cook dinner with Oli's nans and get everything set up. Oliver was to be there early in the morning to decorate the backyard with Tom and his dad. Later, Matt would pick up Afton and bring her to the house, where she'd change upstairs after getting her hair and make up ready for the wedding. Everything was going to go right. Every last thing. Ian would have to walk her down the aisle, of course. But obviously, that's not only what Afton's dad wanted, but Afton as well. He'd never tell her about calling her father; it would only upset her even further. Not only would she be mad at Oliver for calling him, but she'd be equally upset that her father didn't want to show up at the wedding.

--------------------------------------------------

Afton sat in the middle of her and Oliver's bed, dressed in only a pair of Oliver's boxers and a tank top that was stretched tight across her tiny stomach. She sighed loudly and ran a trembling hand through her wet hair. Her face was soaked with tears and her stomach ached tremendously. She reached over and took another sip of her tea, having already swallowed her pill for the day. She'd been doing extremely well, taking her pill everyday; with the help of Oli of course. There were days where she had simply forgotten and he was quick to remind her. The pills made her stomach upset from time to time, but she merely ignored it. Unlike today, where as she couldn't. It'd been almost an hour since Oliver had left and her stomach had been throbbing ever since. She wasn't sure if it was the nerves or her medicine, but she felt terrible.

She crawled underneath the covers and held her hands across her stomach, hoping if she was warm, the pain might subside. She lay there for almost an hour, thinking about everything that she'd been through in the last week or so. Her and Oliver were finally going to get married, and every time she thought about it, the ring on her right finger grew hot and her nerves started acting up. It wasn't that she didn't want to get married, just that she was worried. Being married to Oliver meant sticking beside him with everything, it meant waiting around for him to get back from tour, it meant everything. Not that she wouldn't have been there for him without the ring and without the vow of love. She was just scared of committing her life to something. She wasn't even sure if she had enough life left in her to actually commit to it. As the thoughts plowed through her mind, she was startled by the front door being pushed open. She lay in the bed, still as a board; knowing it was Oliver, but still being terrified because she hadn't bothered to lock the door.

"Afton?" Oli asked out loud, kicking his shoes off. "Where yeh at Love?"

"In 'ere." She said quietly, knowing he couldn't hear her.

Oliver walked into the living room and made his way into the bedroom, seeing his fiancé curled up underneath the blankets. He sat down on the edge of the bed and put a cold hand on her forehead, making her move away slightly.

"Sorry, Af. Yer real warm. Yeh alright?"

Tears started pouring from her eyes again. Her body felt so restless. Her voice became a low whine. "I don't feel good Oli. I've been takin' those fuckin' pills like 'm supposed teh and they're just makin' meh sick." She cried, burying her face in the pillow. "I can't take 'em anymore."

"Do yeh want meh teh call the doctor?" Oliver asked, reaching over to touch Afton.

She turned to look at him. "I want yeh teh make this stop hurtin' so fuckin' much. I want yeh teh make it go away." She cried. "I'm sick of this."

"Af, babe." He sighed, looking down at her. "Do yeh want meh teh get the heatin' pad?"

She shook her head. "I want yeh teh fuckin' make it stop." She cried, gripping her stomach, as it was starting to churn. "Please."

"Babe, I don't know what yeh want meh teh do." Oliver sighed, running his hands through her hair. "Do yeh want teh take a bath."

"I don't want a fuckin' bath!" She yelled. "I this teh stop!"

"Yer workin' yerself up. Just calm down. C'mere." Oli said soothingly, pulling her into his lap.

She gripped her stomach, biting her lip. "It fuckin' hurts Oli."

"I know, love. I know."

"Yeh don't know." She heaved, getting up.

"Where yeh goin'?"

Oli's question was left unanswered as Afton ran into the bathroom. Only moments later, he heard her heaving and the contents of her stomach landing in the toilet. He got up quickly and walked to the bathroom slowly, keeping a distance. He watched as she wiped her mouth. He watched as she reached up with one weak arm and flushed the toilet. He saw her contemplate on getting up. Then, she broke down. Right there, on the bathroom floor, she lost it. She collapsed into a undefined shape and her sobs grew louder and louder until she couldn't even hear them. Her body heaved up and down, and in Oliver's chest, he could feel his heart breaking for her.

He slowly made his way over to her, the smell of vomit getting stuck in his nose. He ignored it and wrapped his arms around her shaking frame.

"Love, c'mon get off the ground, we'll get yeh in the bath."

"I can't," she sobbed. "Can't."

"Yes yeh can, come on." He said, his voice breaking. "Please."

"I can't move Oliver. I can't do it. Let me alone."

"Afton, don't do this."

"I said I can't!" She cried, much like a child.

She fell limp in Oliver's grasp and continued to cry. Oliver, on the brink of losing it as well, moved away from her and ran some bath water. He stuck his fingers in it to make sure it wouldn't scald her. And it took him almost twenty minutes, but he finally lay her in the bath tub, pouring cups of water over her face, slowly enough so that she could calm down. Her nerves were causing her hands to shake and her body shuddered from the cries she was trying to suppress. After a little while, Oli sat back, leaning against the cabinets beneath the sink, running his fingers over his tired face.

Afton looked at him and didn't say anything. She brought her hand out of the water and touched the back of his hand, wetting it slightly. She pulled his fingers into her's and held his hand tight, not saying a word.

And they sat like that for a while. Slowly, Afton got herself out of the water and walked out of the bathroom, not bothering to dry herself off or take a towel with her. She left Oli in the bathroom by himself, and as she looked out the window, she could still smell the vomit in her nose, and she could still taste the bitter taste of the medication on her tongue.