Eight years later.

I leant over the toilet, vomiting everything that I've eaten since this morning. I shouldn't have eaten the chicken. I knew it was not good. I felt my hair being tied up. Then hands rubbing my back. I knew it was my husband all the time. I pulled away and walked to the shower. I took off my clothes and got into it.

"How are you feeling?" I turned my head to look at Aiden. He was standing there, concern dancing in his eyes. I gave him a reassuring smile and pulled him under the shower, with his clothes still on.

"The food was not good" I...