NINETEEN - A TEXT

                                    

                                          
Mila wiped her face with more tissues and flushed the toilet, sighing weakly with her head lifted up from the bowl, eyes hazy and filled with tears as her stomach continued to tense and surge.
She threw up one more time, her stomach empty but the vile feeling contorted her insides and forced her to wretch, water streaming down her face as she tried to compose herself, taking minuscule sips of water in attempt to settle her stomach. 
Sitting with her back against the bathroom wall, she glanced down at her phone which was still illuminated on the now opened text message. Seeing the words on the screen made her lightheaded and pulled her heart up into her throat, but she couldn't take her eyes off it.
'Hey M, it's Logan. I hope you're good. I'd love to see you to talk about things and I think Tristan deserves to spend some time with his Dad. Let me know when you're back in town.'
The entitlement was almost baffling and to anybody else reading the message, it would have been nothing short of that. Mila, however, knew that narcissism came in now purer form than Logan Whitlock and that if anybody was going to be blindsided into thinking they had any moral rights to be involved in her life, in their son's life, it was him.
She held her phone to her ear after calling Joss, the dialling tone echoing loudly as she held her eyes closed tightly, water dripping down her face.
"Hey Mila, everything OK?"
She just swallowed, "Did you give Logan my phone number?"
"What? Of course not, I would-"
"Joss," Mila pressed, "Please don't lie to me. Did you?"
She heard him inhale deeply down the line, "No. I didn't, and I would never. I haven't seen him to speak to since I last called you. I swear, Mila. Is there anybody else you think could've passed your number on to him?"
She paused for a moment, both in thought and in guilt at accusing him. It was a bad habit she'd been stuck in now, having to question one of the people she'd never second guessed before, though a necessary habit at the least.
"Carly," Mila whispered to herself, sinking her head back against the wall with a silent groan.
"I did see her talking to him at the bar the other night. I was walking past on my way home, want me to mention something to her if I see her again?"
She nodded with her head resting in her hand even though Joss couldn't see her, "Yes, please. Tell her to not give him my parents address in Florida or to show him any pictures or videos, even though she's probably already done that."
Mila knew her friend wouldn't have done what she'd done maliciously, Carly didn't know all the ins and outs of her relationship with Logan which made the hostility she had towards him almost seem unfair. 
"Well I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I've got your back around here until you're ready to come home, Mila. Be safe now, alright?"
"Thank you, you too."
Once she was certain she wasn't going to throw up again, Mila cleaned her teeth and her face, splashing cold water against her skin before staring at her reflection in the mirror. The woman she saw looking back at her wasn't the same woman she'd grown used to seeing for the past two years. She didn't look strong and confident, determined and fulfilled. On that day, Mila saw herself looking like the shell of a human left behind with a screaming baby and an empty home. 
Had she been physically able to throw up again, Mila would have. Seeing herself looking so broken and beaten down made her angry, though she didn't have the energy to be as furious as she felt in her bones. One simple text message had managed to tear down two years of hard work and wreck something Mila had tried tirelessly to protect, her soul.