We didn't speak of the incident in the bathroom. It was better off that way, I figured, but I knew Dimitri hadn't let go of the situation. He just waited for the right moment.

I managed convincing myself that I had the flu of some sorts, but after staying at home instead of working in two days time, I realized it wasn't the flu. I only threw up in the morning. Other than that, the day flew by without more unwelcome visits in the bathroom.

As the restless soul I am I quickly got tired of soap opera shows and re-runs of old ANTM, and there weren't much else to do in our apartment. I wasn't the person who enjoyed being in the kitchen and every smell of food made my stomach twist.

Dimitri didn't mention what had happened in the bathroom, but I could see his looks whenever I left the bathroom. He would watch me with concern, his brown eyes puzzled. I never dared look him in the eye. What if he began talking about it?

He'd eventually leave for the gym or guard-duties and I would curl up in our bed, wishing for this illness to end. But after being sick for a week, I wondered if I ever would get healthy again.

I felt as if I were in a lockdown. Lissa didn't have the time to come to me, and Dimitri wanted me in here if things got worse. Christian didn't really visit since I was sick and Mia was busier than ever, being one of the instructors in the self-defence classes that had sprung to life during the summer.

The apartment had never been this boring. All I did was lying in the queen-size bed, taking turns with walking to the kitchen, opening a box with grapes, then running to the bathroom to throw up whatever I might have gotten down there.

It wasn't until I was about to shower later that day I realized how much weight I had lost during a couple of weeks. I felt weak, had all week to be honest, and just undressing made me tremble like a leaf.

It had to be several kilos. Mirrors didn't lie, and my face was sunken, my hair had lost its shine. It had an ordinary brown colour now, the shades of black were no where to be found. My breasts didn't even fill the bra, which never happened.

As I stood, watching my own reflection, Dimitri arrived. Why was I always in different compromising situations that all involved me being in the bathroom when he got home? I quickly jumped in the shower and pulled the shower curtain to cover me.

The warm water was so hot it made my skin red, but I barely noticed. I was too concentrated on listening if Dimitri would be entering the bathroom. I didn't want him to see me like this. Not this weak, this thin … I was kind of disgusted by my own body but there was nothing I could do about it.

I leaned on the blue clinker as the water drenched my from top to bottom. Standing up made me nauseous – not the Strigoi-nausea though – I felt weaker than ever. My legs were shaking. I doubted I'd make it to the bed without falling, so perhaps it was a good thing Dimitri had come home.

Or not. I reminded myself that I didn't want him seeing my like this, not sick or weak. He would worry about my loss of weight. Worry much, because it was his nature. I loved that about him – I loved him so much – but he wasn't suppose to worry about me.

I was, however, interrupted in my monologue as my stomach made what felt like a back flick and I had to throw myself out of the shower to reach the toilet in time.

"Rose? Are you okay?" Dimitri's knock on the door didn't interrupt me throwing up my guts.

I felt so horribly disgusting when he entered the room, only covering myself with a towel. I had flushed the toilet so he didn't have to see that.

Dimitri only took one look at me before scooping me up in his arms. He made it seem so simple, like my weight was nothing. Clearly, he too was surprised of my weight. "Roza." He eyed my with that concerned look again, and I couldn't look away. There were nothing else to look on. "You lost weight."

I nodded. "I'm sick."

"I don't think you are", he contradicted, carrying me to our bed. There he laid me as comfortably he could, before sitting down next to me. "I really do think you are pregnant."

"Don't … don't go there. You know it's not true." I pleaded. This wasn't happening – we weren't having this discussion. We couldn't.

"When Karolina was pregnant with Paul, she threw up all the time. She lost weight. I even talked to her about it last week."

At that moment, I felt completely numb. He had talked to her sister about all of this. Had he mentioned he thought I was pregnant? I don't know. He talked to his family about everything, but also kept our secrets.

"But she was pregnant with a moroi, which I'm not." I gave him a stern look, as stern as I could make it, but he didn't argue about it. He just met my eye with a look of sadness and perhaps a bit … hurt. Then I realized. "You- You don't think I cheated on you, do you?"

Only .. He did.