Bradley

Fucking doctors. Can’t diagnose shit and I’m still paying out the ass.

Bradley tried to hide it behind crossed arms and a half-zipped coat, but he was so bloated and sore he could barely keep his shirt tucked in. On the medications he was on, some water retention was expected, but that didn’t explain the gas and aching in his stomach.

It better not be a fucking ulcer.

He was working too many shifts, covering too much time. In reality, they could probably use another 3 staff members covering shifts. But he’d keep suffering through it to avoid any further complications. As long as he didn’t have to work at night, he’d keep suffering in relative silence.

The gurgling in his stomach derailed his train of thought. Somehow, through the pain and bloating, he was still ravenous.

People would notice if he just ate a handful of cheese. Daisy hadn’t arrived yet, but friggin’ Hayden would notice. He saw everything.

The little shit.

Instead, he set the oven to preheat.

“I’m getting the oven started for Daisy,” Bradley called across the store to Hayden. “Do you want anything?”

“No thanks, I don’t have any cash on me,” the boy said, smiling weakly.

“It’s free, Hayden,” Bradley grumbled back. “The hell did you think I meant?”

“Well, it’s usually half off…so that I guess?”

I’m dying, this prick is going to kill me.

His doctor told him to let anger wash away rather than over him, that it was better for his blood pressure.

“Well, I’m treating you. Want some garlic fingers?”

“Oh, yes, please!”

Good, now I have an excuse to make that too.

He buttered up a large shell and tossed an excessive amount of mozzarella on top.

Then he set out making his actual meal.

He took a medium pizza shell and spread a helping of zesty tomato sauce on one side of it, leaving the rest of the dough bare. He added spicy pepperoni and cheese, then folded the other half over the top, crimping the edges with a fork before poking holes in the top. His mouth was already watering from the smell of meat and cheese. The blast of heat from the oven pulled him from his culinary trance and back to reality. He was stealing a pizza from his employer and using a cooking technique he learned from the boy he was trying to hunt down. Besides, the crust was a poor match for it. A bit too thick to stretch, and the thick edges never quite cooked through, but he found a quick-and-dirty pizza bender was easier to handle on the go.

It was also easier to pretend you weren’t eating a whole pizza by yourself.

When Daisy arrived, he’d retreat to the office and gorge himself in private. He could make a big show of taking the empty boxes home with him for later.

But was anyone buying that?

He didn’t do the show for them, not really. The only opinion that mattered was Sophie’s, and she sure as fuck didn’t care how fat he got. He was doing it for himself, and one of these days he’d get it under control. Some day, he’d look in the mirror and see the man he felt he could be.

A sharp pain in his side nearly had him doubled over.

He had to book another doctor’s appointment. It couldn’t be normal.

Just a little longer. I just need to keep it together for a bit longer.

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