If Ever(108)

She doesn't fight me, and honestly, I'm not even sure she's aware I'm here, but her breathing slows, which must be a good sign. I place a fresh cloth on her forehead hoping this will help lower her temperature.

When I heard a bad flu was going around, I had no idea. The last time I fell sick with the flu I was a teenager. I lean forward and brush her hair away from her neck and shoulders. I whisper in her ear. "I love you, Chelsea, from the first day I set eyes on you." She doesn't argue, so I'll call it a victory.





43





My head is entrenched in a thick fog. I seem to ping pong from freezing cold, to so hot I'm sweating the sheets. Once in a while I hear the soft strumming of a guitar. It's beautiful and soothing, but it's too hard to pry open my eyes. I don't remember ever feeling this miserable, so I let myself spiral back down to sleep.

The next time I wake I'm shivering again, I open my eyes enough to see that it's day. I tug at the covers.

Suddenly hands are tucking the blankets closer around me. "There you go." I hear Tom's voice.

I turn my head and he's at my side, gazing at me with the sweetest concern. I take a second and look around to get my bearings. "You shouldn't be here," I whisper, my voice hoarse.

"Hi, there." He smiles and looks so perfect and happy. I turn away, my eyes fill with tears.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He tilts my face back to his.

Everything. He left with Barbie. I don't really know him, and I'm so sick, I can't think straight. I try to roll away, but I'm helpless in his gentle hold as tears roll down my cheeks.

"Please, don't cry, love. It's going to be all right."

"You left with her and didn't come back," I choke.

His eyes cloud. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. We had something serious that we had to discuss and I promise to tell you everything when you're feeling better. All that is ancient history."

"But I thought."

"I know. But I don't want Barbie. Not now, not ever. I want you."

And seeing the sincerity in his sky blue eyes is such relief that the floodgates open and I bury my face in the pillow to muffle my gulping sobs.

"What's wrong?" He pulls me close.

"I thought we were over," I cry.

"Why would you think that? It was one misunderstanding. That's all." He says with disbelief.

"I thought you wanted her. You walked out. You left me. I was alone and you didn't come back or even call."

"Oh, baby. My phone died and I had a last minute call because a director wanted to see me again." He kisses my forehead and cradles me in his arms. The touch of his chest is solid and warm and everything I need.

I nestle my head under his chin and place my hand on his heart, letting the heat of his body warm away my chills. My tears soak his shirt, but he doesn't seem to mind. I heave one skittering breath after another as he gently rubs my back. And suddenly I realize how much he's risking his own health.

"You shouldn't be here, you're going to get sick." I try to edge out of his embrace, but he won't release me.

He lightly runs his hand along my forehead down to my jaw and gazes at me with such affection I wonder how I could have ever doubted him. "If I get sick, then I get to spend more time with you." He snuggles me closer.

"I wouldn't wish feeling like this on my worst enemy." I tuck my arms against his chest for warmth.

"Do you want something to eat?"

I nod. "But can we stay like this for a while?"

He kisses my forehead. "Absolutely, but first you need to take more medicine. I picked up some flu meds that are good for fever, aches and pains."

I know I need it. My whole body aches, but the idea of moving away from him sounds like too much work. He reaches for the pills and water glass. I force them down, my throat still burns. "I'm so cold."

"Come here." He scoots down and raises the covers.

Shivering, I attach myself to him like a barnacle. Even sick, I can tell he smells of coffee and deodorant. "You look so good. I feel like death warmed over."

"And you look it too." His chest rumbles with humor, as he rubs my back.

I'd like to swat him, but it would take too much energy. And the mesmerizing way he rubs my back, bringing warmth to me, relaxes my muscles to the point I can't keep my eyes open another second.





When I wake up, Tom is gone and the bed feels lonely. I'm not cold anymore. Sitting up, I slide my legs over the side of the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" He appears in the doorway, arms crossed.

"The bathroom."

"Oh." He steps aside.

"And to take a shower. I can't stand myself anymore." I get to my feet and sway, a little dizzy.

He reaches for my arm. "Let me help."

"I've got this." I step forward, holding onto the wall for balance.

Tom frowns as I close the bathroom door.

I wash my hair twice and scrub myself clean. The warm water sluicing over my skin is heaven, but I have to lean against the shower wall for support.

"I left you some clothes to change into."

"Thank you. You can go now."