Page 338 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

And yet, she felt cold.

Funny how that worked.

“Being sick sucks,” she whispered.

“I think maybe we should make another trip—”

“No, I don’t want to go to the hospital again. They’ll make me wear a mask while I wait, and there’s always a whole roomful of people staring at me. I hate it.”

And she did.

So fucking much.

No, Siena would just sit in her bed, fever and cough whatever this hell was out, and deal with it that way. All they would do at the hospital was shove more medications down her throat that wouldn’t help and send her home to battle her sickness alone.

Why bother?

“Siena—”

John didn’t even get to finish his statement before she started coughing. This time, the hacking fit didn’t stop in a few seconds. After a half of a minute, John helped to sit her up in the bed while he reached for the glass of water—who knew how long that had been sitting there—on the bedside table to get her to drink.

Except she couldn’t stop coughing to drink.

Wonderful.

Her husband had also had enough, it seemed.

“That’s it,” John muttered, “you’re going to the fucking hospital.”

Siena couldn’t refuse again.

She was still coughing her guts out.