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I knew Nathan wanted to take care of me all day, but I was glad that he didn’t. I didn’t want him to see me huddled over the toilet puking my guts out. I still felt nauseated as hell, I was exhausted, and I couldn’t get comfortable in my own body. One minute, I was freezing cold, and the next minute, I was burning alive. I had taken my temperature, and it wasn’t much more than normal, which shocked me since I was totally expecting to be sporting a pretty bad fever with whatever viral plague had entered my body. All I wanted to do was sleep, but my stomach was so upset that it wouldn’t let me rest for even a couple of minutes.
Just as I calmed my mind down from all the sick thoughts, I heard the door open and shut. Nathan walked around the corner carrying a bouquet of flowers and a case of ginger ale. The man knew exactly how to get to my heart. I smiled and gave him my cheek as he leaned over to kiss me.
“You feel warm,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the table.
“I took my temperature twenty minutes ago, and I only have a slight fever,” I said.
“Well, I came over to help take care of you and to make sure that you were doing okay,” he said. “I have been worried about you all day. I’m glad to see you got out of bed and made your way to the couch.”
“I had to have a change of scenery,” I said. “I was staring at the fan going around and around, and it was only making me feel worse.”
“Can I get you anything?” he asked, standing up. “I’m going to go put these flowers in water and put your soda in the fridge.”
“No, I’m okay,” I said. “I am trying to get that water down before I drink any more soda.”
“Good,” he said, smiling. “I’ll be right back.”
Nathan was
extremely worried about me, and although it made me feel bad for him, I appreciated that he was there to look out for me. He was showing me just how good of a husband he was going to be. I had been thinking about his marriage proposal all day, and normally, all that time would have changed my mind, but not with Nathan. I knew that I wanted to marry him and to spend our time together living life. I finally knew what Lindsey felt when she met Jordan. I was pretty sure she would have married him after a week if he had asked her.
“So, I was thinking,” I said as he walked back in. “We should just get married at the courthouse. You can tell me if you feel differently, but I really don’t want a big wedding. I always thought they were so overblown and ridiculous. We are getting married because we love each other, and I want it to be about us.”
“I think that is a fantastic idea,” he said, smiling. “I don’t want a big wedding, either, though I would do it if it was important to you.”
“It’s not,” I said. “What’s important to me is being with you.”
“Me too,” he replied, kissing my forehead. “I don’t think anyone else really understands our relationship anyway. I don’t want people there that have doubts in their mind. It takes away from what the real purpose of all of it is.”
“I agree, though I haven’t told anyone yet,” I said. “I’ve been dying on the couch.”
“You are so cute when you get melodramatic,” he said, laughing.
“Wait fifty years, and see if you still feel that way.” I laughed.
“I will feel that way five hundred years from now,” he replied. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” I said. “I would go to the courthouse with you tonight and get married.”
“I would do it right here and right now if we could,” he said.
“We should,” I replied, pulling myself up. “We should get me dressed and just go do it now. I want to be married to you.”
“As much as I love your enthusiasm and feel the same way, I think that we should wait until you are feeling a bit better,” he said with a kind smile. “We don’t want you puking on the Justice of the Peace in the middle of the ceremony or anything.”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing my belly. “And sadly, that would be a real possibility.”
“That might put a damper on our plans.” He chuckled. “I don’t want our marriage license to smell like puke and plague.”
“Me neither.” I sighed, laying back down.
As much as I wanted to fight him on that point, I knew he was right. I could barely make it to the kitchen, much less get dressed and get married. I knew that I could be patient. He wasn’t going anywhere, and neither were our feelings for each other.
“I want you to make me a promise,” he said. “If you aren’t feeling better by Monday, I want you to go to the doctor. I’m serious. If nothing else, you could be getting way too dehydrated, and that will make you sick in itself.”
“I promise,” I said. “I don’t want to keep feeling like this. It’s absolutely miserable.”
“I know,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Sorry, hold on for one second. What’s up, John?”
