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“I will make you some soup. It’s not going to be as good as you expect,” he said, laughing at himself.
I nodded with a lazy smile as he left to make the soup. He returned a few minutes later with a hot soup.
The soup was awful. It was tasteless and looked like he’d just boiled some garlic, cloves, and mushrooms. I forced myself to finish it even if it burned my tongue. I returned the empty plate and thanked him.
“I will take you to your room,” he told me after he returned from the kitchen.
He held my arm as we climbed the stairs. The pain in my head wasn’t as bad as before. He pulled the comforter up to my neck after I lay on the queen bed. He touched my forehead again. I flinched due to his terrifyingly cool touch.
“You are still hot.” His voice was wrapped in sorrow.
He left and returned with a small towel soaked in cold water. He gently rubbed my face and my arms and placed the towel on my forehead.
“He never wanted this. That’s all I want you to know,” Adrian whispered.
“He destroyed my life. He ruined everything for me. I don’t care if he gets run over by a car.”
He just stared at me after I was done talking.
“I will be back to check on you.”
I closed my eyes and went to sleep instantly.
The soundof the door opening woke me up. My eyes squinted at the sunrays from outside.What time is it?
“Hey.” I heard from behind me.
I turned to look at Adrian. He was holding a tray filled with French toast, blueberry jam, bacon, and my favorite coffee. I could tell they were takeout from the logo on the Styrofoam cup and I knew Adrian couldn’t cook anything.
“Hi.” I sat up slowly and rested my back on the headboard.
“How are you feeling?”
“Much better than last night,” I said and sighed in relief. I moved my messy hair back to see clearly.
He dropped the tray in front of me and placed the back of his palm on my forehead.
“I’m fine now, Adrian,” I said when he pulled his hand away.
“What about your head?” he asked with a scrutinizing stare, like he could catch any lie that left my lips.
“I don’t feel any pain.” Except the pain in my heart that wouldn’t stop.
“I will get you some painkillers just in case.”
“Okay,” I mumbled.
He smiled at me and left.
He returned with a small bottle. He dropped it on the nightstand and sat next to me on the bed. His tousled hair needed some brushing. His black hoodie matched the mood on his face. I saw the bags underneath his eyes. Had he gotten any sleep last night?
He’d stayed up, taking care of me while dealing with the truth behind his relationship with Karen. No matter how many smiles he wore, I knew underneath, he was bleeding and hurting.
“Have you eaten?” I asked, adding jam to the French toast.
“I had coffee.”
“Just coffee? Eat this.” I forced the French toast with jam into his hand. “I have enough,” I said quickly when he opened his mouth to reject it.
