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“Eat,” I told her. Then, I headed to the bathroom to find what they’d given her.
My eyes locked on the hot-pink bra lying on the floor and the pair of black lace panties on top of the dirty clothes basket. I mentally scolded myself and shoved the images out of my head while I looked for her medication.
They were by the sink. The first one was some shit I couldn’t even pronounce, but I’d heard of it. I’d seen the CDC talking about it on the news. The other was for pain and fever. I took both of them with me back into the room.
Brielle was chewing, but her head was resting against the wall since she didn’t have an actual headboard, and her eyes were closed. She looked pale, and her breathing was shallow. She shouldn’t have been alone.
“When did you get sick?” I asked her, walking over to the bed to sit on the edge. I needed to keep her awake long enough to eat.
“Two days ago. I started feeling bad and figured it was the leftover Chinese food I’d taken for lunch. But it kept getting worse, and by the next morning, I was not okay,” she said.
I took the half-eaten cracker sandwich from her hand and held it up to her mouth. “Eat,” I said firmly. “Did you take your medicine today?” I asked then.
She nodded and took a bite without arguing. I reached over and got her water, then held it to her lips for her to take a drink. I repeated the process until she finished all of them. I took the extra pillows away and helped her ease back down onto the single pillow she’d been lying on earlier.
“Rest. I’ll handle everything else. Don’t get up without me. You could fall.”
She studied me, and I waited for her to say something. When she didn’t, I turned and headed for the door.
“Dean?”
I looked back at her. “Yeah?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You need help,” I replied, then left her to rest.
Telling her that seeing her sick like this scared the shit out of me wasn’t going to help our situation. I was human, so I should be concerned for her, but it was more than that. And I didn’t have the correct words to explain it when I didn’t understand what it was myself. I just didn’t want her to be sick.
fourteen
brielle
My eyes opened slowly, and I expected the pounding of my head to greet me along with the pain in my chest from the endless coughing. When I felt neither, I glanced around, then decided to slowly attempt sitting up. I managed it, and still, nothing. I wasn’t even nauseous.
I looked over at my phone, and the time said it was eight in the morning.
I had slept all night. I hadn’t woken up with coughing spasms.
Pushing back the covers, I stood up and started to walk to the bathroom to relieve myself when my eyes landed on Dean. He was under a quilt from the closet, and his head was on one of the sham-covered pillows I put on my bed when it was made up. He looked exhausted.
How is he sleeping on the hard floor? And why?
Last night, he had slept on the expensive sofa. I knew it was much more comfortable.
I moved quietly into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.
If he hadn’t shown up when he did, I didn’t know what I’d have done. He had bought me groceries and kept me fed. He had made sure I had my meds at the right time. It was impossible to dehydrate with him constantly bringing me Gatorade or water. There was one point when my fever had gotten so high that I was sure that him being here was a hallucination.
Walking over to the shower, I turned it on and waited until the water was warm before taking off my clothes and stepping into the stream. The water felt wonderful. The past few days, I hadn’t been able to stand for long, much less get a shower. I stepped back once and sat down on the small built-in bench. If the water would stay warm without eventually running cold, I could stay in here all day.
There were so many things I needed to do today. Calling and checking in with Cam was the first thing.
I’d gotten a couple of texts from him, and I could only respond that I wasn’t feeling well and would call him once I was better. Clara called me once, and I wasn’t able to answer—my head was pounding. She texted next, and I managed to update her on my condition. I hadn’t told her Dean was here with me though. She’d read too much into that. Heck, I was reading too much into it. At least in my dreams, I had. He’d kept showing up.
When I’d had moments of clarity, I’d convinced myself that he was being a friend, although the idea of Dean Finlay being my friend was so odd. Adjusting to the fact that my landlord was famous had been difficult enough to wrap my head around. Him taking care of me while I had COVID was so unexpected.
Standing back up, I began the process of bathing myself and washing my hair. My legs needed shaving, as did other parts, so I took my time in doing it all. I didn’t want to overdo it and end up back in bed again today. I knew there were bills in the mailbox, waiting on me. My electricity, car payment, and water bills were all due to arrive this week. The more I thought of all I needed to do, the more stressed I felt myself getting.
