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Chapter Fourteen
Moira
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IWAKE SOMETIME LATER, convinced Hendrix coming was all a fever dream, the sheets tangled and soaked around me. My mouth is dry and tastes disgusting, but my head is a little clearer, my body a little less achy.
I'm out of breath by the time I escape from the clinging grip of the blankets. Maybe I'm not that much better. Determined to try, I rest on the side of the bed for a moment, catching my breath before attempting to stand.
And I do fine. I make it all the way into my bathroom, where I'm able to freshen up and actually put on more clothes beneath my robe.
But by the time I'm finished, my body is shaking and I barely make it back to the bed in time to perch on the edge.
A soft knock sounds on the door and Ryder pokes his head in. "Are you all right in there?"
"I'm fine." The words come out croaked and broken.
I clear my throat and tighten the robe around me.
"Can I come in, please?" Ryder asks.
"Yeah."
He winces when he gets closer in the dim room and can see me better. “Damn. This has really hit you hard, hasn't it?"
I try not to take it personally. “Yes. I don't understand how this happened."
"Tons of parents get sick when their kids first start school. And you've had a ton of kids come into your studio. The first month I started teaching, I ended up having to take a week off because of how sick I got."
I gape at him. “Children did this to me? My own child did?"
Ryder chuckles as he helps me finish securing the robe around me properly, his scent making me want to bury my face in his neck. "All those kids in close quarters, that's a lot of germs. And your immune system isn't trained to handle it yet. This will probably be the worst one until the flu starts going around this winter."
"Great."
Ryder pats my shoulder. “It'll get easier every year as your body gets used to it. I hardly ever get sick now."
