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"As I learned with the first dose when I fell asleep right on my couch because I couldn't even make it to the bedroom, yes."
"Well, I vow I won't let you drown in your soup."
I chuckle. "What a gentleman."
He smiles and turns back to the TV. I eat the soup I can't taste at all, sitting next to a man I feel far too much for. How fucked up is that? I do manage to finish the bowl before my head starts to feel like it weighs a hundred pounds. When it lolls for the second time, Jackson reaches over and takes the bowl from me. Through heavy-lidded eyes, I watch him put the bowl on the nightstand before he's moving me to a lying down position. He lifts my head, puts a pillow under it, and pulls the blanket over me.
"No, no," he murmurs, seemingly more to himself than me. "She has a fever already."
He takes the blanket back off of me, and I smile to myself as I finally lose my fight with sleep and my eyes slip closed. When I next wake up, I'm warm, but I know it has nothing to do with my illness, and everything to do with the man lying beside me.He faces me this time, his forehead mere inches from mine, his arm wrapped around my waist, leg thrown over mine. The light from the almost silent TV plays across his face as I watch him. I feel him everywhere that our bodies touch, and his soft breaths against my cheek. My body is trying to memorize us tangled up in each other like we are right now, reveling in our physical connection in the best and worst way.
Move away.My mind insists.
Move closer.My heart encourages me.
I do the stupid thing. I listen to my heart. Wiggling my body, I inch closer to him until my face is slightly under his, his chin now on my forehead, and my arm coming up to his middle. I breathe him in, foolishly letting it settle a heart that I know I shouldn't be letting reach for him, grasp him, hold him tight. I am only opening the wound further, inflicting my pain upon myself. But I tell myself I deserve this moment, to tell him a goodbye he'll never actually know I said to him. To say how I feel, even if he can't actually hear it.
So, taking a deep breath, I hold him a little tighter and speak. Nothing more than a whisper, so low I can barely hear myself. But the pain, the agony in my voice is clear.
"I've fallen for you. I don't exactly know when or how. I don't know how I could have stopped it, or if I even could have stopped it, but I fell. Knowing it could only lead to heartbreak, knowing it would cause me all the pain I'm feeling right now, I fell. I know I was stupid to let it happen. That I only have myself to blame for the hurt rushing through me as I lie here. I never want to leave your arms. Never want the memory of your kiss to fade. Never want you to look at me without that smile that I've learned is just for me. So many nevers, Jackson."
A shuddering breath leaves me. "I never thought I could love someone the way I love you. I never thought anyone could understand me the way you do, make me feel so safe and secure. I never thought I would find someone that I never wanted to be without. I did, and it hurts like nothing else to know I found you and can't have you. So I'll say it only one time. Let the words pour from my heart, past my lips, and fall upon your deaf ears."
I back up some, look at his eyes because the coward in me has to ensure they're still closed before I give voice to my feelings. Say words I've never said to any man. Say words that hurt me to feel and will cut me to utter.
"I love you, Jackson. I love you with everything I have and am. And because I love you..." Another shuddering, shaky breath leaves me. "I will lose you."
I put my head back where it was, savoring the touch of his chin against my forehead, the warmth of his arm around me, and ignore the tear running down my face, turning cold as it hits the sheet under my cheek. Closing my eyes again, I resolve to spend my last night in Jackson's arms.
When I wake up again, I'm alone. I should have known. Last night was more than I expected and thinking he would be here this morning was more than I should have wanted. I look toward the TV, seeing the time at the bottom of the screen playing the morning news. Already eight in the morning. I fall back to the pillow, ignoring the ache in my heart enough to realize the rest of me feels better. I can swallow for the first time in days, my body no longer feels like it was hit by a Mack truck, and my head isn't pounding. But I am definitely still not going to work today.
I sit up a little to reach for my phone to call HR, but pause when I hear footsteps coming toward my bedroom. By the time I lookthrough my open doorway, Jackson is coming through, a plate in one hand and mug in the other.
"You're here," I exclaim.
His brows draw down with his smile. "Of course, I am. Did you think I'd just left you in the middle of the night?"
I was both dreading and hoping that he had. Dreading that he'd heard my whispered words and gotten up to avoid having to actually talk about them with me, or that he'd just woken up and felt holding me in his arms twice was too many times. But another part of me was hoping that he had left so that I wouldn't have to feel like I do right now. Like I want to beg him never to go. Like seeing him is too much for me to take.
"I just assumed you had somewhere else to be," I settle on saying.
He tilts his head. "Is that your way of trying to get rid of me?"
I should say yes, say something, anything to get him to go. Put an end to my own suffering. But I don't, can't really.
"Not at all. Just saying... if you have somewhere more important to be, then I don't want you to feel like you have to stay here."
"I'm right where I want to be."
"Okay," I say low, hating the excitement that rushes through me.
"Now, I've got some pancakes, turkey bacon, and orange slices, clearly for the vitamin C."
"Clearly," I tease.
"I'll have you know my mother would pump Law full of orange juice any time he even seemed like he was coming down with something."
I narrow my eyes at him. "But just Law, right? Since you don't get sick."
