I pause on the sidewalk, pulling Reed to a halt, and take a big sniff of the incredible smelling food.
“Oh God, that smells so good.”
“You cannot still be hungry,” he laughs. “You told me when we left the restaurant that you weren’t eating another thing until morning.”
“Dessert is a different stomach,” I mutter. “Plus, have you smelt it, Reed? Tell me you don’t want to try it.” He shakes his head at me, chuckling.
“What even is it?” he mumbles.
“Pineapple fritters.” The vendor responds cheerfully.
Reed and I look at each other, and then simultaneously tell the guy we’ll take two.
Reed
Something wakes me, a nagging feeling that something is wrong. I sit up in bed and catch sight of Bella darting into the bathroom before the door is slammed shut and the sound of her unloading the contents of her stomach makes its way through the closed door.
Fuck.
I’m up and out of bed within seconds. I push my way into the bathroom and kneel at her side, scooping her hair out of the way and holding it back. My other hand strokes soothingly down her spine as she violently heaves into the toilet.
“Reed,” she gasps in between bouts of sickness. “Go — please, I don’t want you to see this.” It’s all she manages before her body is viciously ill again.
“If you think I’m leaving you like this, you don’t know me very well. Tell me what it is, baby. Do you have a temperature? Does it hurt anywhere? Fuck, baby girl, what’s wrong?” I’m spiraling. I am fully aware that I am spiraling. But the woman I love is ill, and there is nothing I can do to stop this.
“Crab cakes,” she mutters. “It must have been the crab cakes.”
I’m going to get that fucking place shut down.
She’s stopped vomiting for the time being, so I flush the toilet and move to the sink and run her washcloth under cold water. Returning to her, I hold it against her forehead and she moans her approval.
My dick doesn’t even twitch. Her moans are normally a sound that gets me hard in seconds, but my cock seems to be as worried about her as I am.
“Let me call the doctor for you,” I say.
“No,” she rasps. “It’s food poisoning. They can’t do anything. It’s just got to run its course.” As she says this, another round of sickness takes over.
Fuck, this is going to kill me seeing her like this.
Bella eventually feels well enough to go back to bed, so I sit her on the counter by the sink and give her teeth a quick clean, something she tried to insist on doing herself, but I wouldn’t hear of it. She’s not lifting a finger, not anytime soon.
Once I’ve finished, I scoop her into my arms and carry her to our bed, laying her down on my side of the mattress and scooting in behind her.
“Do you think you can sit forward for me? Just for a moment?” I ask her.
She shifts, propping herself up, her legs stretched out in front of her and between mine. I gently run my fingers through her hair, separating the strands and begin to braid it.
“Do I even want to know where you learnt to braid a woman’s hair?”
I chuckle at her question. “I have nieces, remember?”
“Oh. You must be rather involved with them if you braid their hair. I can’t really picture you as Uncle Reed.”
“I’m the cool Uncle; they like to stay with me sometimes, plus it gives their mom and dad a break. They like their hair braided for bed.”
“I’d like to meet them one day,” she sleepily mumbles as I pull her back into my chest, wrapping my arms around her.
“Next time they come round, you’ll be there too. You’ll always be there. I’m moving you in with me. No more nights apart.” She doesn’t hear me, though, she’s already fallen asleep in my arms — exactly where she belongs.
