Chapter 5: Mason
I was two weeks into my new job when the illness hit.
In the beginning, it wasn’t so bad. I would spend a few minutes hunched over the toilet, then forget about it and go on with the rest of my day. I didn’t want Jericho knowing I was sick, so I kept it as quiet as possible. He didn’t notice. I just assumed it was related to my pregnancy, like morning sickness or something, and would go away in time. I could bear with it until then.
But that was before the pain exploded.
This time, I woke from a deep sleep in a sweat. Stabbing pain wracked my whole body like a sword was being driven through my stomach. I knew I would be late for work, but I couldn’t move. I collapsed on the floor, halfway from the bed as I attempted to crawl to the bathroom.
I cried out. A moment later Jericho’s footsteps hurried up the stairs and he burst into the bedroom, eyes wide in shock.
“Mason?” he asked, panic across his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything hurts,” I whimpered, curling into myself. I could barely speak.
He put a hand on my back and rubbed in soothing circles. “Come on. I’ll carry you to the bathroom.”
He gently scooped me up and laid me down in a kneeling position in the bathroom a moment later. Nausea and pain wracked my body. I doubled over the toilet and spilled my guts. Jericho stayed with me the whole time, holding back my hair and rubbing my lower back soothingly. When I finally felt like I couldn’t empty my stomach anymore, I leaned back. Jericho already had a wet paper towel ready, and he wiped the corners of my mouth. He was frowning and his expression was etched with concern.
“Do you feel better?” he asked.
I leaned, dizzy, on the side of the tub. Sweat rolled down my temple. “I don’t know,” I said, breathless. “I think so. I don’t think... I’m going to throw up again. Not soon, anyway.”
Jericho reached out to hold my hand. Then I realized he had been touching me this whole time, and that Ididn’thate it.
Although I didn’t have much time to dwell on that though before another sudden wave of nausea hit me and I doubled over the toilet again.
“Okay,” I said, leaning back after it was done and wiping my mouth off again. “That was for sure the last time.”
“Take your time,” Jericho said. His thumb rubbed the back of my hand.
“I’m going to be late for work,” I groaned.
He frowned. “I don’t think you should go in today. You look awful. No offense.”
“Ifeelawful,” I mumbled. “But I can’t just leave them…”
I thought about all the families and single shifters in need of a meal. In the past two weeks, my work had become a passion. Not being able to show up for my shift made me incredibly upset.
“Look,” he said. “You can’t help anyone if you don’t help yourself first.”
“But - “
“No buts. Look, you’re totally pale and sweating buckets. You’re not going anywhere today,” he said firmly.
I wanted to argue, but a wave of exhaustion hit me and I sighed. “I know you’re right,” I mumbled. “It just sucks admitting I can’t do the things I want to right now.”
“I know,” he soothed. “Soon you’ll be back on your feet before you know it. Besides, the morning sickness is actually a good thing.”
I raised a brow and half-glared at him. What part of throwing up and feeling generally like shit was good? “Really?”
He smiled. “It just means your pup is growing.”
My face softened. “I guess you’re right about that, too. Again.”
My pup - they were the entire reason I was going through all of this. If I didn’t have a pup to worry about, I never would’ve gone with Jericho and let myself live with him. I probably would’ve ran and ran, and ended up some place completely different. I wondered what kind of life I would be living right now if I hadn’t gotten caught in that trap...
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
