“Come on, you can do this.” Tensing my abdomen, I gripped the quilt for leverage and tried again, sliding one leg over the side of the bed, then the other. Being upright for the first time brought on a wave of dizziness, and I paused, waiting for it to pass.
Knees trembling, I inched forward and touched my bare toes to the carpet, congratulating myself on the victory, however minor.
One task at a time. That was all I needed to focus on—and all I was capable of handling.
I sat up straighter and stared at the beige wall opposite. A virus had raged through my body and left a human-shaped shell behind, but I’d made it. I was still here.
My eyes welled with tears, and another sob broke from my throat.
It was all the motivation I needed to keep going.
I stood on shaky legs and set my sights on the bedroom door. Ten steps, and I could cling to the frame while I recovered.
Just let me find Theo, safe and well. That’s all I want.
As if I’d summoned him, he appeared in the open doorway, eyes widening for a split second before he scanned me from head to toe. “Hey,” he said. “You’re up.”
My stomach flipped, and I leaned against the bed for support, examining him to make sure he was real and not anotherhallucination. With his toffee hair in its usual tousled state, and his jaw covered in longer scruff than I’d ever seen on him, he appeared a slightly more worn version of the man I knew.
The relief that raced through me left me lightheaded.
“Barely,” I said, struggling to speak. “My legs aren’t doing what they’re supposed to do.”
He crossed the room in a few steps, appearing unfazed by the information. “You’ve hardly eaten a thing since you got sick,” he said, “and you’ve been in a fever haze for five days.”
I stared up at him as he clasped my elbows. “Fivedays,” I said. Where did that time go? I had no memories after the first night. “Are you serious?”
He nodded slowly and eased me into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “You were in and out of consciousness and a rambling mess for the short times you were awake. Sharing declarations of love. That type of thing.”
His eyes glimmered with gentle humour, his expression so soft and affectionate, I could barely focus on the words leaving his mouth.
“I was so sick, I thought there was no way I’d live through it.”
He looked me over again as if to convince himself I was awake and talking. “The fever didn’t get you, so I think you’re safe.”
“Areyoufeeling all right?” I searched his features, but nothing triggered any concern.
“All good,” he said. “Looks like I’m immune.”
The wave of gratitude that rolled through me eclipsed every other thought. “I’m so happy I didn’t—wait, what did you mean about declarations of love?”
“Forget it.” He lowered himself to the spot beside me, his knee resting against mine. “It’ll only make your face catch fire again.”
Oh, God. I had vague recollections of mumbling during the worst of my fever. My cheeks warmed, and I closed my eyes toget a hold of myself. “I’m not responsible for what I said when my brain was fried.”
He didn’t tease me any further, and I appreciated his restraint. “I’m glad you made it,” he said. “It would have sucked if you’d died.”
I opened my eyes and tried to answer, but the words got stuck in my throat.
He’d tended to my every need for almost a week while Ultimus attacked my body, putting himself at risk, potentially losing the chance to see his family again. It was only pure luck he hadn’t caught the virus himself—and he was still here, caring for me, putting my mind at ease. Making me feel safe.
With a rush of emotion, I half turned toward him and slipped my arms around his waist, holding on as tightly as my depleted strength allowed.
“What’s this for?”Theo embraced my shoulders and pulled me against him, keeping me steady.
He smelled clean and warm and appealing, and I was the opposite in every way. “I wouldn’t have made it this far if you weren’t with me,” I said with an ache in my throat. “You kept me alive.”
He slipped one of his hands under my greasy hair and squeezed the back of my neck. “It was the right thing to do.”
