“But…?” Roman says. “Hiddenbutat the end of that sentence,” he clarifies when I don’t answer, the words faint. “You take care of each other, but…”
I sigh. “But we won’t always. They’re both in serious relationships.”
“Ah,” he says on an exhale. “I remember.” His lips twitch slightly, but his eyes remain closed, and he doesn’t move otherwise. “Jealous?”
I have to consider for a second to find the answer, because in truth, I don’t let myself think about it much. “Maybe,” I finally admit. “A little. I don’t know.”
They’re vulnerable words, but Roman is sick and half asleep anyway.
“My point was,” I say firmly, redirecting the conversation, “that you shouldn’t be embarrassed. Okay?”
He hums, then pulls up his t-shirt and sniffs it. “Ugh,” he mutters. “I reek.” He takes a deep, slow breath, and when he speaks again, he sounds sleepy. “Thanks for coming, Aurora.”
I startle when he says my name, because for maybe the first time, he’s using it in a normal voice. He’s not joking or teasing or flirting. He’s just…talking.
It sounds more intimate this way.
“Sorry you had to come see this,” he goes on. “Skip today. Come on Friday. I’ll be fine then.”
I glance around the living room, sympathy rising in my chest. It would kind of suck to be sick by yourself, shivering on the couch in the silence of your house.
Am I the only person who came to check on him? I really came to do my cleaning job, but I was hoping to find out where he’d been, too.
When my eyes fall on the cracked window, I hurry over and open it all the way. Then I move to the dining room and do the same, followed by the kitchen. The study doors are closed, so I leave them alone.
From the couch, I hear a tired voice. “What are you doing?” Roman says.
“Go back to sleep,” I tell him.
Another mumble, something I can’t interpret but which sounds like a protest.
“Fine,” I say with a laugh. “Do whatever you want, then.” A moment later, Roman hoists himself off the couch, a robe of blankets trailing behind him as he trudges past me.
He mutters something about going to bed, and I nod, waving him toward the stairs.
I turn my attention back to the rest of the house as he tromps out of sight. This place needs to be aired out completely. I leaveall the blinds open, because sunshine will only help, and then I return to the living room, staring at the couch. I contemplate for only a second.
It’s time to get to work.
When Roman returnsdownstairs an hour later, he looks significantly more human. His hair is clearly wet from the shower, and although he still appears weak, he’s definitely more lively. Based on the way he stares at me, he didn’t expect me to be here.
I didn’t expect it, either. What started as a brief moment of help turned into disinfecting, window-opening, and food preparation.
Who am I right now? I do this kind of thing for my sisters, but not for my former boss.
When Roman drifts into the kitchen, gaping, I speak.
“Eat this before it gets cold,” I tell him, pushing a steaming bowl of ramen to the edge of the counter.
And for a moment, he’s speechless. “Did you cook for me?” he finally says, his eyes still wide as they dart back and forth between me and the food.
“Boiling ramen is hardly cooking,” I say, trying to sound casual, because this isn’t a big deal. I don’t want him to read into it. “Now eat, please.”
He picks up the bowl and sets it gently on the table, but then he looks back at me. “Where is my couch?”
I glance over his shoulder into the living room. “It’s right there.”
“Only half of it is right there,” he counters.
