Page 7 of Soldier Daddy’s Naughty Little

“Hello, Baby. Been trying to reach you since. Have you been avoiding me?”

There was brief silence from her end. “What do you mean by have I been avoiding you. You were the one ignoring my calls all night.”

There was this edginess to her voice, bordering on bratty, that just rubbed me the wrong way. I was not exactly angry, just irritated.

“At least, I’m calling back now, am I not? I’m even letting your leaving my messages not replied slide.”

A blonde beauty in a leopard print leotard called out to me as she passed my side. “Hey there, Sexy.”

“Oh, sorry. Sounds like you’re rather busy. Didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said pointedly and hurriedly ended the call.

I just stared at the phone in confusion. Why's she acting like this? Making me out to look and feel like the bad guy. I knew something was wrong but I had no idea it was this bad.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Vanessa

I rolled from one edge of my bed to the other, feeling shitty as fuck. I never felt so low and foolish in my life. I felt even worse cause it was all my fault. I had been feeling really sick all week but I had been dragging myself to work regardless.

My productivity was ever at its lowest and it was a pain just showing up everyday. My legs felt so heavy and I could not keep down anything I ate. As a result, I felt so weak, so tired, and it was a pain getting out each day.

I decided to call in sick for work, as I could not even get up to make myself something to eat. I fell into an uneasy, dreamless sleep and didn’t stir for a long, long while.

Oscar

I swiveled to the window, ignoring the pile of paperwork to face the window. My mind drifted off to yesterday, Wednesday when I went to check on Vanessa at her space. She was dozing off on her desk and her normal porcelain complexion looked a bit red and blotchy. She did not look all that good to me and I did not know what to do exactly.

Without giving much thought, I got up and walked to her office. I was surprised to push open the door and meet it empty. Her chair and desk did not look like it had been touched that morning. I glanced at my watch. 11:45 a.m. Why is she not here yet?

I reached out to the HR and then heard that she called in sick for the day. Damn. No wonder she was sleeping at work the other day. She was not feeling well and she did not bother to tell me about it.

What the hell is wrong with this woman of late? I grabbed my blazer and my keys and dashed to my car.

Within twenty minutes, I was at Queens and making my way up the steps to her front door. I knocked and waited, noting the thin film of dust that had coated the door knob. I knocked a few more times, shifting uneasily in my tan brogues.

What if she’s unconscious? What if she committed suicide or something crazy like that?

I started pushing against the door, eventually opting to use my brooch pin to pick the lock. As soon as I got in, I first noticed the lights were off, the curtains and the blinds were drawn so it was a bit too dark to see.

Her room door was slightly ajar and I saw her in bed, bundled in blankets and cardigans. She did not look good to me at all. Seeing her lie there like that, so weak and vulnerable, unable to lift a finger to help herself got me feeling very concerned and protective of her. Beads of sweat sat on her forehead and her upper lip.

There was the occasional shudder every few minutes. I just stood watching her for a few seconds, every iota of prior anger at her, gone.

I hurried to the kitchen to see if I could find evidence that she had eaten and get her something to eat if I was convinced she had not eaten.

The exact same way the house was untouched was how the kitchen was dry and untouched. So I frantically looked through her cabinets to see if I could whip up something at least. I found a thermometer in one of the drawers so I went back to check her temperature. 102.9°F. That was barely in the safe zone.

“If her temperature does not drop, I’d have to take her to the hospital,” I thought as I fished out a bottle of chilled water from her fridge and found an old t-shirt of hers that lay on the floor of her room. It still bore her scent and despite my worry, it caused a small smile to creep on to my face.

As I mopped her head with the cool cloth, she moaned in her sleep a few times but did not rouse. Her complexion slowly cleared from the pink I met it in to her usual porcelain tone.

The soup I put in the microwave was ready so I thought to wake her and let her have some. I found some bread so I put it in the tray beside the small bowl of soup. I didn’t know a lot about tending to sick women but I’d have to try for this particular one.

I tapped her gently after setting the tray on her bedside drawer. “Hey, V...”

It took her a while but she eventually came around, squinting in the daylight.

“It’s too bright in here…”