Page 67 of Under Ground

“I’ll go to the grocery store for supplies and then come over. If you’re both sick, you’ll need a nurse, and I happen to have a gap in my schedule.”

“Alex, just talk to Casey on the phone. That’s enough.” A tear rolls down my cheek, and I wipe it away as it stings.

“No. It’s not enough. I’ll be there soon.” He draws in a breath. “I love you.”

He disconnects the call before I can respond. There’s only one response, and that’s that I love him too, but being with him is so complicated.

And the last thing I can think about now.

At least his presence will put a smile on Casey’s face.

I walk up the hallway and into her room. My little blonde angel, her cheeks spotty and ruddy, is fast asleep. Her mouth’s hanging open, and she snuffles as she sleeps, almost as if she can’t quite snore.

I lean over and peck her forehead. She’s a little warm, but nothing that concerns me enough to wake her by sticking the thermometer in her ear.

I’m not sure how long this’ll last, so I head back out to the living room and flop onto the couch. What I need to do right now is catch some sleep while Casey is. It’s my only chance of retaining my sanity.

It doesn’t take much for my eyes to grow heavy. It’s been so long since I took a sick day—we had more than our fair share when Casey started day care, but the last two years haven’t been too bad. I guess this is our accumulated time off.

But I can’t sleep.

My eyes are weeping, not with tears, and I stick the thermometer in my ear to check my temperature for about the millionth time.

“Mummy,” Casey yells.

I groan, pushing myself off the couch and onto my feet. This is the first time we’ve been sick together. I guess I should be grateful for that instead of cursing it, but right now, with my temperature rising and everything aching, grateful is the last thing I feel.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of someone knocking on the door fills me with hope. I know what Alex said, but I wouldn’t blame him if instead of coming over, he got on a plane and flew as far away as he could.

I jerk open the door.

Alex never looked so good.

He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that fits him so well, I ache to touch his abs through it. His eyes are tired, but damn it, he looks wonderful.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

I’m sure my cheeks flush like we’re just meeting for the first time—not that I’d know it because my whole face is hot.

“You need to go back to bed.”

I step back to let him in. “I was lying on the couch.”

“Then, the couch. I’m here now. You just need to rest.”

“Casey needs me.”

Alex steps inside and seems to drink in the sight of me, which must be awful right now. My hair’s all puffed up from lying down, and I know my eyes are bloodshot thanks to the high temperature and not sleeping.

“I think you both need me. I’ll go in and see Casey and then grab the groceries.”

I’m left trailing in his wake as he heads up the hallway and into Casey’s room.

Casey’s hangdog expression disappears when we walk into the room. This kid was fast asleep a short time ago; now, she’s all wide-eyed and smiling for the first time today—albeit a very tired smile.

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