She mumbles something into her pillow.
“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”
“I said I don’t want to,” she says, louder, but her voice is still kind of weak.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Like I’ve been hit by a truck.” She shakes her head. “Something bigger. A train.”
I chuckle. “Have you managed to sleep?”
“Not really. I’ve been having really vivid dreams.”
“About what?”
She opens her eyes, glassy with fever. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“I guarantee you, I will not think it’s stupid. They’re fever dreams. They’re supposed to be weird.” I smooth the hair back from her face. Her skin is still hot to the touch. I should check her temperature again before I give her the food.
“Nightmare stuff,” she says. “Spreadsheets not balancing, things I forgot to do. But they’re all things Ihavedone. Last week.”
“Your brain is freaking out because you’re sick. You’re going to be okay. Derek brought over some soup for you. Can you eat some of it?”
Her brows crinkle slightly. “Derek brought it?”
“From Lis.”
“Ah.” She relaxes, her eyes drifting closed again. “I don’t know if I can have anything solid in my stomach right now.”
“It’s just chicken broth. I also made some peppermint tea and refilled your water.”
“Will you help me sit up?” she asks.
I place my hand behind her back, and she holds me as we sit her up in bed, propping some pillows behind her. Her head lolls to the side as though her neck isn’t strong enough to hold it up.
“Come on, gorgeous. Head back on the headboard. That’s right.” I help her move until she’s mostly sitting up.
Her voice cracks as she says, “Everything hurts.”
I watch as proud, strong Vic’s eyes fill with tears. I brush them away before they can do more than cling to her eyelashes.
“I know, baby. I have more Tylenol, and once you’ve eaten something, you’ll feel a little better.”
“I’m not, you know,” she says as I return to the dresser to get the tray.
“Not what?” I ask, setting it on her lap.
“Gorgeous. Maybe when I’m all dressed up, hair done, make up done. Not right now. I probably look like I lost a fight with someone.”
“You let me worry about how beautiful I think you are. Even when you look like you lost a fight. In the meantime, put this in your mouth.”
Her mouth kicks up in half a smile. “That was very sexual.”
I wink. “I meant for it to be. Open up.”
I hand her the thermometer, and we wait until it beeps, letting me know it’s ready. I take it out and let her start eating, sitting with her on the edge of her bed.
“Is it bad?” she asks.