Page 55 of Why Not Forever?

“It’s not great. It hasn’t come down, but the doctor said not to worry unless it goes up, and it hasn’t done that either.” I’m lying. I’m freaking out. Her temperature is still sitting at 103°F. It’s true the doctor said not to worry if it doesn’t come down right away. He said to wait until tomorrow, but I want something done now. I want her betternow.

She eats about half the bowl of broth, has a couple sips of tea, and none of the water, so I set it on her bedside table for later.

I help her settle again, smoothing her hair back. I would offer to brush it for her, since it’s all fallen out of the bun she’d made that morning, but she already has her eyes closed.

“You’re not going anywhere, right?” she asks, her voice soft.

“No. I’m just in the living room. I won’t be leaving.”

“What if you need something?”

“Derek said to call if we need anything. I won’t leave you, Vic.”

She sighs. “That’s good.”

Her breathing evens and I’m pretty sure she’s fallen asleep, or as close to it as she’s going to get while the fever grips her. I just wish there was more I could do.

I check on her frequently during the night and into the morning. I coax her to have more of the broth and more Tylenol. I track everything: when I took her temperature, what it was, when I gave her medicine or food or something to drink. At 11pm, I call the nurse’s hotline and explain everything.

“Sounds like you’re doing everything you can. Give it until morning and see if the fever breaks then.”

I pace. I hate feeling useless.

On the plus side, her fever doesn’t get worse, the Tylenol seems to help her sleep, and she’s eaten half a bowl of broth three times.

It comes as a huge relief, when at 3am, she gets up out of bed on her own because she says she has to go to the bathroom. I wait until she’s done and climbing back into bed to check her temperature again, noting it’s dropped to 100°F.

“Why are you even awake?” she asks when I tuck her back in.

I shrug. “I fell asleep watching a show. Heard you get up, figured I should check since I haven’t in a few hours.”

It’s only partially a lie. I did fall asleep watching a show, but I also never intended to go to my bed tonight. It’s too far away from hers on the other side of the apartment.

“Are you going to bed now, then?” she asks.

“Meh. I’m usually up in a couple hours, anyway. Might get some more work done so I can have a bit of a relaxed day.”

“Aren’t you going into the office?”

I shake my head. “I told Richard I’m staying home today.”

Her eyes drift closed. “I’m starting to feel better, Tanner. You don’t have to.”

“I already said I was. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be here all day. You’ll be sick of me before tonight.”

“I already am,” she grumbles halfheartedly. “Checking my temperature every two minutes. Forcing soup down my throat. You’re the most annoying person in the world.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” I lean down and press a kiss to her temple before I can think better of it, but I’m so relieved that she’s turned the corner. “Sleep. I’ll have more soup for you in the morning for breakfast.”

She huffs a laugh, peeking one eye open. “You’re lucky it’s good soup.”

I laugh as I stand. “I didn’t make it. I just warmed it up. You’re the lucky one with a professional chef for a friend.”

I leave her to get some more sleep. I make a pot of coffee then take a quick shower and change into fresh clothes while it brews—some sweatpants and a sweatshirt, because if I’m going to work from home, I might as well be comfortable. I pour the coffee and sit at the table where all my things are still spread out from last night.

Before I get started, I take off my glasses, resting my forehead in my hands, breathing deeply as I let go of all the fear the last fifteen hours have brought me, ever since I tried calling her and she didn’t answer. It’s foolish to have been so worried. She has the flu. She’s going to be fine.

But when someone you love is sick, you worry.

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