Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
T his was not the best date of Jules' life.
The best date was last week, when Fish had taken her to a secluded lake. They had spent the day on the serene waters, eating a meal he had prepared himself under the watchful eye of her sister, who had ensured it was diabetic-friendly. The memory of that day made her smile—a perfect blend of tranquility, delicious food, and Fish’s thoughtful care.
The second best date had been a lazy afternoon at her place, binge-watching their favorite K-dramas. She had learned that she and Fish had similar tastes in entertainment, both of them getting lost in the same romantic plot twists and heartfelt moments. They had cuddled up on the couch, a blanket wrapped around them, her head resting on his shoulder as they shared laughter and tears. Well, here tears. Not his. The warmth of his body next to hers had felt like home, a comfort she had never known she craved until then.
He'd made her feel safe, cherished. More importantly, she had felt a connection growing between them—one that was more than just the circumstances of their marriage. It was a connection rooted in genuine care, in the way he looked at her like she was the most important person in the world, and in the way he made her feel like she could be herself, flaws and all.
They had seen each other every day at the bakery as the renovation progressed. Fish continued to be her snowplow, clearing obstacles from her path and making everything smoother and more manageable. He always stood behind her, ready to catch her if she stumbled, following her lead with unwavering support.
And stumble she did—once or twice. Perhaps intentionally. Just to feel his strong arms around her.
Yesterday, Jules had found herself accidentally-on purpose off balance. Fish was already there. Her back fell into the soft impact of his broad chest. Inside his embrace, she felt a sense of peace and security. It was as if Fish’s arms formed a cocoon around her, enveloping her in warmth and protection. She felt the steady rise and fall of his breath, the solid beat of his heart. The sensation was comforting and transformative, as if she was on the verge of something new and beautiful, ready to emerge from this cocoon as a butterfly. In his embrace, she felt ready to let herself be vulnerable, to trust, and maybe, just maybe, to love.
Jules had already been half in love with the man since the day he had finally confessed his love for her. She remembered the look in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, and the way her heart had soared. She had hoped to tell him about her feelings on today's date, but as she hiked up the seemingly endless trail, she found herself struggling to enjoy the experience.
Hiking was Fish’s passion, and she wanted to share in it, to understand this part of him. But as they climbed higher, her enthusiasm waned. Her feet were sore, her muscles screamed in protest, and the air felt thin and oppressive. She admired Fish's stamina and determination, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being out of her element.
Jules followed Fish up the hill, though to her it felt more like they were scaling a mountain. Each step pulled at her calf muscles and made her lungs protest. Meanwhile, Fish moved with the effortless grace of someone who was born to navigate the rugged terrain. His sure-footedness was impressive, his stride confident as he led the way.
Ahead of them, the landscape stretched out in a breathtaking panorama. The morning sun bathed the rolling hills in a golden light, casting long shadows that danced across the earth. The trees, with their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, created a soothing symphony that mingled with the distant chirping of birds. In the distance, the peaks of the mountains loomed, their majesty softened by the early mist that clung to their summits. A river wound its way through the valley below, its waters sparkling like a ribbon of silver under the sunlight. It was a view that could steal the breath from anyone's lungs, but all Jules could focus on was the man in front of her.
Her eyes were drawn to the curve of Fish's broad shoulders. His back, sturdy and strong, tapered down to his narrow waist, every muscle defined and moving with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic. His muscled forearms flexed as he adjusted the straps of his backpack, the veins running beneath his skin like a map of resilience and hard work. The fabric of his shirt clung to his back, outlining the powerful muscles beneath. As he stepped over rocks and roots, his strong thighs propelled him upward with effortless power.
The man took everything in stride, including this hike. He pointed out the beauty around them with a quiet enthusiasm that contrasted with his imposing frame. His voice, deep and steady, described the views ahead, the distant mountains, the cascading waterfalls they’d soon reach, but all Jules wanted to do was reach for him.
Despite her protests and invitations, they hadn't gone past first base in this marriage. Instead of climbing higher, she'd much prefer to lie down behind one of those bushes and have her way with her husband. But that was not a part of Fish's plans today.
Jules sighed inwardly, wishing she could summon the same enthusiasm Fish had for this hike. She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed by her lack of enjoyment. More than anything, she wanted to support him and be a part of his world, even if it meant stepping out of her comfort zone.
When they were only halfway up the trail, Fish turned and rewarded her with a kiss. His lips were soft and inviting, and for a moment, Jules forgot about the grueling hike. But instead of invigorating her, the kiss left her breathless and wanting more. The promise of more kisses at the top became her motivation. She powered through the rest of the hike, her determination fueled by the memory of his touch.
By the time they reached the summit, Jules was completely spent. Despite the hearty breakfast she'd had that morning, the steep climb had taken its toll on her body. She was sweating profusely, her skin damp and clammy, and her muscles ached with a deep, throbbing fatigue that settled into her bones. Her breath came in short, labored gasps, each inhale feeling like a struggle as she tried to fill her lungs with the thinning air at the higher elevation.
Her vision started to blur. The world around her wavered like a mirage. A pounding headache began to build at her temples, each pulse like a hammer striking her skull. She wiped at her brow with the back of her hand. It did little to alleviate the dizziness that crept over her. Her throat felt parched and dry, as if all the moisture had been sapped from her body. When she reached for her water bottle, she realized with a sinking feeling that it was empty.
Panic fluttered in her chest as she recognized the signs—she was dehydrated, and her blood sugar was dropping. Her body was struggling to keep up with the demands of the hike, and she knew she needed to address it quickly. Her heart pounded not just from exertion, but from the growing worry that she might be on the verge of a diabetic episode. She glanced at Fish, who was still pointing out the view with enthusiasm, unaware of her distress. She tried to steady herself, but the ground beneath her felt unsteady, her legs weak and trembling.
She knew she needed to rest, to rehydrate, and to get something into her system to stabilize her blood sugar before things got worse. The hike had pushed her beyond her limits, and now her body was sending clear signals that it needed attention.
"You're out?" Fish, always attentive, handed her his water bottle. "Here, take mine."
Jules took a healthy swig, immediately noticing a sweetness to it. She pulled the bottle away and looked at it suspiciously. "What’s in this water?"
"It's electrolyte water," Fish said casually. "It's a sports drink."
Her heart sank. "Oh no," she murmured, feeling a wave of nausea hit her. She bent over, clutching her stomach, and vomited.
As if on cue, her blood sugar sensor beeped loudly, signaling a problem. Panic started to set in. "Fish," she managed to say between ragged breaths, "I'm having a reaction. I pushed myself too hard and then drank the sports drink."
Fish's eyes widened in alarm, his hands hovering uncertainly. "What do you need? Tell me what to do."
Jules tried to focus, but her vision was swimming. "I might pass out. You need to—" But before she could finish, the world tilted, and darkness closed in.