Chapter 4
Francesca
I heard retching.
But for a change—it wasn't me. I couldn't count the number of times I was up and down to the bathroom in the night.
Each time Stefan helped. He even brought me a big silver mixing bowl because he said that's what Giselle and Eve used with the kids.
But this was definitely not me in the bathroom. I was lying in a sweaty puddle in the bed. My fever still hadn't broken. Even with the pills Stefan gave me. Nothing was helping.
A moment later, I heard the toilet flush. Then Stefan walked out of the bathroom, sweat running down his handsome face.
“Oh, no. It got you, too?” I said over my sore, dry throat.
“Yeah. But I'm okay.” He got into bed but stayed on his side.
I rolled over even though my head was still spinning. My hand touched his forehead. “You're fevered.” I informed him.
Stefan let out a sarcastic laugh. “I know.”
Something inside me spiraled. I sat up and said, “I'll get you some pills. And a water.”
Stefan's hand grabbed my arm, not letting me get out of bed. “I'm fine,” he stated and pulled me to him. “You need to rest. Come here.”
I had no choice in the matter. Even sick and fevered, Stefan was still stronger than I was.
“But you're sick.” I sighed, unable to do much more than that.
“I'm fine. Go to sleep.”
And so—I did.