Let Me Take Care Of You Too
Adrian being sick lasted exactly two days.
Which should have been reassuring.
Unfortunately—
those two days revealed something deeply dangerous about their relationship.
Lia liked taking care of him.
And Adrian?
Adrian looked emotionally devastated by being cared for at all.
—
Wednesday evening arrived quiet and cold.
The storm from earlier finally faded into soft rain against the penthouse windows while warm light filled the apartment.
Lia stood barefoot in the kitchen stirring soup while Adrian sat at the island watching her with the kind of focus most people reserved for life-changing events.
Honestly?
It was starting to concern her.
"You're staring again."
A faint smile touched his mouth.
"You're cooking for me."
"You say that like I'm performing surgery."
The smile widened slightly.
"You burned garlic bread last week."
"That was one time."
"It was impressive."
Lia pointed the spoon at him accusingly.
"You're recovering from a fever. Be humble."
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Low.
Warm.
Still slightly rough around the edges from being sick.
God.
Even his voice sounded unfairly attractive.
Adrian leaned back slightly against the stool while watching her move around the kitchen.
Comfortable.
Domestic.
Dangerously soft.
The apartment smelled warm now.
Soup simmering on the stove.
Rain drifting through slightly open windows.
Coffee from earlier still lingering faintly in the air.
Home.
The realization settled deeply into Lia's chest.
"You should still be resting."
"I am resting."
"You answered emails for four hours."
A faint flicker crossed his face.
"I was bored."
"You had a fever yesterday."
"And today I have you threatening me with soup."
Lia physically laughed.
Adrian visibly relaxed at the sound immediately.
Like hearing her laugh physically settled something inside him.
The realization affected her more than it should have.
She carried the bowls toward the island carefully before placing one in front of him.
Adrian looked down at it.
Then back at her.
Something quietly emotional crossed his face.
Lia noticed instantly.
"What?"
A slow breath escaped him.
"No one's ever taken care of me like this before."
The honesty shattered straight through her chest.
Because Adrian didn't sound dramatic.
Or manipulative.
Just genuinely surprised.
Lia sat beside him slowly.
"That's sad."
A faint smile appeared.
"It's efficient."
"That is the most emotionally repressed answer possible."
Another laugh escaped him softly.
Then quieter—
"My mother used to when I was little."
The confession caught her off guard immediately.
Because Adrian rarely talked about his childhood.
Or family.
Or anything before becoming the version of himself the world knew now.
Lia stayed quiet carefully.
Giving him space.
Adrian looked down briefly at the soup before continuing softer:
"She died when I was thirteen."
The room fell silent.
Rain tapping gently against the windows.
Warm light spilling across the kitchen.
Lia's chest physically hurt.
Because suddenly—
so many things made sense.
The loneliness.
The distance.
The way Adrian clung to love like something terrifyingly temporary.
"You never talk about her," Lia whispered softly.
A faint flicker crossed his face.
"I try not to."
The answer came honest.
Simple.
Painfully controlled.
Adrian picked up the spoon absently before setting it down again without eating.
His expression looked distant suddenly.
Not cold.
Just somewhere else.
Lia reached for his hand instinctively across the counter.
Immediate reaction.
His fingers intertwined tightly with hers.
Like comfort from her had become automatic now.
"She used to make soup when I got sick," he murmured quietly.
The confession shattered something inside her chest completely.
Because Adrian sounded so young for a second.
Not billionaire.
Not untouchable.
Just someone who lost softness too early.
Lia squeezed his hand gently.
"She would've loved you."
Silence crashed softly between them.
Adrian stared at her afterward like she'd said something he physically didn't know how to process.
Then slowly—
his composure cracked.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for her to see the grief still living quietly underneath everything else.
"You say things," he whispered roughly, "that make me miss people harder."
The honesty nearly ruined her emotionally.
Lia moved without thinking.
Crossing the small distance between them before wrapping her arms gently around him.
Immediate reaction.
Adrian held onto her instantly.
Tightly.
Like he needed the contact after speaking about something painful aloud.
His face buried briefly against her shoulder while rain echoed softly through the apartment.
Warm kitchen.
Dim lights.
Two bowls of soup forgotten on the counter.
The intimacy of the moment felt almost fragile.
"You know what scares me?" Adrian murmured quietly against her shoulder.
Lia swallowed carefully.
"What?"
His arms tightened slightly around her waist.
"That I got so used to being alone that this still feels unreal sometimes."
The confession wrapped painfully around her heart.
Because Adrian sounded overwhelmed by happiness again.
Like being loved gently still surprised him every day.
Lia pulled back just enough to look at him properly.
His expression nearly destroyed her.
Soft.
Tired.
Emotionally open in ways only she ever saw.
"You don't have to survive everything by yourself anymore," she whispered softly.
A faint breath escaped him.
"I know."
Then quieter—
"You make me want to believe that completely."
The sincerity in his voice physically hurt.
Lia brushed her fingers gently through his hair again.
Immediate reaction.
Always immediate.
His eyes closed briefly while his shoulders relaxed beneath her touch.
Then finally—
with enough vulnerability to ruin her permanently—
"Let me take care of you too."