Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Khaleesi
Sitting with my back against the headboard and my MacBook perched on top of my thighs that were under the comforter, the flu was still kicking my ass.
I took a long sip of the half-empty mug of echinacea tea and welcomed the soothing sensations as it went down.
The tea Jameera dropped off was definitely helping, and I was preparing it just as she instructed for maximum benefits. I needed all of the relief I could get.
Texts from my mom, Aunt Anila, and the girls were coming in around the clock to check on me.
Andy had fresh soup delivered to my door daily, and I had everything I needed.
The time off was lovely, but I couldn’t wait to get out of the house.
I was lowkey going stir crazy being confined to my bedroom.
My mind and body weren’t used to the homebody life.
We were used to being on the move, experiencing the hustle and bustle of everything life had to offer.
My fever had hovered around 102 before finally subsiding that morning, dropping to 100 even.
Conversely, the congestion lingered like it wanted to suffocate me, making every breath feel like work.
When I updated my mom about the congestion, she DoorDashed a humidifier to my place, and I set it up on the ottoman at the foot of my bed.
A gentle mist rose from the small white and blue machine, adding moisture to the air in an effort to soothe my irritated airways.
The flu was still kicking my ass, but I was feeling much better than when I first got back from Miami.
The doctor told me to come back and see him after day five if I wasn’t improving, and I was happy to feel some improvement.
A few pertinent emails came through, and the time-sensitive nature had me fighting through my aches and chills to reply.
D3 was in New York on a press tour, and I was already scheduled off of work with Q so I could accompany him, but the flu changed that.
I still managed to do everything I was responsible for while D3 was in New York because I was just that good at my job.
The Bluetooth speaker on my nightstand was playing Q’s first album on low.
That album would always hold a special place in my heart, because it gave me the perfect start to my career.
I also felt like you really got to know Q intimately through the lyrics on that album.
He was vulnerable, expressing hurt regarding his father’s actions during his parents’ divorce, the recovery process after getting shot, and his stepfather, Yaseer, giving him a kidney plus the money to invest in studio time while he recovered.
My favorite part of the album was learning how music brought him out of the dark place he was in while recovering after the kidney transplant due to complications and rejection scares.
Resilient should’ve been his middle name.
There was also a song dedicated to Q’s first love, Jameera, beautifully detailing the love he had for his high school sweetheart.
I thought it was cute that they found love at such a young age and were still going strong.
Based on the things you see and hear about the industry, I definitely thought that I would have to play blind to infidelity on Q’s behalf, but that was never the case.
From my point of view, Q only had eyes for Jameera, and I loved to see it.
I must’ve thought him up because a FaceTime call from Q came through my MacBook just as the thought crossed my mind. After emitting a few coughs, I hit the green button on the touch bar to answer.
“Hello,” I greeted him, and another bout of coughs hit me immediately afterward.
“Why are you up responding to emails?” Q scolded me.
I could tell from his background that he was leaving the pool in our building. The sun was shining bright as if we weren’t just freezing the week prior. I heard chatter in the background, and people splashing in the pool as the palm trees hovering over Q’s head came in and out of view.
Minimizing the FaceTime screen, I continued responding to emails. “You are my employer, not my daddy, Q. Please get off my phone with that,” I sniffled.
“As your employer, I gave you the time off to get better. Listen to yourself. Your ass can barely breathe,” he pointed out just before I broke into another fit of coughing.
“Jameera and Amill just came and dropped some fresh-pressed juices off for you. They said the juices will help boost your immune system. We are coming up now.”
“Okay,” I choked out.
“See, listen to you,” Q lectured.
My eyes flitted to the ceiling because Q was right.
Everyone had gone above and beyond to ensure everything went smoothly while I was down.
Since I started working with Q, I hadn’t taken a sick day.
If he needed me, I was there. Leaving Miami early was the first time he had to fly solo.
If it weren’t for Q insisting that I leave, I probably would’ve pushed through and inadvertently given the flu to everyone on the team.
“Shittttt, let her choke on her phlegm,” Xain laughed loudly in the background.
My neck snapped down hearing the devil’s voice come through the phone.
I pulled the FaceTime screen back up and silently mugged Q before hitting the red button to end the FaceTime call.
Xain was the last person I’d let hear me while I was sick and vulnerable.
It was that demon’s fault that I got the flu, and he had the nerve to crack jokes while basking in the sun with no shirt on.
That man repulsed me! I couldn’t stand the way he looked, the way he smelled, the way he talked, the way he walked. I loathed the way my brain cataloged every one of those details without my permission. Everything connected to Xain tapped danced on my nerves!
Seething in bed, I opened my mouth and struggled to take a deep breath in and out through my mouth since I was still congested.
I despised the way Xain was able to push me into a fit of rage with just those few words.
Or last Sunday in Miami when he smiled, shredding the last bit of sanity I had before I snapped.
Another incident I added to the “not my finest moment” folder.
My fingers hammered against the keyboard, and the clattering echoed in the silent room with each letter added to the email.
When I was done, I took a moment to read over the email before pressing send.
My phone notified me of motion at my door moments before the knocking started.
Slipping out of bed, I stuffed my feet into my purple fuzzy slippers and marched to the door.
I swung the door open, fully expecting Q’s tall, lanky frame in the doorway with my juices, but it was Xain standing there, looking like a one-eyed Frankenstein by the face.
My eyes fluttered as I made sure the illness wasn’t affecting my vision.
Jameera wasn’t exaggerating when she said Xain looked worse now that the scars were scabbing over.
Q was a few feet behind him on the phone.
“Here. Get the shit,” Xain shook the pink paper bag in my face, activating my crazy again.
The coughs I felt rising in my chest came out at the most opportune time. I rushed closer to Xain and open-mouthed coughed right in his face, adding a few times for extra dramatics. Xain dropped the bag he had dangling in my face. His face twisted in horror, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted shut.
“Aghhhh, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” He barked, pushing me back.
Xain shot away from me across the hall until his back slammed into the wall behind him.
His face went from horrified to enraged, using his hand to scrub his disfigured face as if he could wipe away the germs. The disgust reflecting in his eyes warmed my soul.
“You got me sick and still want to antagonize me. I’m just returning the favor,” I wheezed, bending over to collect my pink paper bag.
“How the fuck did I give you the flu?”
“You left me in the rain,” I argued.
“You can’t catch the flu from getting caught in the rain, man gon’ head,” he waved me off.
“No, you can’t catch the flu from getting caught in the rain, but getting caught in cold, wet conditions does weaken your immune system and lowers body temperature, making you more susceptible to viruses.
I’ve never had the flu, COVID, or anything like that.
I rarely get sick. This is your fault! I don’t give a fuck what nobody says.
I hope the fever and chills take you the fuck out.
Or better yet, I hope you choke on the phlegm in your cold, lonely house nigga!
” I argued. There was so much more I wanted to get off my chest, but a violent coughing fit seized me.
It was so intense that I couldn’t draw a full breath.
I doubled over, choking on the mucus in my throat until tears blurred my vision.
In my position, my view was the hardwood hallway floors and Xain’s toes in a pair of Gucci slides. Yeah, I hated his feet too.
“Fuck, she’s choking,” Q’s voice shouted in the distance before his steps pattered towards me. “Xain, pat her back. She already coughed on you. You know I can’t afford to get sick,” Q commanded as he rushed over to us.
“Nigga please, she’ll die right here before I save her flaw ass,” Xain spat and walked off.
The coughing continued for a few moments, and I lifted my hand to prevent Q from coming any closer. I knew I wasn’t choking. It just felt like it, and I didn’t want to get him sick. My eyes watered, and I gagged a little before the coughing finally subsided.
“I’m fine. I’m just going to lay down,” I rasped. Q was still a good distance away when I stood back up straight and forced a smile to quell the concern written all over his face.
“I’m good,” I wheezed.
“You sure?”
“I’m positive. I’m going to drink these and lie back down. Thank you,” I muttered.
“Okay. I’m going to check on you later. Please put the laptop down and rest.”
“I will,” I assured him, stepping back into my unit.
I closed the door in his face and used the last bit of strength I had to open one of the juices before climbing back into bed.
Settling back into my spot, I drank the orange-tinted juice, tasting the ginger, turmeric, and citrus fruits.
I did way too much and probably would remain miserable for the rest of the day, but it was worth it to see the horror on Xain’s face.
A devious smile gradually spread across my face at the memory.