Chapter Twenty-Six
Georgie
The next morning, my head was pounding. I opened my eyes, but the broad daylight hurt them, so I closed them again. I moved my head to the other side and felt a wave of nausea rise up my throat.
What's going on? I didn't have that much to drink last night. And I felt as if my entire body was surrounded with hot coals.
"Okay, she's waking up. Let me know how soon. Thanks."
That was Julian's voice. It sounded as if he was super far away, but that couldn't be. The room was big, but it wasn't huge.
I opened my eyes again and struggled against the light. I couldn't see him anywhere, though. Then I pushed myself up on my elbows and fell back again.
"Don't get up." Julian sounded closer now. I felt the mattress cave in next to me, and he came into focus as his shape obscured the window behind him.
"What's going on?"
"You woke up with a fever. You threw up last night."
"I don't even remember that."
Julian pressed his lips together. He was more serious than I was used to. "You seemed pretty out of it."
I cleared my throat. "But I didn't make it to the toilet and back a-alone?"
"Why does it matter? I took care of you."
"Please tell me you didn't watch me throw up."
"Babe, I took care of you."
I wanted to disappear under the covers.
"I think something last night didn't agree with your stomach."
"Have you been sick?" I asked him.
He shook his head. "No."
"Then I don't think it was the restaurant food. I ate some cheese I had in the fridge at the store yesterday afternoon. It tasted a bit off, but I figured it was still okay. You really saw me throw up? At least tell me you didn't have to hold my hair." He fixed me with his gaze. He was still serious. "Oh no, you did," I groaned.
"You want me to lie to you?"
"You know what? Yeah, try it."
"Then no, I was fast asleep, didn't even hear a thing. You just told me what happened when you came to bed."
"Nah, it's not working." I took a good look at him now that my eyes were accustomed to the light. "Did I keep you up all night? You look like you haven't slept much.”
"I've been up for a while. You had a fever, and I was worried. I kept calling the family doctor, and he finally answered. He’s coming right away."
"Julian, I'm sure I just need some water."
"That's the thing. I've tried to give you water all night, after each time you threw up. You just got sick again."
I stilled. "So, I did throw up multiple times."
"Why are you so caught up on that?" he inquired, and I could tell he was genuinely baffled.
"We just started dating. I don't want you to see me puking."
"Georgie, stop that. There is no reason for you to feel uncomfortable. You were sick. I looked after you as best as I could. And I’m going to do that for the rest of the day."
I groaned, lying back. "What time is it?" I pushed myself up again and was hit with a fresh wave of nausea.
Right, brisk movements aren't good.
"Eleven o'clock."
I gasped. "Oh my God, Zelda must be freaking out. I need to call her."
"She called a few hours ago. I answered the phone and told her what's going on. She assured me that she’ll take care of the store until you're back on your feet. I offered to send some reinforcements in case she needs it."
I felt a strange pressure in my chest. "Who would you even send?"
"Probably one of my brothers."
I laughed. "As if they don't have anything better to do on the weekend."
"They’d do it as a favor to me if I asked them. Not sure how much use they’d be in the actual store, but they’d do it."
"Oh, Julian."
"The doctor suggested you have some toast. I'm going downstairs to bring you some."
"Thanks."
Now that he mentioned it, my stomach was rumbling. Though I didn't know if it was with hunger or with another bout of vomit—fingers crossed that it was the former.
After Julian left, I stared at the ceiling, realizing it was a full-blown painting. It looked almost as old as the house and was absolutely breathtaking. It wasn't a pattern, simply swirls of color, sage and light brown and nature hues. I could look at it endlessly; it was so relaxing. I took in a deep breath, breathing out slowly.
Julian returned in no time at all, holding a plate with two slices of toast and a glass of water.
He put them on the nightstand, but when I tried to push myself up, he said, "Stop. I’ll help you. Here."
He slid a hand between my back and the mattress, then pushed me up. God, this side of him was beyond anything I'd expected. He was so gentle with me. I straightened up and didn't get nauseous this time. He propped the pillow against the headrest, and I settled against it.
"How are you feeling?"
"No nausea."
"That's good."
He held the plate of toast for me, and I reached for a slice, munching on it with very small bites. I chewed it carefully before swallowing.
"I think I can eat this," I said after a few moments.
"That's good."
I took two more bites before taking a break.
"This is good. It hasn't made me feel like puking."
I was feeling a bit more optimistic as I moved on to the second slice.
"Don't eat it too fast," Julian cautioned.
"You're right."
"Want to try and drink some water?"
I eyed the glass. Somehow, I felt like that might not work. "Do I have to?"
Julian laughed, and I knew I sounded like a kid. "The doctor said that if you can't keep down liquids, he'll have to give you an IV."
I raised a brow. "That's a bit much, isn't it?"
"No. He asked me exactly how many times you threw up last night. When I told him, he got concerned. That's why he agreed to come."
“Then I'll try a few sips."
I was even more cautious than with the toast. Julian was holding the glass as if he feared I didn't have enough strength to do that myself. It was endearing.
I took a few very small sips and said, "I think I can keep this down, but I don't want to overdo it."
"All right. My instructions are to get you to drink half of this glass before he shows up."
"Which is when?"
"Half an hour, give or take."
"Bossy doctor," I complained. "And you're bossy too. I'm sick. Aren't you supposed to be nice to me?"
Julian cocked a brow but didn’t reply.
Over the next half hour, I dutifully drank while also eating my toast. It all stayed in my stomach, thank goodness.
The doctor arrived on time. Dr. Charles was an elderly man who appeared to be in his seventies. His beard and mustache were white as snow, but his hair was still gray. He even had strands of black in between.
"All right," he said gently. "Julian gave me the rundown of what happened last night. Tell me exactly how you feel."
He looked at my glass of water suspiciously. I tried to describe how I felt as best as possible.
"I’d like to get out of bed, though," I finished.
"I'm afraid I can't approve that today."
"At all?" I was shocked.
"You can move around the house." He looked at Julian. "But I would try and keep her well rested."
"Even though you don't remember last night, you were up a lot," Julian said.
"It's not just that," the doctor said. "You’re severely dehydrated. People think doctors joke when we say, 'You need to drink water,' but having an imbalance of electrolytes is extremely dangerous. Since you managed to drink that amount within half an hour and keep it down, I’m positively optimistic that you should be able to get the liquids you need on your own." He turned to Julian again. "You need to be very strict with her. She needs to drink eight ounces every hour. I usually recommend my patients consume a minimum of seventy ounces a day."
Even though his voice was very severe, his eyes were kind.
"I'll do that."
"Get one of those sport drinks for her, like Gatorade. That will help her hydrate even better.” The doctor then turned to me, saying, “See if you can stomach the taste. If you do, it's going to help. Don't overdo it, though. One bottle is enough."
"Gatorade it is," Julian said.
"That's all. Please keep me updated. If you start throwing up again or you can’t take in any more fluids, we'll need to give you an IV."
I groaned. "I hate hospitals."
"You don't need to go to a hospital for that. I’d arrange for you to have everything you need here."
I tried to contain my shock. I didn't even know that was possible.
"All right, then. I promised the missus I'd take her for brunch, and I don't want to be late. But I’m on call anytime you need," he told me and then looked at Julian.
I swear to God, I hoped we wouldn't have to call him. I was embarrassed enough that we had to drag this poor guy down here on a Sunday morning.
While Julian walked him downstairs, I eyed my glass again and then took another a few sips. I listened intently for Julian to come back up after I heard the front door close. To my intense surprise, it was completely silent. Maybe he'd decided to walk a few feet with the doctor. I was the only one who had to stay indoors and lie around doing nothing, after all. He was free to move around.
Julian returned a short while later, and he sprinted up the staircase.
"Hey, where have you been?" I asked.
He held up a bottle with a fluorescent blue liquid inside. "Got you Gatorade."
My heart gave a mighty squeeze. "That's why you went out?"
"Yes. The doctor said you need it. Far be it from me to disagree."
"I thought you always played things by ear," I teased as he came over to me.
"Not when it comes to a doctor's instructions." He began to uncap it, then looked at my glass and smiled. "You drank all of it."
My God, he sounded so proud, like I'd just finished a marathon or something. "Yes, I did."
"Okay." He put the cap back on. "Then you'll have this later. Don't think it's good to have too much at once."
"I don't think I could keep it down, honestly."
"What do you want to do?" he asked me.
"I’ll order an Uber."
He stared at me. "What are you talking about?"
"To go home. I like the bus, but even so, I couldn't possibly take it right now."
"Georgie, what are you talking about? You're not going anywhere."
"But the doctor said I should rest."
"Yes, and you will. Here. You'll alternate with the couch downstairs, and you're not leaving this house."
"You don't want to spend your entire day indoors."
He sat down on the edge of the bed, touching my face. "I want to spend the day with you. Besides, I want to keep an eye on you so I’ll know if I should call the doctor again."
Oh goodness, this didn’t feel like we were simply dating. It felt like a relationship.
"Are you sure?"
“Yes, I'm fucking sure. In fact, if you try to leave, I might just tie you to that bed."
Now that sounded interesting.
Julian looked at my cheeks and then started to laugh. "Your mind just went to sex, didn't it?"
"Hell yes."
He grinned. "Then I guess you're starting to recover."