Chapter 18 - Georgie
Jess lifts her travel bag onto the bed, pulling the zipper open, she glances over the neatly rolled clothes I am helping her sort.
She picks up a few of her T-shirts, placing them into her bag, then sighs loudly and throws me a pout.
“I’m going to miss you like crazy,” she complains.
“But I’m so excited to get back to Emmanuil.
Jeepers, I can’t even explain how much I love that man.
I can’t believe I’ve already been here for a month. Time flies so fast.”
Sitting down on the side of the bed to hide the fact that my legs feel weak, I smile at her. It’s been amazing having her here. She’s the type of person that I can not see for ages, but as soon as I see her again, it’s like we never had any time apart.
And knowing how happy she is in her life makes me happy, too.
“I’m so happy you found that kind of love, Jess. I can see how you glow when you talk about him. Were you really here for a month? That’s crazy. Having you around is so comfortable it feels shorter. What am I going to do without you?” I say, handing her the clothes as I finish rolling them.
Jess throws me an odd, cheeky smile.
“It’s not like you’ll be alone. You know, I can see your glow, too,” she raises her brows at me.
“Okay, let’s not start all that again.” I shake my head, not eager to discuss anything about what’s going on between her brother and me, because I have no idea what’s going on. How can I comment on it when it’s so one-sided, with me looking like a desperate fool?
I’ve managed to somehow steer clear of this conversation every time she’s tried to bring it up during her stay.
Besides, right now, I feel like crap. It started in the very early hours of this morning and keeps getting worse. I’m drained, exhausted, vomiting throughout the day, and all I want to do is crawl into bed. I’ve managed to hide it from everyone, though.
“You look a bit paler than usual,” Jess remarks, squinting at me.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I’m a bit worried about the next exam.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she says confidently. “You keep acing them. You’re the top student in that class.”
I don’t want to worry her with whatever is going on with me. It’s probably just some kind of tummy bug that will pass in a day or two. She’s so excited to get home to her husband, and if she finds out I’m sick, she’ll insist on staying to take care of me.
“You’re right. But the pressure still gets to a person,” I shrug.
“The pressure to be the best.” She grins, shoving the last pair of jeans in and zipping her bag up. “Is that everything?” she asks, looking around the room.
“I’ll check the bathroom. You always leave your toiletry bag behind.”
“Not always,” she complains. “Only most of the time.”
Sure enough, it’s sitting on the vanity. I scoop it up and zip it closed, carrying it through to the room.
Her face beams with a sheepish grin. “Most of the time,” she says again, taking it from me and opening her bag again to stash it inside. She glances at her watch. “Okay, I have to get going. The pilot is waiting for me on the runway. I was supposed to be there already.”
I grab her and pull her into a hug, turning my face away so she doesn’t get my germs on her. She squeezes me tight.
“You'd better message me every day. No more secrets. Tell me everything,” she says, scolding me.
“I will,” I say. “And we can video call next week again. You just let me know the time and day after you’ve settled in at home.”
She steps back and gives me one more long look.
“You should talk to Kris. About things. You might be surprised by what he says,” she suggests, her eyes piercing into mine as if she knows secrets.
“Did he tell you something?” I ask, my heart fluttering with hope.
“No. He doesn’t need to, though. Even a fool could see it.”
I roll my eyes. She got me really excited there for a moment.
Jess and I walk slowly out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out into the front where the car is parked.
The driver is waiting with the door open.
He takes her bags and stows them in the trunk.
She gives me one last hug, lingering, then steps away and waves as she climbs into the back seat with a radiant smile on her face.
I stand on the front step watching the car until it leaves the estate and turns onto the road.
Then I bolt inside, only just making it to the downstairs bathroom in time to avoid throwing up on the floor. Ugh. This is horrible.
Drained and feeling gross, I go up to my room and lock myself away to sleep and hide. Kristopher is really busy at work, Jess is on her way home, and I don’t want to worry anyone with a silly tummy bug.
I close my eyes and press my hands over my stomach. It’ll be fine in a day or two. If not, I’ll sneak off to the pharmacy to get something to settle the nausea.
***
A day or two passes, and I still feel horrible. It hasn’t improved at all. Sometimes I think I’m feeling better, but then I catch a scent of something food-related and the nausea kicks in all over again.
I spend most of my time in my room, hiding from Kristopher and claiming that I have a lot of studying to get through.
It’s easy to stay out of his way because he’s coming home late after long days at the office, and he’s exhausted.
But he’s also annoyed that I haven’t had dinner with him in a few nights.
I can’t keep anything down, though, so I tell him I’ve already eaten whenever he asks me to join him.
It’s Wednesday. My fourth night struggling with this virus.
I hear Kris arriving home and snuggle myself deeper beneath the blankets, hoping he will just peek into my room and think I’m sleeping.
I caught a look at myself in the mirror today, and there are dark circles under my eyes, and my skin is sickly pale. I look like shit. Tomorrow, I’m going to have to sneak off to the pharmacy for meds.
“Hey, you, are you awake?” he whispers, leaning into my open bedroom door. I don’t answer. I stay very still. He walks into my room and sits on the side of my bed. His hand strokes over my back, and as he leans over me, he pulls the blankets away from my face and realizes I’m awake.
“Georgie, you look…” he says, shocked when I roll to face him, and he sees the dark rings around my eyes.
There’s no point in hiding it, I guess.
I look like shit.
It’s obvious.
“Hi,” I mutter meekly. Slightly embarrassed.
He presses his hand gently over my forehead. “You look terrible,” he says with worry tight in his voice.
“I think I have a bug or something. You should keep your distance.”
“But when did this start? If this hit you today, then it’s a really serious bug,” he exclaims.
“Four days ago,” I sigh.
“Four days?” he snaps, angry. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demands.
“I didn’t want to worry you. I know you’re busy with work. There’s no reason for you to be concerned about this, too.”
His phone rings in his pocket, and he tugs it out, answering it.
“Hello. No. No, I won’t make it. We need to reschedule. Good.” He hangs up. Leaning over, he flicks on the bedside light to get a better look at me.
“What was that?” I stammer, sitting up in bed, causing my head to spin. I lean my back against the headrest and close my eyes.
“When last did you eat?” he asks, looking even more worried to see my face fully.
“Three days ago. I tried to nibble on things here and there, but it doesn’t stay down.”
“Georgie,” he exclaims, pulling me into a gentle hug. “You should have told me.”
“What did you cancel now?” I ask. “Was it a work thing?”
“I had a video conference scheduled for tonight. Now, actually.”
“You shouldn’t cancel,” I blurt out.
“Are you kidding? I have far more precious things to take care of than that meeting.” He touches my face, softly, his warm hand brushing over my cheek. I lean into him.
“Is there anything you think you can eat? Maybe a slice of toast with butter? And some lavender tea?”
“I can try,” I say. My stomach is aching for food, but nothing agrees with me.
“I’ll hop in the shower quickly, then make that for you. Are you strong enough to stand? You should come and sleep in my room. I’ll put a movie on for us, and we can lie together. I’d rather have you where I can keep an eye on you.”
“Kris, you really don’t need to do all of this for me. I’ll probably be all better tomorrow. And if I’m sick through the night, I’m just going to be keeping you awake.”
He throws me a stern look. “I’m going to take care of you whether you allow it or not, little one. The only question is, do I carry you to my bed or do you want to walk?”
I giggle. “Carry me,” I joke. And then, before I can tell him I was teasing, he pulls the blankets aside, scoops me into his arms, and carries me to his room, cradled against his chest. Despite my protests, I really want this.
I doze off while Kris showers and fusses about in the kitchen afterward, tucked into his blankets.
He wakes me up gently, and I find him lying in bed next to me with a tray of food on the bed.
“Sorry to wake you, I know you’re probably tired, but I really want you to try and eat,” he says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and holding me against his chest as he lifts the tray onto my lap. “Even just a few bites.”
I snuggle into his side and pick up a piece of toast. I sniff it, testing my body’s reaction. I take a nervous bite and chew slowly. I can feel Kris’s eyes on me. “Don’t watch me so intently. It’s making me nervous,” I giggle weakly.
“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll choose a movie.” He picks up the remote from his bedside table and presses a button. A large flat screen TV slides down from the ceiling where it was concealed.
“Neat trick,” I muse, taking another bite of toast, which seems to be going down okay. For now. I hope this doesn’t cause me to throw up all night again.
He chooses a romantic comedy. It’s more like ambient noise, though.
The movie plays in the background, the volume turned low, while Kris holds me and quietly talks about his day.
His voice is all I need. The gentle, deep vibration of his words rumbles through me like a drug, soothing me.
I am safe with him. And I’m already starting to feel better.
I guess I did need him after all. I needed him to take care of me.
The problem is that needing him is the dangerous thing I’m trying to avoid. What if I get used to this? What if I start relying on him?
My heart is melting into him, becoming so entangled with his gentle nature, this side of him that no one else sees, that I am certain I’m going to be devastated when this thing with his father is over, everything is safe again, and he sends me back to my normal life.
I don’t care about the lavish mansion, the fancy foods, or the endless new things he buys me. I don’t care about any of the material things that he gives me…But I care deeply, madly, insatiably, about him.
His gentleness as he takes care of me while I’m sick is no surprise. I know enough about him to understand how tender and thoughtful he can be. But it does scare me. It scares me because it’s making me long for him even more.
I fall asleep in his arms, and wrapped safely in his embrace, I sleep better than I have for the past few nights.