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I end the call before Paige can say anything else. Doesn’t she think I thought of taking Lana back? What would my life be like without her? Is it better to forgive and forget or spend the rest of my life wondering what would have been? I don’t know the answer, and at this point, it even hurts to think.
I’m not sure what time it is, but I see dawn creeping in from the windows since I never shut the curtains. I can feel sweat leaking down my face, and I wipe at it with my sleeve only to discover that my sweatshirt is soaked. I sit up, but my head hurts so much that I need to lie down again. I drank the water by my bedside hours ago, and I’m dying of thirst. I need to attempt to get out of these clothes and get something to drink.
I think I need help, which I usually won’t ask for. I slide my phone onto the bed from the nightstand. It’s hard to see as I scroll through my contacts, and when I get to the L’s, I text Lucian.
I’m sick as a dog. I need help. Can you stop by? Stuck in bed.
I have to get out of these sweats and maybe try to change the sheets because they’re damp, too. I sit up and clench my teeth as my head pounds, and a wave of nausea grips me. I suppress a cough because that only makes my head hurt worse.
Standing, I use the wall to steady myself and go to my closet. I pull out a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. It takes me several minutes to complete the process of undressing and dressing. The walk back to the bed is not easy, and I say to hell with changing the sheets.
“Zane, wake up, the doctor is here.”
I try hard to open my eyes and succeed only to squint at the bedside light shining in my eyes. The doctor checks everything without asking for much effort from me. He covers me back up, and I fade back to sleep as I hear a familiar voice and his discussing my condition.
When I wake next, it’s Lana that I see sitting in a straight-backed chair next to my bedside. She’s reading a book as I break into a fit of coughing.
“Baby, the doctor gave me a prescription for cough syrup. Sit up so I can give you some. You also have to take the antibiotics he prescribed. I made a pot of chicken soup for you. Just let me know when you’re hungry.”
I dutifully sit up even though my head still feels fuzzy, and she fills a small clear cup with syrup, which is cherry flavored. Then she hands me two pills and a bottle of water. I turn on my side and keep my eyes open to look at her while she smoothes my damp hair.
“Lana,” I rasp. “What are you doing here?”
“You texted me that you were sick. I couldn’t leave you. I know you hate me, but I couldn’t let you suffer. I found you on the floor by your bed. I had to call Lucian to help me get you back in. He knew a doctor who does house calls. He said you have bronchitis. He would only discuss your condition with you or your family members. I lied and said I was your fiancée. I’m sorry.”
“I want to talk to you when I’m better. I can’t now.”
“I know. Go to sleep.”
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
“Of course. I’m not going to leave you.”
I feel relief wash over me.
A few hours later, Lana wakes me by stroking my cheek with her fingers.
“Wake up. Time to take another dose of antibiotics.”
I open my eyes, and she’s standing in front of me, holding two pills between her fingers and a bottle of water in the other hand. I sit up, and my head doesn’t feel as bad, but I start coughing again as the fluid in my lungs shifts upon my movement.
“Cough syrup next. Take this first.”
I do as she asks then accept the cup of liquid she offers me. She places it down on the nightstand after and gently kisses my forehead.
“I’m ready to talk now.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No. I just want to talk.”
“Zane, we don’t have to talk now. You don’t need to stress yourself. I’m probably the cause of this anyway.”
“Lana, stop. Everything collided at once. It was the perfect storm. We failed each other. The question is, do we fix it or move on? I know what I want to do, but I want to hear how you feel.”
“I don’t want to move on, but what I did was wrong. How can you ever forgive me?”
“We need to forgive each other. I want you to be my wife, and when you told the doctor you were my fiancée, you weren’t wrong. You are. That’s how I think of you. We have a long road ahead of us and many things to get straightened out, but I’m up for the challenge if you are.”
