Theodore's tantrum

The bedroom door clicked shut behind Bella. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she collapsed on the bed. A jolt of panic replaced her relief as she suddenly remembered something.

The mysterious man!

She had completely forgotten about their meeting.

"Oh, shit!" A curse tumbled from her lips as she smacked her forehead. "I was supposed to meet him." She had specifically told him to find her at the restaurant, but no one approached her.

Had he not recognized her and simply left?

Lost in conversation with her friends, she hadn't even checked her phone for messages. Maybe he had tried to contact her.

Grabbing her phone, she scrolled frantically, hoping to see a flurry of messages or missed calls. But there were none.

A frown creased her brow.

"Strange! It seems he hasn't come there," she reasoned. But she needed her pendant back. "I need to set up another meeting with him."

Just as she began to compose a message, a shrill ring shattered the silence. It was her work phone.

Skyler again.

The frown deepened into a scowl. Every time Theodore had something to say, it was his perky assistant who relayed the message. Couldn't he ever communicate directly?

The urge to unleash a verbal tirade rose in her chest, but she quelled it. Theodore had, after all, helped her in her time of need. Aside from that, their relationship was temporary – it was best to maintain a distance from him and avoid emotional entanglements.

Taking a deep breath, she answered the call. "Hello…"

"Bella," Skyler's voice chirped, "you need to come to the villa right away. Mr. Reid has a fever."

"What did you say? A fever?" Concern lanced through Bella, momentarily eclipsing her annoyance.

"He has no one else to look after him," Skyler continued. "Come and take care of him."

Bella hesitated, but she reminded herself that Theodore was still her husband. She had a responsibility to him.

"Alright," she sighed. "I'm on my way." Hanging up, she grabbed her bag and rushed out the door.

She hailed a cab to the villa, her thoughts a whirlwind of concern and anticipation. She had no idea why she was panicking. An urge to reach him as quickly as possible made her restless.

It took half an hour for her to arrive at the villa. Bursting through the doors, she found Skyler hovering beside Theodore, who occupied the center of the bed, propped against the headboard like a disgruntled monarch.

Their gazes met, and a jolt shot through Bella.

Theodore's eyes, sharp as obsidian shards, held no trace of illness. For a bewildered moment, Bella found herself rooted to the spot, transfixed by the dark depths.

"Ah, you've arrived at last," Skyler chimed in, pushing himself up to his feet and approaching Bella. "I have given him medication – the fever shouldn't linger much longer."

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "He is inebriated, on top of the fever. Not in the best of moods. Tread carefully. Don't do anything to anger him further. Listen to him and follow his commands."

A knot of unease tightened in Bella's stomach. Skyler's words felt less like advice and more like a veiled warning.

"I must be going," he continued, a hint of urgency creeping into his tone. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

With a final, lingering glance at Theodore, Skyler exited the room, leaving Bella alone with her enigmatic husband.

Bella stood awkwardly, studying him, unsure of her next move.

Sensing her hesitation, Theodore let out a disgruntled groan, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. They were married already. Why was she hesitating to be with him?

"My head hurts," he muttered with displeasure. "Can't you do something about it?"

Bella jolted back to reality. "Y-yes, of course," she stammered. "I'll get started on some sober soup right away." With that, she scurried out of the room.

Theodore's gaze narrowed into a slit as the door clicked shut behind Bella. He could clearly tell she was not comfortable around him. It was frustrating and, at the same time, intriguing. Theodore wanted to know if she had someone else in her heart, just like Isabella.

Unlike the women who typically fawned over him, desperate to slither into his bed, Bella felt different. She had indeed married him for money, but she didn't seem to be interested in him.

'Maybe she likes someone else,' the thought festered, darkening his already foul mood. 'Zack, perhaps?' A silent snarl twisted his features as he clenched his jaw.

Bella finally came back with a bowl of steaming soup. "The sober soup is ready," she announced, setting the bowl on the side table. "Drink some. It'll help with the headache."

Theodore grimaced, the suspicion of Zack's presence souring his stomach even further. The soup held no appeal. "I don't want it."

Bella thought he was like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. For a fleeting moment, she considered leaving him to stew in his self-pity. But since he was ill, she said nothing. She simply sat down beside him.

Scooping a spoonful of soup, she gently blew across it to cool it down.

Theodore looked at her, stunned and dazed. This was something he had not expected. The simple act, imbued with a quiet care, chipped away at his annoyance. 

"Here," she coaxed gently, bringing the spoon closer to his lips.

Theodore hesitated, his eyes flicking between the spoon and her face. The tender look in her eyes made his heart beat faster.

He opened his mouth and accepted the spoonful of soup, his eyes locked on hers. Each spoonful of soup seemed to melt a little of his irritation, replaced by a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

Bella continued feeding him patiently, her focus solely on getting him to consume the soup. When a stray droplet trickled down his chin, she quickly took a tissue and wiped it without hesitation.

Theodore found her gesture intimate, and something that he didn't know existed awoke. His hand clamped down on her wrist all of a sudden. "What do you think you're doing?" he rasped.

A flicker of something akin to desire ignited within him, a yearning to hear something positive, a validation of their marriage, anything to soothe the disquiet gnawing at him. He didn't know what he craved exactly, but he wanted her to say something nice.

"I am not trying anything," she said defiantly. "I wouldn't have to feed you if you had drunk on your own."

All the hope and excitement he had just felt vanished. His features twisted with a grimace of disappointment.

"My head still hurts," he whined, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Bella reached out, her cool hand landing gently on his forehead. Her cold hand against his hot skin made him flinch.

"Your hand is as cold as ice," he grumbled, the petulance back in full force.

Bella fought the urge to roll her eyes. Squashing the irritation, she issued a calm instruction. "The fever has not subsided yet. Lie down. I'll get a wet cloth for your forehead. It'll help bring it down faster."

Theodore, a man accustomed to barking orders and having them followed without question, found himself inexplicably compelled to obey Bella. With a disgruntled sigh, but a surprising lack of resistance, he complied with her like a docile child. Bella, wasting no time, placed the cool, damp napkin on his forehead.

Initially, he recoiled with a sharp intake of breath. Yet, as the coolness seeped into his skin, a wave of relief washed over him. His tense muscles relaxed, and his eyelids began to droop. Soon, his ragged breaths morphed into soft snores as sleep claimed him.

Though drained by the day's events, Bella remained vigilant. She diligently changed the damp napkin as it warmed. Yawns wracked her body. Finally, succumbing to exhaustion, she drifted off to sleep beside him.