CHAPTER 26 - HOME, SWEET HOME

My alarm went off at eight a.m., and I was barely able to open my eyes. I found myself drained of energy. I contemplated skipping the entire morning, however; it was simply not practicable. I needed to be present today, considering it was the last day we had to shoot at the shopping mall. It appeared absurd even to ask Nathaniel. Maybe he would allow me to take the leave, but I wasn't that inconsiderate.

I got up groaning, but my attitude rapidly lightened after I spotted Eugene sleeping peacefully. I went ahead and checked his temperature, and even though he still had his fever, the reading was significantly lower than before.

I had to be at the location by 10; therefore, I had enough time to prepare his meals and get ready before leaving. While brushing my teeth, I warmed the leftover porridge from the previous day and toasted a few slices of bread with butter. I messaged Sara and informed her I might have to keep the car for today as well, and she readily agreed. She even offered to let me have it until the end of the shoot. I expressed my gratitude and then went to take a hot shower.

After munching on almost burned toast, I gulped down a Vitamin C supplement since I had no desire to fall sick. It would cause too much hassle if I got the flu before he recovered completely. Keeping an eye on the time, I finished getting dressed and entered his room at 9.20, raising the blinds in order to let in the early daylight.

Eugene continued to remain deep asleep, and I wasn't keen on awakening him, but he needed to take his medication on time.

"Eugene, wake up."

On hearing me, he stirred slightly before drifting back to sleep. He started snoring gently and looked completely at ease. I approached him and patted his shoulder twice before tugging his tousled locks away from his forehead.

"Eugene, get up. You need to take the meds."

I said it again, a little louder this time. He grunted and shifted before partially opening his eyes to look around.

"Huh?"

He inquired, and he looked baffled to see me on his bed. Hearing his morning weary voice mingled with the sore throat caused me to almost swoon. I am a sick pervert, God.

"Get up."

I stated, hurriedly rushing over to the vanity table to pick up the plate of food. I am not sure if I am capable of staring at him without my gaze deceiving me. After all, he was shirtless, and the sensation of his soft skin under my fingertips was still fresh. I heard the bed creak and strolled up to him with the meal after I was convinced I wouldn't have hungry eyes on me anymore.

"Where's my shirt?"

He wondered out loud, rubbing his chin, and I noticed that his bed hair looked adorable. Hilarious yet adorable. It resembled a bird's nest.

"I removed it to wipe your body. Besides, it was soaking with your sweat."

I anticipated him to be upset, possibly humiliated, but all he did was nod his head and drift off. Great, he still doesn't have his senses, which wasn't entirely a bad thing.

"Here, have this."

I handed him the porridge, which he took clumsily, but the metal spoon slid from his grasp onto the bowl, splattering the mushy contents across his abdomen and the blanket.

"Sorry."

He muttered and appeared to be close to falling unconscious again.

I removed the dish from his frail fingers and cleaned the food from the comforter and his body with a few Kleenex. I was careful not to make any sort of skin contact as I was already feeling fairly intimate with him on the bed, without a shirt, and us acting like an old couple. It was overwhelming, and contrary to my expectations of married life, I kind of liked it, which in turn started freaking me out.

"Let me help you."

I fed him the porridge, ignoring his insistence that he was full halfway through it. I kept feeding him, and after I was certain that he had eaten enough, I cleaned his mouth and offered him a glass of warm water along with his medications.

I also assisted him to the restroom before tucking him under the comforter.

"Get some more rest. I'll check in on you during my breaks. Contact me at any time you need. I've placed your phone on the table here."

He grumbled something nonsensical before settling back down and retiring to sleep. He was suffering because of my recklessness, and though I felt guilty, I wouldn't change anything if I could reverse time to last night.

I left without bolting the front door, just in case I required somebody from the resort to inspect him in between. I arrived at the location fifteen minutes late and had to rush through the whole thing.

I texted Eugene before noon to see if his condition was all right, and since the message wasn't even viewed, I figured he was still asleep. However, I began to get concerned. I couldn't help but be anxious that he would go to the bathroom by himself and slip, or maybe collapse. The worst-case possibilities raced through my mind at all times, and I was unable to focus on anything.

"You're looking shitty."

Carla remarked, sitting across from me while her makeup artist reapplied the fake blood on the base of her neck.

"I'm feeling shitty."

I grimaced as I glanced at my watch. It was 2:30 p.m., and he was supposed to take his medication at three p.m. I've placed some fruits, bread, and oatmeal on the dressing table, but I suspect he's not in a position to get to them on his own.

"If you sigh one more time, I might kick you out of here."

Carla stated it flatly, and that's when I recognized that I had been sighing a lot today.

"I'm afraid I can't help it. I didn't get to sleep last night and..."

My excuses were cut short as there had been a loud burst, which elicited a few startled screams from the vicinity, after which we spotted smoke blowing out from one of the fluorescent lights.

"Shit!"

I heard someone curse as technicians gathered around the affected set of lights.

"The circuit to the entire light is burned up. It would require roughly an hour to repair it. Please accept my apologies for the inconvenience."

One of the experts came over to us and apologized before heading to the next group of people, and I just grinned at his retrieving figure. It felt as though luck was finally on my side for once.

"That's okay. Please take your time."

I called out after him, though I doubt he heard it. Never mind.

"Where are you going?"

Carla queried as I jumped up from my chair and grabbed my purse for the set of keys delivered to me by Sara.

"I have to go home for a while. I'll be back before they fix whatever it is."

Without waiting for an answer from her, I dashed out through the mall entrance and made it to my cottage in record time.

I instantly noticed the silence as I closed the door behind me. I stepped inside Eugene's room, and my stiff shoulders sagged in relief when I saw that he was still in bed. I even went ahead and watched his torso expand and contract, ensuring my twenty-seven-year-old ass that he was still breathing. I have never been this worried about anyone except my close friends and family before. It was unsettling how a complete outsider was making me feel things I vowed I would never feel. He was slowly becoming my weakness. He continually made me reconsider my entire list of principles. However, I can't deny that his presence also gave me a sense of aliveness.

I didn't waste any time in waking him up and feeding him some chicken porridge, as carbohydrates and protein were the only foods that would provide him the energy he needed, and I also refilled the thermos with warm water. He looked considerably better after taking the medicine, and his body temperature had returned to normal.

"Did you not go to work?"

He asked sleepily, and I shrugged.

"It's lunch break. How are you feeling?"

I inquired while wiping the excess moisture out of the corners of his mouth. His lips were chapped and dry, with cracks. And yet it appeared to be incredibly kissable. What was I thinking? He's a patient.

"Better. I don't feel like I am dying anymore, all thanks to you, Doc."

Eugene responded, and I chuckled, relieved that he was still fit enough to make humorous remarks. He yawned yet again, and I noted his eyelids drooping. Given that the drug he's on contains some sedatives, it's only natural for him to sleep a lot.

"Get back to sleep. I'll try to leave early today."

He gave me a thumbs up and then wrapped himself with a blanket, adjusting his head comfortably on the pillow. He must be really feeling well. He was still bare-chested, by the way, and apparently wasn't at all uncomfortable being so vulnerable around me. The amount of trust he had in me was surprising. I am forever thankful that he doesn't know what mental images run through the back of my mind whenever I catch the trail of hair that shies down his low-hanging pants or the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down each time he gulps down something. If he does, he will most definitely flee from me.

Before heading out, I retrieved the Oreo cookies that I had bought for the rest of them, and this time, I did lock the front door. Once I returned to the mall, I shared the biscuits among Nathaniel, Carla, Kim, and a few other staff members. The second half of the day dragged along at a snail's pace, and by the time we wrapped up, it was 6:45 p.m.

"I appreciate all of your efforts for the past two days. All staff members may take the entire day off tomorrow, except the production and design divisions. The following sequence is scheduled to be filmed inside the airport. Thank you."

As Nathaniel announced that we were going to have a day off, I was ecstatic. On the way back, I picked up some rusk and other treats that a sick person could possibly eat without triggering the flu, and I was whistling as I strolled towards my cottage, swinging the plastic bags. It seemed nice to have somebody at home, even though I preferred spending time without company. When Lorraine was with me, I acted similarly, but I doubt I was this energetic or hyperactive. Maybe it's because I am physically drawn to Eugene, and Lorraine was like my sister.

The entryway to the bedroom was ajar, and light was streaming out through it. I left the shopping bags on the counter and crept into his room, expecting to see his sleeping form on the bed. Instead, my stomach sank when I discovered that the space was deserted.

Did he actually leave me without saying anything? The pang of disappointment that came over me was beyond comprehension. It seemed as though there was an emptiness in my heart. Is this typical? No, it isn't. The folded bed sheet sneered sinisterly at me, and the rinsed dishes on the bedside table ridiculed me for having even the slightest expectation. I remained there motionless, fighting back the tears that were desperately attempting to be released.

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened behind me, and I whirled around, only to see Eugene standing there with a towel draped over his neck and wearing my sweatshirt.

"You're home?"

He asked, slowly beaming at me; however, I felt too drained to give an answer. My own emotions were frustrating me, and the sense of relief I felt upon seeing him startled me. Everything was starting to get out of my hands. I had grown extremely attached to this man, and I had no idea how to stop myself without hurting both of us.

"Are you okay? You look so pale."

I do not know what I was thinking, but at the time I was too frazzled to resist my own impulses and simply flung my arms around him and held him close. Every part of him froze up, and I am convinced he even ceased breathing.

"River..."

He let out and made an effort to slide his arms in front of him, but I quickly tightened my grip around the back of his neck, leaving no room between us. The sensation of his heart pounding against my chest felt like a melody to my ears. After all, I wasn't the only one affected by our embrace.

"Please, stay still. I am too tired."

I mumbled against the crook of his neck, and I was taken aback when he actually listened to me. Despite his health issues, he stayed there, and I think I melted into a puddle as he raised his hand and stroked my hair before placing his other hand on my right shoulder. It was probably a friendly hug on his part, but I have never felt more belonged before. Here, in his arms, it felt like home.

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