Elena's POV:
"Elena," someone calls. It's distant, muffled.
"Elena," the same voice calls out again, and I stir in my sleep.
It's not until I'm tapped on the shoulder before I jump up, sitting straight.
My eyes scan the room, frantic and still dazed from sleep, until they land on Lucia.
I place a hand on my chest to calm my breathing. "God, Lucia, you startled me."
"Good morning to you too, Mrs. Elena." There's a wide smile on her face, and I wonder why she's smiling so hard.
I follow her line of gaze, and that's when I realize that Adrian is still laid up on my thigh. Warmth spreads to my cheek.
"Lucia, it's not what you think," I rush to clear the air. "Adrian fainted last night."
The expression on her face quickly morphs to that of confusion and worry.
"He did what?" she asks with creased brows.
"I was watching TV last night," I half-lie. "And then the door opened and I saw him standing there. I noticed something was off about him, and I was right, because the next moment he collapsed."
"Oh dear, was it that serious?" She crouches down on her weak knees and skims a hand over Adrian's forehead. "He's warm, but the fever's still there."
Her eyes shift to the bowl of water and towel on the table. "You nursed him?"
"I...uhh, there was no one else to do it."
"Thank you, darling," she smiles up at me, and I return it with a wry smile of mine.
"Go freshen up. I'll call Dr. Reyes to come and take a look at him," she adds. "I'd like to see how he'll refuse treatment in this state," she frowns at him.
I snicker, then stand and gather the bowl and the towel while Lucia heads for the landline.
Before leaving, I take one last look at Adrian. His breathing is shallow, but a bit of color has returned to his face.
By the time Dr. Reyes arrives, Adrian is already awake, propped weakly against the headboard in his room.
Dr. Reyes seems like a middle-aged man. He carries himself like someone with experience and speaks so too, with that calm, practiced tone.
He clears his throat before he speaks. "When was the last time you had proper rest, Mr. Moretti?"
Adrian doesn't answer. He just glares at the man, though his silence speaks for him.
"Your fever is still running high," he continues. "It's only calmed down, but it doesn't mean it won't return."
"I don't have time to rest. I have important things that need to be.."
"If I listen to you talk about work again, you're going to be in serious trouble." Lucia pinches him in the arm.
That alone quiets him, but there's a scowl on his face. I stifle a smile at how cute it makes him look.
Wait, what?
"Your rest is important, Mr. Moretti. You're on the verge of total burnout. I'll prescribe some antibiotics and something to bring the fever down. But you have to know that all these will turn out useless if you don't catch a break. So no work, no stress, for at least three days."
"You're joking," Adrian scoffs. "You expect me to just lie in bed, doing nothing for three whole days, because of a mere fever?"
"Need I remind you, I am Don, and I have responsibilities to fulfill, so no. I won't be resting for three days. I'll take the medicine, and I'll be fine."
I want to tell him that he's being impractical and that it's just three days, but I'm scared that if I speak, I might just upset him more.
"Adrian," Lucia calls. "When are you going to start taking your health seriously? I urged you to go see a doctor, and you refused. Then last night you ended up fainting, leaving poor Elena to take care of you, wiping your body for you, like you're a child!"
His eyes shoot to mine.
Fuck! Lucia could have just kept quiet.
His gaze is intense, blue eyes piercing into mine with curiosity. It's like he wants to say something. But then he just looks away.
I sigh internally, feeling a sudden wave of disappointment.
"You're going to do exactly as the doctor says, and I'm going to make sure of it. I've had enough of your stubbornness," Lucia hisses.
Dr. Reyes hides a smile while scribbling some notes on a pad. "Monitor his temperature. If it spikes again, call me immediately."
"Of course, doctor." Lucia nods attentively.
"All right then. I'll be off now." He turns to Adrian. "Mr. Moretti," he bows his head slightly, but Adrian just grumbles something inaudible.
"I'll see you out," Lucia says, following behind him.
It's only me and him in the room now. The air feels hot all of a sudden.
I should probably leave. I turn and head towards the door.
"You know, you didn't have to—"
"I know," I cut him short, my hand pausing on the doorknob. "But I wouldn't also leave a sick man on the cold floor throughout the night."
"Elena..."
I pull the door open and step out before he can say any other thing. My back rests on his door, as I try to catch my breath.
I don't need his fake appreciations. I'll be just fine without them.
Hours later, Lucia is packing up to close for the day. "Make sure to check on him later," she tells me as she shuffles through her bag, looking for something I don't know.
"Ohhh, I almost forgot," she stops searching and goes over to the kitchen counter, carrying a cup with her on her way back.
"What's that?" I ask.
"It's for Adrian. It'll make him feel better. I need you to give this to him for me."
"Me?" My brows shoot up. Last time I did as she asked, it backfired real bad.
"Uhmm....I think you should give it to him yourself, Lucia. He probably won't drink it if I take it to him." I try convincing her.
"Why not? Of course he will. He heard what the doctor said, so he's going to start acting right if he plans on resuming work soon."
"Yeah," I clear my throat. "But I still think you should do it yourself. I don't want to upset him with my presence."
"Ohh, c'mon. What is the worst that could happen? It's just medicine."
"Ohh, trust me, Lucia. You don't wanna know."
"Well," she places the cup in front of me. "You'll have to do it yourself," she says while grabbing her bags.
"Lucia, no, I really can't..."
"You can," she mutters as she starts to head for the door.
"Are you seriously leaving?!" I call after her, but she doesn't respond.
I drop my head low, palming my face with both hands, and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Fuck me."
I don't know how, but I finally found the courage to take it up to him. Outside his door, I look up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath, before knocking softly on the wooden frame.
"Come in," his deep, barrel voice sounds through.
I push the door open and step in, closing it gently behind me. When I lift my face again, I'm bewildered.
He's sitting at the edge of his bed, laptop propped up on his knees as he operates it.
"What are you doing?" I ask questionably.
"Working," his tone is clipped.
"I can see that," I frown, walking over and placing the medicine by the bedside. "Why are you working? Doctor Reyes said no work for three days."
"I don't give a fuck about whatever Doctor Reyes said." His eyes are still fixed on his laptop screen.
"Adrian, you're not fully recovered. You need to rest."
"That's exactly what I'm doing," he finally lifts his head to me, catching me with a lazy gaze. "I'm not doing anything stressful, am I?"
"Butit's still work."
"I can assure you," he glances at the laptop, "this is nothing."
"Still, you.."
"I appreciate your concern, Elena, but I don't need you policing my movements or telling me how to handle my work."
"I'm not policing your movements," I retort. "Lucia won't like this."
He raises a brow at me as if to say, Who gives a fuck about what Lucia likes?
"I'd like to get back to my work, please," he says, taking his attention back to his laptop screen.
"Adrian—"
"Elena." It's a warning, and his tone is final.
I swallow. It's not worth fighting with him over something he still wouldn't agree to.
I let out a deep sigh, frowning. "Fine. Do what you want." I turn and leave the room without another word, suddenly swarmed with anger.
He just always finds a way to piss me the fuck off. I mean, it's just three fuckin' days, no one is going to die from that!
Anytime I try to help him, he shuts me down. Even when Lucia told him about how I had nursed him through the night, I had expected him to say something. Anything.
But he didn't. He just stared. And he couldn't even hold it either. He quickly averted his eyes like he was irritated or something.
I've never met anyone as aggravating as he is. I thought Dad was something, but Adrian? He's a fucking mood wrecker.
Once I reach my room, I close the door hard behind me.
"ahh!" I shriek with my hands by my side. "Get sick and die for all I care!"
But later, as I lie in bed, I feel the urge to check on him. See if he's doing better. Or if he drank the medicine Lucia made for him.
I turn on my bed, switching positions, unable to bring myself to sleep.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I worried about a man that is disgusted by my very presence? About a man that despises me, in a way that makes me want to despise him more?
He's never cared for me, nor treated me right. Even when I try to make things civil between us, he always turns me down.
Given the conditions for this union, it would help if we were at least cordial and not living like strangers in the same home.
And yet, here I am, unable to sleep because I don't know if he's fine.
Well, fuck me.
I drape my blanket over my head and close my eyes tight, evading every thought of him, as I will myself to sleep.
I won't allow myself to be stressed over this man. I can't.
They say play too close to fire and get burned by it. And I can't afford to get burned.