I gave her my inhaler, and she uses it when she can’t catch her breath. Each day, I make her three meals, and though she doesn’t have an appetite, she eats some of it to appease me. There were a few nights when I was worried as fuck about her because she sounded like she was choking, and all I could do was wait it out. I was so fucking helpless watching her, wishing I could do more but knowing I couldn’t.
Each night, I lie next to her until her breathing steadies, and then she finally falls asleep. Her coughing has subsided, and lately, we’ve slept until the sun wakes us.
This morning, I roll over to see Cami looking at me with a sweet smile.
“I could get used to this,” she says in a low voice.
“To what?” I clear my throat.
“Waking up with you in my bed,” she admits, and if she wouldn’t freak out, I’d kiss her the way I’ve imagined for the past ten days. Our lips haven’t touched once, and she’s been adamant about me keeping some distance, though at this moment, we’re only inches apart. I watch her chest rise and fall, and I’m tempted but don’t. “You hungry?”
She nods. I slide the blankets off and stand, grabbing the thermometer and handing it to her. After she places it in her mouth, we wait for it to beep. She removes it and glances at the reading, then grins.
“No fever,” she whispers, turning it around to show me.
“Finally.” I let out a relieved breath. “You beat it, Cami.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and open my arms, and she falls into them.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, noticing she’s upset.
She lets out a sigh. “I’m just happy and worried all at the same time. I’m feeling a little better, but I’m so goddamn concerned about you.”
Gently pushing away, I carefully wipe the tear that spills down her cheek. All I want to do is comfort her. “I’ve been counting down the days. I might be in the clear.”
“It could take longer than that.” Her head lowers. “Up to three weeks sometimes.”
I lift her chin with my finger, forcing her to look at me, then smile. “I’m thinking positive. And now that you’re feeling like a billion bucks, let’s get you fed.”
“Hardy har har.” Cami stands, and I notice how frail she is as she yanks the sheets and blankets off the mattress and holds them in her arms. “I need to disinfect this room.”
“Don’t overdo it. You’ve not been fever-free for twenty-four hours yet,” I remind her, grabbing the linens. I snicker at the thought of her using the washing machine, and she notices.
“What’s so funny?”
I shake my head as I leave her room and head toward the laundry room downstairs. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”
I’ve done laundry a couple of times now, making sure she had clean clothes and changing out of mine twice a day to be on the safe side. One of these days, I’ll make her do it for shits and giggles, but she’s still not one hundred percent yet, even if she thinks she is.
Cami texts me and lets me know she’s going to take a shower. I send her a thumbs-up emoji as I stuff the big fluffy blanket and sheets into the wash. Knowing she’s feeling better has me hopeful that if I get sick, I’ll be able to recover too. While I hope I’m just asymptomatic, I’m not holding my breath. It’s not like I could anyway, my asthma wouldn’t allow it, though it hasn’t been flaring up as much since I’ve been here.
After I pour the detergent in and start the cycle, I go to the kitchen and grab a skillet and pull out the ingredients to make breakfast. The cabin still has plenty of food, probably enough to last another two weeks. While I wish we could get back to normal by then, I’m convinced it won’t be that soon.
As I’m frying sausage links, Cami appears and looks around. “Wow, it’s super clean in here. Feels weird to be down here after all this time.”
“You know who my mother is,” I remind her. “I learned a thing or two growing up. A person should never go to bed with a sink full of dirty dishes or a filthy floor.”
Cami laughs. “You’re close with your mom, aren’t you?”
I crack the eggs in a bowl and whip them together, sprinkling in cheese, onions, and mushrooms. “Absolutely. One day, I hope to repay her for all the sacrifices she made for Ava and me. I know being a single mother wasn’t easy, but she gave us the best she could, and we turned out okay.” I look over my shoulder at her and wink.
“You did,” she says, and I can’t stop grinning. How could a woman like her even think about being with a man like me? “You were always well-mannered, too.”
Turning on the burner, I put oil in the pan, swirling it around until it’s covered, then dump the ingredients inside. It sizzles and pops. “Well, no, not always,” I tell her. “I went to the principal’s office quite a lot in high school. Trust me when I say you didn’t miss much.”
She huffs. “I wish I could’ve experienced public school. You were lucky to have a normal life. I’ve dreamed about what it must be like.”
I tilt my head. “And there are a billion reasons people would switch places with you.”
“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be, Eli. Money doesn’t buy happiness, and it sure as hell can’t buy love or normalcy. Sure, there are perks, but being a St. James has done nothing but cause me problems, honestly. Why do you think Ryan went to med school?”
I already know the answer to this question, but I stay silent.
“To make a name for himself, to break out of being more than an heir. I somewhat envy him for choosing a path outside of the family
