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Chapter thirty-nine

Silas

Reminder to self: KEEP MEDICINE OUT OF MINNIE’S REACH!

~ Three Weeks Later / Mid-June ~

Cecilia was right. When the media found out about the whole baby orchestration, it became mayhem.

Everywhere I went, the media was there demanding answers.

I was splashed over every cover of every gossip magazine.

They even came to the house a few times in search of Minnie to know how she was dealing with this.

Somehow, they found out just a few days after Cecilia showed up at the house. And they’re just now starting to back off since I made a public statement yesterday about the whole thing.

My agent, Barry, got me a live interview with a reporter so that I could answer all their questions and tell my story. I was reluctant at first, but it was getting out of control, and the way people were twisting things was pissing me off.

There was even a rumor that Cecilia was the mastermind behind the whole scheme, and it was a way for her to get more money out of me. I have no idea how they even came up with these ideas, but that one was just absurd.

She’s my wife, and we didn’t sign a prenup. If she wanted my money, she could have just divorced me and taken half of everything.

All that aside, these past three weeks have been pretty great.

I see my girl practically every day, whether it’s her coming to me or me going to her.

We often walk Milo together in the morning, and then I either have a date planned for us in the evening or we just hang out and watch a movie while eating takeout.

Today, with the reporters finally backing off, I have a whole day of activities planned for us.

But Cecilia hasn’t been answering her phone and didn’t come over to walk Milo.

At first, I thought maybe she slept in or didn’t see her phone, but it’s been a couple of hours now, and I’m getting worried.

Which is why I’m heading over to Clay and Morgan’s to check up on her.

I park my car beside Cecilia’s just as the front door opens and Clay appears with his keys in hand, heading to his car. “This is getting ridiculous. You’re here more often than at your own place. Should I be expecting you to move in, too?”

“Very funny. Have you seen my wife? She hasn’t been answering her phone and didn’t show up this morning,” I ask, walking backwards toward the pool house where Cecilia’s been living.

He frowns and shakes his head. “Not since last night when she came back from your place.”

“Hmm, okay, well I’m gonna go check on her, make sure she’s all right. I’ll let you know.” I turn back the right way with a wave and make my way to Minnie’s apartment.

I ring the bell, but after a minute, nothing happens, so I knock a few times as well. Still nothing. “Minnie? It’s me. Are you okay? Open up.”

I wait a bit, having rung the bell again, but she doesn’t answer or come to the door. I’m getting this bad feeling in my stomach, and I feel my anxiety rising.

I try the doorknob, and to my luck, it turns. I open it slowly, not wanting to scare her if she didn’t hear me. Although that would be impossible with the banging and ringing, plus the shouting through the door.

“Baby?” For a moment, there isn’t a sound to be heard, but then I hear it. A deep groan coming from... the bathroom.

“Minnie? Are you okay?” I walk over to the door and knock lightly, then put my ear to the door.

It’s silent for a beat, and then the sound of someone hurling comes through, making me take a step back from the door. I quickly recover and push the door open, looking inside.

Cecilia kneels on the floor, hugging the toilet bowl while she empties her stomach into it.

I rush over and crouch down beside her, rubbing her back.

I then gather her hair and reach over to the vanity to grab a hair tie, quickly securing it up in a loose bun.

I grab some toilet paper as she finishes and pass it to her.

“Oh God, Silas. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t need to see this,” she grumbles, eyes closed while she rests her head on the side of the bowl.

“Of course, I need to be here. I’m your husband, Cecilia. It’s my job to take care of you when you’re sick.”

I brush the strands of hair I missed out of her sweaty, pale face and place them behind her ear, then bring my lips to her forehead to check her temperature. It’s something my mother always did and said it was the best way to check if someone had a fever without a thermometer.

“Baby, you’re burning up. Do you have a thermometer here?” I continue stroking her back.

She shakes her head from side to side, then groans and squeezes her eyes shut tightly.

“Okay, I’ll check if Morgan’s home and get her to bring one down here. We need to check your temperature because I’m pretty sure you have a fever. How long have you been feeling like this?”

“Around two in the morning I started feeling funny, so I came to the bathroom and never left.” Her voice is hoarse from the hours of puking she’s undergone.

“You’ve been here since two!? You should have called me or even Clay.

” She cringes at my heightened voice. She probably has a headache on top of everything.

I lower my voice as I continue. “Sorry. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do.

If you think you’re done being sick for now, we’re gonna get you to bed so you can lie down.

I’ll bring you a bowl in case you get sick again.

And I’ll see if I can get a thermometer and some medication. ”

“I don’t think I can stand.” She places her hands on either side of the toilet seat in an attempt to raise herself but doesn’t even lift off the floor.

“No, don’t force yourself. Let me take care of you.” I reposition myself not to lose balance as I manage to pick her up with one hand under her knees and the other around her shoulders.

She wraps her arms around her stomach tightly and curls herself inwards against my chest, head resting beneath my chin. She looks so small and frail in this moment, it makes my heart ache.

I carry her over to the bedroom and lay her down, bringing the comforter over her when I notice she’s shivering despite her burning sweaty flesh.

Once she seems settled, I rush to the kitchen and grab a big mixing bowl.

Then I head back into the bathroom and wet a washcloth with cold water before returning by her side.

I settle it over her forehead and place the bowl beside the bed.

She closes her eyes and seems to relax a bit. Good. I kiss her temple and pull out my phone, then step just outside of the room, to not cause Minnie a bigger headache, while I talk to Morgan over the phone.

Turns out, Morgan was home. Thank God, because I had no intentions of leaving my girl’s side . After telling Morgan about Minnie’s state, she ran to the store to get me everything I needed to help my wife get back to normal.

Twenty minutes later, there’s a soft knock at the door. I get up from my spot on the armchair in Minnie’s room and head to the front door, where Morgan waits on the other side patiently.

“Thank you, you’re a godsend.” I grab the bag from her hands.

“It’s no problem, how is she?” We keep our voices hushed to not disturb Minnie.

“She doesn’t look too great, but she hasn’t been sick since I put her to bed. Although she’s still shivering. She just fell asleep, so I’m gonna wait a bit before waking her up to drink and take some medication.”

“Okay, good. If there’s anything you need, just call and I’ll rush over. I’m working from my home office, so I’ll be here all day.” She kisses my cheek and goes to turn when I think of something that I may need her help with.

“Wait, there’s actually something you could do for me, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything.”

“I left Milo at home. Do you think you could go pick him up and bring him back here? I don’t know how long Cecilia will be sick, and I don’t want to leave her side.”

“Of course, I’ll get him right away. We’ll keep him at the house so you don’t have to think about taking him out and can just focus on your girl.” She smiles and walks away.

“Thank you!” I whisper shout as she waves behind her head.

I head back in, depositing the bag on the kitchen counter and taking everything out.

There are several types of cold medicine, some in liquid form, others in tablets.

There are also bottles of acetaminophen and ibuprofen, heating pads, cold compresses, and a temporal thermometer.

Morgan even bought chicken broth and a few sports drinks with electrolytes. She really thought of everything.

I grab the thermometer and return to Cecilia. She’s still asleep, so I remove the wet cloth and swipe the little hairs away from her forehead. I wait a minute or two for her forehead to return to its actual temperature since the wet cloth was cooling it down.

Once I think it’s safe to take an accurate reading, I position the thermometer over her forehead. It only takes about two seconds to show up. 103F. Shit, that’s pretty high. But not high enough to necessitate medical help. I’ll have to keep that under watch.

I bring the washcloth to the bathroom, rinsing it off with cold water and returning it to Cecilia.

I give her another thirty minutes before waking her up to take some cold medicine and make her drink a bit of water.

She groans and grumbles while I sit her up long enough to drink and take the medication.

“How are you feeling? How’s the headache?” I ask quietly.

The blinds are closed, stopping any sunlight from coming in. The light is also off, but she still keeps her eyes closed. “Like I’m dying,” she mutters, resting her head back on the pillow. “If I die, tell my husband I love him.” She brings an arm up over her eyes.

I chuckle at her dramatic words. Even sick, she still manages to find some sense of humor. Or maybe she’s too delusional to realize it’s me. “I’ll let him know. How about the headache?”