Chapter 19
“Ugh,” Madison groaned as a pile of papers she was supposed to grade fell from her desk, landing in a mess on the floor. She banged her head on the desk, immediately regretting it when the headache that she had learned to live with in the past few days raged back with a vengeance.
March had arrived, and with the end of the year getting closer, her amount of work had increased to alarming levels. On top of that, she had to focus on the clinical trials she was supposed to supervise as the head statistician, her new responsibility.
She had planned the weekend for some sweaty, messy, extremely satisfying tumbles in the sheets with a certain someone. Except her immune system had decided otherwise.
What she had thought was just a simple cold had actually been the flu. A big, awful, disgusting, snotty flu.
“I give up,” she breathed out, standing up and not even bothering to pick up the papers, too afraid she would just stumble over and die there, on the carpet of her living room. She made her way to her couch, blindly grabbing the blanket under the coffee table and snuggling herself in it as best as she could. She needed medicine, at least something for the fever, and something to ease her breathing. But there was no way she was in any state to head outside.
She was about to look for a supermarket or drugstore that would deliver the very much needed supplies when her phone buzzed.
Even seeing Ben’s name didn’t bring a smile to her lips, which was saying something. Usually, his texts never failed to brighten her day.
Ben - 5:15 PM - I spent the entire afternoon trying to come up with something smart and witty but all I managed was some very weird wordplay over the song My Sharona, which I replaced with My Madison, and my secretary walked in when I was rehearsing the part about your dirty mind and… well. I figured I should avoid song parodies. What are you doing tonight?
Madison - 5:17 PM - Dying. Or something.
Ben - 5:17 PM - That is either awfully dramatic or extremely specific. That bad?
Madison - 5:18 PM - Yeah. Everything hurts. Sorry I won’t be good company tonight.
Ben - 5:18 PM - You don’t sound so good. Anything I can do?
Madison - 5:19 PM - Unless you’re a Walgreens delivery guy, no.
Ben - 5:19 PM - We’re gonna save that naughty joke that is on the edge of my tongue for later. You need something from Walgreens?
Madison - 5:20 PM - Yes. Just the usual stuff, you know. I’m running short on some supplies and I feel too awful to go out. I hate this. UGH. I really hate this.
Ben - 5:21 PM - Alright. Don’t worry, I got you. Let me head to your place, I’ll pick up some stuff.
Oh no. She looked like a disaster. She was pretty sure there was some snot on her wardrobe, and her hair was a greasy mess. He couldn’t see her like that, she looked like a slob.
Madison - 5:22 PM - Oh no no no no. We’re not at that stage yet. I’m ugly and a mess, you’re not seeing me this way.
Ben - 5:22 PM - Jeez, Madison, I’m a grown ass man, I can handle it. Try to sleep, I’ve got this.
She really wanted to protest, but just the short conversation had seemed to drain her of her strength. She dropped her phone on the coffee table, rolled over and started to doze off, blowing her nose every minute or so.
Tomorrow was Everleigh’s baby shower, and there was no way she could possibly attend. Not with her being so sick and putting her at risk, or even Chris. Everleigh was due in two weeks, and everything was finally ready for the little family. Now wasn’t the time to add germs and viruses to the equation.
The buzzing echoed through her apartment when she was mid-sneeze and she dragged herself through the small living room.
“It’s your knight in shining armor!”
She let him in, unlocked the door, then opened it just an inch before crawling back to her precious couch. She was shivering just from the short walk, and every single muscle was protesting the slightest move.
She was officially dying.
“Wow. I almost didn’t see you,” Ben said as he walked in. She heard the click of her lock next but couldn’t bring herself to lift her head to acknowledge him. “I had no idea it put you down that badly.”
Some shuffling was heard, then his legs appeared in front of her eyes until he sat down on the coffee table. “What do you need first? I have everything. Ibuprofen, heating pad, and a nice selection of tampons and pads. Last time I went there, it didn’t seem like there was so much stuff, by the way. Did they invent new products?”
… Pads?
Tampons?
“What are you talking about?” she croaked, coughing at the raspy sensation in her throat.
“You said you needed supplies. I got you stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yes. For your period. That’s what it is, right? Girls always say they need supplies during that time of the month. I even thought to get chocolate,” he added proudly.
“Oh my God.”
“I know. I’m kinda acing this thing, really. Don’t know why dudes make a fuss out of it. It’s expensive, though, crazy that you chicks have to spend so much money per month. How many boxes do you go through in one cycle? I wasn’t sure, so I grabbed about a dozen. Different brands, too. I know chicks are picky about that.”
“A dozen?” Her brain was slow, mushy, in constant pain, and his explanations made no sense in her current state. Except for the fact that somehow, he had gotten her sanitary pads for a reason that she wasn’t sure she understood. “Ben, why did you think I was on my period?”
“You said you felt like you were dying.”
She wished she could have gotten mad, but he also had a point. “I have the flu, dimwit,” was the answer she settled on.
“The flu?” He looked at her, blinking as if he wasn’t processing her words correctly. “What do you mean, the flu? I bought tampons, you can’t have the flu!”
“Well, I can, and I do!”
“But… damn. What am I gonna do with all these tampons? I can’t use them. I don’t have a vagina, Madison.”
She closed her eyes, burying her face in the cushion underneath her and praying for her patience and sanity to stay with her a little longer. “Ben, right now I’m about three seconds away from suggesting you shove them up your butt next time we have sex, so even though I’m touched you tried to help, and yes thank you very much for being considerate, can you also please, just please… stop talking? My head is going to explode.”
A part of her was feeling guilty about her snappiness, but she always had a short temper whenever she was ill. It was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted him to stop by. She sighed, trying to pull the blanket closer to her. She was exhausted. “I’m sorry, Ben. I didn’t mean to snap.”
“Shh. It’s OK, Pumpkin.” His voice was soft, and his hand deliciously cold and refreshing when he passed it on her forehead.
“Just close the door when you leave, and please tell Evie I’m sorry I can’t make it tomorrow,” she mumbled, already drifting away.
The last thing she heard was the door gently closing behind him, and then she was asleep.
It was dark when she woke up. The small light by the TV was on, glowing gently on its lowest setting, bathing the room in a faint, soothing yellow light. She blinked, confused for a few seconds. She was still on the couch, but her duvet was now on top of her.
“Hey, look who’s awake.”
She looked at the end of the couch, where Ben was playing on his phone. Her feet were on his lap, and it was telling of how out of it she was that she hadn’t even realized it.
“Ugh… what…”
“It’s almost ten. I got you some stuff. The right kind this time. I stocked your fridge as well.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“I figured. Just wanted to make sure you had something to eat just in case. There is a big container of chicken soup, another of green soup, bread and butter for toast, some fruits, and crackers. I got you some Gatorade as well to keep you hydrated.” He gently moved her feet then stood up, rolling his head in a circle as if trying to loosen the muscles. “First, you need some Tylenol. You’re burning up, but you seemed so tired, I couldn’t wake you up.”
He went to get her a glass of water, then handed her a couple of pills. She grimaced when she swallowed, her throat even more painful now.
“Thank you,” she eventually murmured. “And I’m sorry for-”
“It’s forgotten. I’m a lousy patient myself, so I’ll never judge anyone.” He gave her a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze on the ankle. “Do you want to take a bath? Or a shower?”
She felt so weak, she didn’t really want to. But she also felt disgusting and stinky, and in the end her pride won.
“Yeah, I could use a bath.”
With a nod, he headed to her bedroom, and a few minutes later, she heard the sound of running water in her tub.
“I used the eucalyptus salts, I figured it could help with your nose. But the water won’t be too warm, you need to break that fever.”
She nodded as she stood up. “That’s perfect, thanks.”
He helped her into the tub, something that embarrassed her tremendously. Getting naked in front of him to do the dirty was one thing, getting naked and showing her unshaven legs was a whole other thing. The reflection she saw on the mirror made things even worse. She was white as a sheet, with the biggest dark circles under her eyes, red, blotchy nose and cheeks, and pale, chapped lips. Her hair was hanging limply, oily and gross.
“This is awful,” she cried out as she sat down in the tepid water, hiding her face between her hands and feeling close to real tears. She didn’t want Ben to see her that way. They had a fun, casual relationship, and she didn’t want to ruin things between them and kill the lust or make him feel forced to do more than they had originally decided, which was hooking up exclusively together for the near future.
“Who’s dramatic now?” he asked with a chuckle before handing her a washcloth layered with soap. “Come on, get clean, you’ll feel so much better. I’m gonna change your sheets and then I’ll help you with your hair.”
“But Ben,” she whined. “I look awful.”
“You’re sick, of course you look awful.”
She burst into tears. She was so tired, and weak, and everything was hurting, and she was a gross, smelly mess of an ill woman while he was there, in his tailored shirt with rolled up sleeves, and she couldn’t even do anything with that amazingly appealing picture.
“Fuck… Pumpkin, don’t cry. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “It’s not you. I just hate being sick.”
“Just a few days and you’ll be as good as new.”
She nodded, then started to rub the washcloth over her arms. He observed her for a few seconds, before apparently judging she could be trusted to wash up without his supervision. It took forever, or so it seemed to her, but when he was finally back, she was resting against her tub, shivering and feeling as if she had just run a marathon.
Wordlessly, he grabbed the shower head then started to wash her hair, gently guiding her to lean forward, then backward, until the shampoo was gone. “I think we should pass on the conditioner,” he said softly before helping her up and wrapping her in a big, fluffy towel. She had one of those turban towels that he helped put on her head, and then he grabbed a smaller one to rub over her shoulders and arms. The shivers were making her teeth chatter. Even her knees seemed to be shaking, and she eventually gave up and leaned against him, resting her head over his chest as he carefully dried her upper back for her.
He held her against him, his hand gently stroking up and down her back, his chin resting on the top of her head. “I have to take you to bed,” he eventually whispered.
She nodded, then obediently lifted her arms when he presented her a pair of her thicker pajamas. The towel fell at her feet and she just pushed it aside, but she refused Ben’s help when he crouched down to help her put the pants on.
He had to hold her up, but she managed on her own. She let him blow-dry her hair, and then she brushed her teeth. By the time she was done, she didn’t have an ounce of energy left, and the trip to her bed seemed to last hours. Laying between the fresh sheets made her feel better than anything else in the last two days, even with the quivers still rocking through her body.
“I’ll leave some water and pills on the nightstand,” Ben explained. “I have to leave early tomorrow morning, so you might wake up alone, but I’ll have my phone with me if you need me, OK?”
“To-tomorrow… you-you’re staying?” she stuttered through her chattering teeth.
“Well… yes.”
“What if you ca-catch my flu?”
“I had the shot.”
“Sm-smart guy.”
“I like to think so.”
She should have complained, or at least argued that even with the shot, he could still catch it, but the idea of spending the night next to him, hopefully with his arms around her, was just too good to pass up. She tried to stay awake and wait for him, but by the time he finally joined her, she was already half-asleep and could barely appreciate the way he spooned her, all gentle and delicate.
“Night, Pumpkin,” he said softly before pressing a kiss to her shoulder.
One thing managed to pierce through the foggy sleep: she couldn’t remember the last time a man’s arms had brought her so much comfort, just by holding her at night.
She woke up to an empty bed.
It was early, but her bladder was in dire need of some relief. As promised, there was a bottle of water and some Tylenol on her nightstand, and she gulped two pills down before slipping back in bed, knowing the only thing she could really do was rest. She quickly sent a text to Evie, apologizing, and to Ben to tell him she had woken up, felt a little better but still needed to sleep it off.
Evie simply told her not to worry and to get better soon, and Ben sent her a winking emoji.
It surprised her which one of these texts she most wanted to get.
The attraction she felt for Ben was hard to ignore. Their relationship was easy, based on trust, fun, and respect. She couldn’t remember laughing so much with a guy she had dated before. And the sex was clearly way, way superior to her usual standards as well. He would probably never be a serious guy, committed and long-term material, because she just couldn’t see him settling down. He was too full of life, too exuberant, too playful, too… too everything, actually. But she liked what they had, and the more time they spent together, the more she liked it. He was extremely different from all of her past relationships, but somehow, everything fit naturally between them. Her analytical brain was constantly challenged by his wild imagination, her introverted personality was put at ease by the way he could fill a conversation just by himself and still, somehow, find a way to include her and not make it all about him.
The more layers she discovered about him, the more she realized she had completely misjudged him at first. He was still the poster picture of the wealthy Manhattan playboy, but that was just a small part of him, one that didn’t define him.
She liked the guy.
She liked him quite a lot more than she had expected.