TMUW 4 - Fever

The sun had already set when I arrived at our house with Lucas to collect the belongings I left behind. Just as he wanted, I was going to retrieve all my things and leave nothing behind.

The lights were off, so I took it upon myself to turn them on. It's a good thing we both have keys to the house, so it wasn't a hassle if either of us was away and the other would come home.

I sighed, my cheeks puffed out, as I looked around the entire house. I had been here for seven years, but no matter where I looked, there wasn't a single happy memory. All I could see were painful experiences.

The house was quiet, and it felt like you could hear crickets chirping outside. It was always like this. The house was huge, yet it felt like no one lived in it. It was incredibly lonely.

Instead of lingering, I went to my room and started packing my things. Maybe this was the right decision. Perhaps seven years of suffering were enough for me.

When you think about it, there are so many men in the world, and I won't run out of options. We can choose whether to settle for less but for me... I want to stay single for a while after the annulment. I want to experience the freedom that I've barely had.

I sighed as I packed my things into the suitcase. Some of my stuff didn't fit, so I took them and placed them in the back of the car.

With my belongings in hand, I exited my room. I furrowed my brow when I saw Lucas almost stumbling as he walked toward his room. Was he drunk?

I shrugged it off and headed downstairs to leave. He might get angry if he saw me again.

I made sure he had entered his room before I went upstairs. I even caught that his door was still open, not bothering to close it.

I shook my head and couldn't resist peeking inside, especially when I heard a series of coughs.What if he ends up dying, and my conscience doesn't let me be at peace? I had agreed to let them believe I was the one abusing him. This might become a reason for me to end up in jail.

I knocked before finally entering. I didn't wait for him to allow me in because I knew he would never let me in. I didn't bother turning on the lights, and I approached his bed from a short distance.

There he was, lying down, covering his eyes with his right arm.

I observed his condition. He hadn't even bothered to take off his shoes!

"Hey," I said and slapped him.

"What the fuck!" he exclaimed, his gaze angry as he removed his arm from his eyes. "What are you doing here again? Go pack your things then leave."

"It seems you're doing fine. You can still get angry. I almost forgot, bad weeds never die," I muttered to myself with a shrug.

I didn't say goodbye and turned to leave. I'd continue packing my things to finally leave. However, as I closed the door, he started coughing continuously and it looked like he was about to vomit.

I let out a sigh, reopening the door. I turned on the lights as well, not caring if he got angry.

"Turn off the lights!" he ordered.

"Turn off the lights," I mocked as I approached him.

"You even drank a lot. Go and drink more, it's good for your health," I said sarcastically.

He furrowed his brow. "What are you saying?" he asked. He even had the energy to roll his eyes!

"Look at yourself! You're so drunk that you can't even take care of yourself properly. You're drinking so much alcohol!"

"You're spitting nonsense. Go back to your room," he ordered.

I glared at him, and he almost threw the pillow he was holding at me. A grown man, yet such a sadist. He didn't seem drunk at all.

He pulled back when I was about to place the back of my hand on his forehead. I tugged at him, making him look at me irritably."Come closer. Don't be so dramatic; I'm the one helping you, after all," I said."And why would I do that?" he retorted.

Instead of answering, I climbed onto his bed and slapped him back when he tried to hit my hand. "I just want to see if you have a fever!" I snapped.

His eyes were watery and he seemed weak. This was how he acted whenever he had a fever. After years of being together, I knew him well, especially when he was feverish – his face looked like he was being persecuted.

He continued hitting my hand, so I hit his hand even harder and pressed it against the mattress. "One," I counted.

He raised an eyebrow when I placed the back of my palm on his forehead. I wasn't surprised to feel the warmth.

"Done?" he asked and withdrew his hand weakly.

"Since when have you had a fever? Why didn't you tell me you were already sick?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "And why would I tell you?" he replied irritably.

"Why? Is there someone else taking care of you besides me?" I asked.

"I called Iris. She's on her way here."

I looked away. Right, there's someone else to take care of him besides me.

Silence lingered, prompting me to get off his bed. "What time is she coming?" I asked.

"And why would you like to know?"

I rolled my eyes. As if I'm interested in whether Iris is coming or not. "In case you die here, I might end up in jail because I was the last person seen with you in the house," I justified.

He chuckled lightly. "You're such an idiot," he almost whispered.

"You're an idiot too. The weather is so nice, yet you are here still got sick."

"Take off your shoes. I'll cook something with soup so you can take your medicine," I ordered.

"No. Pack your things then leave. Iris will cook for me," he said.

I laughed. If he ends up dying, Iris might still be his concern. "Fine," I agreed and left the room.

I quietly threw myself onto my bed. I had no intention of leaving this house until Iris arrived. It's difficult to just leave Lucas like this. It's been my duty and I need to take care of him when he's having fever.

I massaged my head as I opened my eyes. I hadn't realized I had fallen asleep.

I looked around my room, which was a bit messy from earlier when I was gathering my things.

I felt thirsty, so I decided to go down to the kitchen. My stomach even growled because I hadn't eaten earlier.

I bit my lower lip while looking at the clock. It was already three o'clock. The cup noodles in the kitchen were untouched, so I decided to cook them to fill my stomach a bit.

As I cooked them with hot water, I decided to bring them back to my room to eat. I was about to pass by Lucas' room when I noticed that the door was closed.

I pressed my left ear against the door as if I could somehow hear if Iris was there.

I pursed my lips and couldn't resist opening the door. Only a lamp provided light inside the room.

I glanced around his room, but I couldn't see any sign of Iris. I sighed and approached the edge of his bed.

I noticed he was shivering from the cold, so I grabbed the remote and lowered the air conditioning. I also pulled the blanket up to his chest. He seemed warmer now compared to earlier.

I put down my cup noodles and went to his bathroom to get a damp towel, but it was a bit of a struggle to keep going back and forth because there was no basin upstairs. So, I ended up grabbing one from downstairs.

I paused as I wiped his forehead when he grabbed my arm.

His eyes were watery and slightly red when he opened them. "It's cold," he said, contrary to my expectation that he would yell at me.

I withdrew my arm from his grip and placed the towel back in the basin. He closed his eyes again, seeming ready to go back to sleep.

"You didn't take your medicine earlier," I said, but he didn't respond anymore. "Iris didn't come to see you?" I asked.

"If you're here to scold me, it's better for you to leave. I don't have the strength to argue with you," he said weakly.

"Sit up," I ordered.

"I'm not a dog," he said.

"Sit. Eat these noodles so you have something in your stomach, and take your medicine," I said.

"Stop being bossy. I am the boss here," he argued. I thought he said he didn't have any strength.

"I'm not stealing your title. All I'm saying is, eat and at least alleviate your hunger when you're already sick," I said.

I removed the lid from my cup noodles and mixed them. Luckily, they were cooked just right.

He glanced at me when I turned to look at him. I acted like I was about to help him sit up, but he pushed my arm away.

"Bring it with you. I don't need it. I don't need your help. I can do it by myself. I don't need you," he said.

I looked at him annoyedly and sighed. I closed my eyes to calm myself down. I thought he was fine now and would be somewhat nice to me, even if just for today.

"What now?"

"Why can't you just hate me?" he asked.

I laughed softly. Where is this conversation going? Are we just going to argue until we part ways?

"Do you want to know?" I asked.

I waited for his response, but he just avoided eye contact.

I tried to make him sit up, even though he really didn't want to. He resisted, so I got annoyed. "Behave yourself!"

"I told you to leave my fucking room. I don't need you and your noodles. Should I repeat it again and again?" he said, glaring at me.

"I won't leave here until you take your medicine," I resisted.

He seemed to think that his way of looking at me would drive me away. I guess he didn't expect that he would end up looking more desperate than angry.

He reluctantly sat down and snatched the cup noodles from me. The hot broth spilled onto my hand, and I quickly wiped it on my shorts.

"Eat that," I said, guiding his hand to hold the cup properly. Luckily, the cup had handles, so he could hold it without burning his fingers.

He looked away as he sipped the noodles, and I held the cup for him to make sure he will not scald his hand.

He avoided my gaze when he finished and turned away. I was taken aback when I caught him glancing at my hand that had gotten burnt.

"I'll just get your medicine and water. Finish that," I said before leaving him alone in the room.