"Fine! Stella got a cold because of you overexerting her too much!" Max mumbled like a kid being scolded.
Lukas' mind raced as he processed Max's words. They hadn't had sex in a week—so, if Stella was feeling unwell, perhaps she had been finding other ways to soothe herself. For some reason, a strange mix of relief and concern washed over him. Part of him was oddly glad he wasn't the only one taking matters into his own hands, yet he couldn't shake the worry about her health.
"When did Stella get a cold?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"According to her, it's already been a week," Max replied, his tone serious.
"I'll give you your bonus later. Bye," Lukas said, ending the call abruptly. He needed to focus, but his thoughts were already drifting back to Stella.
He returned to the meeting, but his mind was elsewhere. He had a million things to consider, but all he could think about was how he needed to check on her.
He glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much longer he had to stay. He needed to leave early, but the pending matters on his desk kept piling up. Every time he thought he could slip away, another issue would arise, demanding his attention.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the meeting concluded, and he quickly wrapped up his notes. "I'll handle the rest of this tomorrow," he said to his employees, trying to sound authoritative despite his impatience.
Once he got home, it was already midnight. Stella must be sleeping already, so he quietly opened her door and tiptoed inside. The room was dimly lit, and he could see her figure nestled under the blankets. A wave of concern washed over him as he approached her bedside.
When he reached out to check her temperature, his hand brushed against her forehead, and he was alarmed to find that she was burning up. She must be having a fever right now.
He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Max's number, hoping he wouldn't wake her in the process. After a few rings, Max picked up, his voice groggy but alert. "Lukas? It's late. What's going on?"
"Max, it's Stella. She's burning up with a fever. What medicine should I give her?" Lukas asked, his voice low but filled with concern.
"Is she conscious?" Max replied, his tone shifting to one of seriousness.
"Yes, but she's really out of it. I just checked her temperature, and it's high," Lukas said, glancing back at Stella, who was stirring slightly in her sleep.
"Okay, listen carefully. You can give her some acetaminophen to help reduce the fever. Make sure to follow the dosage instructions on the bottle. And keep her hydrated—water or herbal tea should be fine," Max instructed.
"Got it," he said, relief flooding through him. He hung up and quickly made his way to the kitchen, grabbing the medicine from the cabinet. His hands trembled slightly as he poured a glass of water, his mind racing with worry.
After retrieving the acetaminophen, he returned to Stella's room, careful not to make too much noise. He gently shook her shoulder, whispering, "Stella, wake up. You need to take some medicine."
She stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and she looked up at him, confusion clouding her expression. "Lukas?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
She blinked a few times, trying to process what was happening. "I don't want to," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I know you don't feel well, but you need to take it to help bring your fever down," he urged gently. "Just a little bit, and then you can go back to sleep."
"No," she said stubbornly, turning her back on him. "I hate the taste of medicine."
He sighed, knowing how stubborn she is, she probably won't drink the medicine. without another word, he popped the pill into his own mouth and took a sip of water. Then, leaning in close, he pressed a soft kiss to Stella's lips. When their mouths parted, he gently slipped the pill into her mouth with a quiet grace.
Caught off guard, Stella had no choice but to gulp it down, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. She looked up at him, eyes half-lidded with fatigue, and he smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from her damp forehead.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" he murmured.
She gave a small, tired smile and nestled back into the pillows.
"Sleep now, I'll be right beside you," he said as he settled into the chair beside her bed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.
But to his surprise, she pulled him back toward her bed and hugged him tightly. "Stay here…" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleepiness.
"Let me take a shower first," he said, trying to move but she only hugged him tighter, her grip surprisingly strong for someone who was feeling so unwell.
He let her hold him for a while, feeling the warmth of her body against his. It was comforting, and he couldn't help but smile at how vulnerable she was being.
When he felt her grip loosen slightly, he gently moved away, careful not to disturb her too much. "I'll be right back," he promised, heading to the bathroom.
Just as he was finishing up, he heard her mumbling softly from the bedroom. "I'm sorry… Lukas…"
His heart ached at the sound of her voice, filled with a mix of regret and vulnerability. "I'm sorry too," he whispered back.
After quickly drying off, he slipped into a fresh pair of clothes and made his way back to her room. The sight of her nestled in the blankets, looking so fragile yet peaceful, tugged at his heartstrings. He climbed into bed beside her, careful not to disturb her too much.
As he settled in, she instinctively turned towards him, seeking his warmth. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close, and felt her relax against him. "I'm here," he murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Stella sighed contentedly, her breathing evening out as she drifted back to sleep. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax for the first time that day.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
Next Day, 6 P.M.
When I woke up, Lukas was already gone from my side. My mind was a bit hazy from last night, but I remembered how he had taken care of me. I could feel that my fever and cold had subsided, thanks to him. I sat up carefully, stretching my arms and taking a deep breath, grateful that I was feeling better now.
As I swung my legs over the side of the bed, I decided to start on something simple for dinner. I moved into the kitchen, pulling out fresh ingredients—some vegetables, rice, and a few spices. My mind was still a little foggy from my illness, but I was determined to make something to eat since I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday.
I began chopping vegetables with gentle, deliberate movements, humming softly to myself as I focused on the task at hand. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board was soothing, and I felt a sense of normalcy returning. The aroma of cooking filled the house, and just as I was getting into the groove, I heard the door open.
I began chopping vegetables with gentle, deliberate movements, humming softly to myself. The aroma of cooking filled the house when I heard the door open. I looked back to see Lukas entering. I was stunned but continued cooking, this was the first time he got home early again after our cold war.
I looked back to see Lukas entering, and I was stunned for a moment. This was the first time he had come home early after our cold war, and I felt a rush of emotions at the sight of him.
"Stella?" he said, his voice warm and inviting as I felt him move toward me.
"I'm making dinner," I replied simply, focusing on chopping vegetables and not looking up.
I suddenly felt his hand move to my forehead, light and tender, checking my temperature. "You shouldn't strain yourself yet; you just recovered from your fever and cold," he said, concern etched on his face.
"I'm fine," I insisted, glancing at him with a small smile. "By the way, you're home early."
"Well," he replied, a hint of relief in his voice as he reached for an apron hanging by the drawer. "There's not much to do since I finished all the paperwork from yesterday."
"What are you doing?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder to see him tying the apron around his waist.
"To help you?" he said, a playful smile tugging at his lips.
"Why?" I raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious.
"Because, knowing how stubborn you are, I'm pretty sure you still want to cook, so I'll help you," Lukas replied confidently.
"Fine," I chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through me at his willingness to pitch in. "Help me with this." I gestured toward the pile of chopped vegetables on the counter.
He stepped closer, rolling up his sleeves as he took a seat beside me. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
"Just stir the vegetables in the pan while I prepare the rice," I instructed, handing him a wooden spoon.
"Got it," he said, taking the spoon and starting to stir the contents of the pan. I watched him for a moment, feeling a sense of comfort in the familiarity of our routine. It was nice to have him here, working alongside me, and I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him in the apron.