𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵

Chapter 20 - August 14, 1997

Chapter 20
3rd POV
August 14, 1997

Azalea caught one whiff of her favorite breakfast quiche and rushed from the balcony to the bathroom. She hit her knees throwing up violently.she hated being sick. She couldn't remember how many days she spent locked in that dark cupboard, deathly ill vacillating between begging for help to live and begging to die.

"Azalea?" Tom followed her in. He held her hair away from her face and rubbed her back gently. He watched in concern as his wife vomited.

Azalea leaned her head on her forearm with a moan. "Four days, I've been throwing up. Aren't stomach viruses supposed to last two?"

Tom stilled behind her. He had had several early morning meetings lately and had been out of the suite when she finally woke up. "You've been sick for four days and didn't tell me? Have you called Retha?"

"I thought it was a stomach bug. I didn't want to worry anyone."

"Kipper, get Retha up here now. Azalea is sick."

He helped Azalea to her feet and handed her water to rinse her mouth with.

"It's no big deal. It'll be fine in an hour or so."

Tom ignored her and carried her to their bed, settling her back under the covers. "You aren't fine until Retha says you are fine."

"I'll be fine. I've been a lot sicker than this without a healer."

"Well now you have someone to care for you. Deal with it."

Azalea stared at him a moment then averted her gaze.

Tom sighed and stoked her hair. "Of all the people you know, I probably understand your childhood and what it did to you the best. I understand not being able to depend on anyone except for yourself. I lived that life too."

"When I got sick they would lock me in the cupboard so they wouldn't catch it and leave me there until I was well. Sometimes they would put a gallon of water in with me. Sometimes they'd forget. I know now that without my magic, I would have died in that house."

Tom's countenance darkened in anger. "I killed them way too quickly."

A shar rap on their door and Retha entered. "My lord, Kipper, says Azalea is sick?"

"She's apparently been sick for four days now." Tom glowered at his wife. "And didn't think it was important enough to tell anyone."

Retha looked between them. "My lady?"

"I just get queasy in the morning. After I throw up, I'm okay."

Retha's worried face smoothed out. "Ah, I see. Let me run a diagnostic just to confirm my suspicions."

"Suspicions? What's wrong with my wife?" Tom demanded shortly.

"Nothing if I'm right. It's something that two of you have been working diligently on."

Tom flushed lightly as Retha's meaning became clear. Yes, they had been diligent about getting pregnant if he couldn't feel the thrum of worry and hope coming from her. He moves to sit beside her, picking up her hand and clasping it between his.