Half A Heartbeat Away

18

•Milena Blackford•

The days that followed, I was sick as ever. I kept having high fevers and a runny nose that kept worsening. My muscles felt sore and stiff that I couldn't get out of bed at all for a couple of days excluding going to the bathroom for necessities. My face was duller than ever while my body felt weak, getting sufficient nutrients in order to survive just barely. My head ached a lot, at inconsistent times, coming and going, while I tried my best to take the pills and the vitamins and eat enough soup to keep me alive.

All that and I refused to see a doctor. Although Beckham insisted a couple of times when he saw how severe my condition was, I still said there was no need to. I knew myself and my body, if I were at my limit I would probably get a doctor instead of risking it. I got down with the flu on a yearly basis. This time it happened to strike more strongly. Still, nothing I couldn't handle.

The worst part about this whole ordeal wasn't the physical pain. It was the separation from the kids. They've become such a huge part of my life that it's hard to picture my day without them anymore. They seem to feel the same way, since Lily barged in on me three days ago -in my second day of sickness- only to say that she missed me and couldn't handle being held away from me anymore.

I had real tears streaming down my face as she rushed into my embrace. Even though Beckham scolded her for rushing for my open arms and hurting me in the process, I shushed him by saying it was fine, she hadn't hurt me.

"I missed you Milly" She cried on my shoulder while squeezing the air out of me. I ran my hand through her curls, a feeling I've missed. "I missed you too. So very much. Are you making sure you're behaving?" I looked her in the eyes while she nodded her head. She kept telling me about what she did over the days, and the park uncle Dano took her to. She recounted her last few days at kindergarten and what sort of activities she's done there too.

She kept telling me about how Soir was cranky and cried more often. A pang in my chest opened at her words. Beckham and I had this conversation before. Because he's still so little and his immune system isn't entirely developed, I preferred that I keep my distance for the meantime and I can see him again when I'm feeling better.

To say I haven't missed him was a lie. He was handled by the maids working here for Beckham. I'm sure they made a wonderful job of looking after him, but it still was hard to be apart from him.

Moreover, in all this one hazy turmoil, Beckham refused to leave my side. He would feed me, give me my medicine accordingly, prepare hot baths for me, offer to help me with dressing up -that I politely declined since I was able to do so on my own-, and babysit me through day and night.

I've argued countless times that he shouldn't be wasting his time on me instead of working. I knew he had one of the most stressful jobs ever, if not the. But still, he'd reassure me that everything is dealt with just fine and that he's not going anywhere.

I found it kind of sweet of him to care for me. Then, I remembered that I was his wife by law and how would it look to the staff if he just neglected my state and kept going on ordinarily with his life.

We shared a bed, my bed, for these five days. We haven't taken use of the proximity in our sleep, we woke up the exact same way we went to sleep. Each on their side.

Although, it was such a great opportunity for me to admire him. He was at the perfect distance for me to count the sum of eyelashes on his eyes, and memorize the scars on his face. Although they're meant to defect, on him they did the exact opposite and added to his charm. He had a few scabs here and there, mostly old and faded, that I died to step forward and touch them with my own fingertips, to feel them and his stubbled face, to run my fingers on his skin and trace his heartbeat pulse on his neck.

I kept my unholy thoughts to myself and blamed it all on my illness. I wasn't accustomed to seeing him all day everyday, but now that I did, it was hard looking away from him.

Five days and the closest to the outside world was the rays of sunshine that peeked through the window and I would groan and stuff my head under the pillows while Beckham would chuckle at my actions.

Sufficient to say, I was more than eager to step outside and take a breath of fresh air. After talking with my brother over the phone, he got worried at my graveled voice and questioned the hell out of me, asking questions about how was Beckham treating me, and so I had to calm him down, tell him about my condition and promise to visit in the nearing days.

Today was it. I went so long without seeing my family that I actually do miss them. Only this time, it wasn't Hans or anyone else driving me there, but my husband himself.

When he knew about my plans, he didn't object to them, but he did say he was driving me there himself, otherwise 'good luck in trying to reach there' I believe were his exact words.

So instead of fighting him over it, I accepted and he looked over me suspiciously. "What?" I asked after noticing him looking at me weirdly. "Did you just agree without making a fuss?" He asks and I turn my head from the mirror on the vanity to him tucking his shirt in, he went to his room to freshen up and change, and he entered back whilst buttoning his blouse. I tried my best to not be distracted by that and kept focus on getting my makeup done without messing it up.

"Do you want me to fight you over it?" I asked exasperatedly, with amusement in my eyes. In all honesty, I don't have the energy to discuss, let alone argue over with him.

He smiled over at me "No" before he tightened his belt and stepped outside "I'll be waiting for you in the car, don't be late" He mutters before leaving me alone.

I look over to my makeup, deciding I looked decent enough and brushed my hair out with my hands one last time to give it volume as I slid out of the room and made my way downstairs.

It felt good moving and walking again. I spent five days cooped up in my room that I missed the outer world. The rush of the cars in the morning traffic. The late night breeze ruffling the trees' leaves. It was all ordinary, but once deprived of it, you learn to appreciate it, to look at it in a different light.

Also, Lily was in kindergarten and Soir was at a special caregiver for his age. Starting tomorrow, I'd have my babies back. Today, as already planned, I'm going to my family's house.

My heels click on the cobblestoned road making a sound until I open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. "Hi" I greet over to my husband behind the wheel.

"Hey" comes out his griff deep voice, even hotter when he's in that suit dressed up for work.

Beckham backs out of the yard and into the road. The drive was silent but it wasn't uncomfortable, we were just getting used to each other in this new scene.

Once we reached the front gate of my family house, I unfastened my seatbelt and turned in my seat to look at him "Thank you" I say with the brightest of smiles on my face.

"It's no problem, you were on my wa—" He starts but I cut him off.

"That's not what I mean. Thank you for sticking by my side and not leaving me for the past week" I let out with a genuine smile and he just stares at me "Your welcome".

I take his hand that was on the middle console in mine, squeeze it gently in gratitude "Really, thank you". His eyes drifted to our joint hands until I retreated and stepped out of the car before my heartbeat exploded there and then.