You belong with me

You say you're fine, I know you better than that

I woke up early in the morning, unable to sleep. Carlos was hurt and crying last night, but I gave him space to process his feelings. As the sun rose, its rays slowly filled my room through the window. I decided to make a nice, warm breakfast for him and headed to the kitchen. I made banana pancakes, his favorite recipe, and added a bowl of fruit and a cup of coffee to the tray. I went to wake up Carlos. I slowly pushed the door open, which was still ajar. There he was, lying lifelessly on the bed, still in his rain-soaked clothes and shoes.

I placed the tray on his reading table and gently touched his arm to wake him up. He was burning hot. "Carlos, I made breakfast for you," I said, but he didn't respond. Panic surged through me. "Carlos," I said louder, trying to wake him, but there was still no response. He must have caught a fever and become unconscious from sleeping in those wet clothes.

Tears welled up in my eyes. It was all my fault. I should have changed him into warm clothes and dried his hair. Now he was sick and unresponsive because of my neglect. I quickly took him to the nearest hospital, where they admitted him.

I called Charles, crying. He promised to come as soon as possible. I sat in the chair, waiting anxiously for Charles and the doctor.

Charles arrived with Alex; she must have been with him when I called.

Charles came running. "What happened?" he asked. I explained everything that had occurred during the night.

"That bitch," he replied angrily. "I knew one day she would do something like this."

"Charles, please," Alex interjected, trying to calm him down. She turned to me and asked, "How is he now? Has the doctor said anything yet?"

I shook my head. "No, not yet."

We all sat down, waiting anxiously for the doctor to update us on Carlos's condition

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finally approached us. "He has a high fever due to soaking in the rain," she explained. "But he'll be okay and should regain consciousness in a few minutes."

We thanked her profusely. "Can we see him?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, you can."

We thanked her again and went to see Carlos. He was lying peacefully in the bed, a saline drip attached to his hand. The gentle rise and fall of his chest was the only indication that he was alive. Tears welled up in my eyes as I saw him in that state. My brain kept reminding me that it was all my fault.

I sat beside his bed on a chair and took his hand in mine. "I am sorry," I whispered to Carlos.

After 30 minutes, Carlos winced and slowly opened his eyes. "What happened?" he asked, looking disoriented.

I expected Charles to berate Carlos for what had happened, but instead, he spoke softly. "You got a fever and went unconscious, so Lando brought you to the hospital," he explained. Then, turning to me, he added, "Thank you."

Carlos gave a faint smile and slowly drifted back to sleep. I could see that Charles was furious, though he kept his anger in check. Alex decided to leave and went home.

After some time, the doctor came to check on Carlos. "He's doing well now. The fever is gone, but he's still a bit weak, so we'll keep him under observation for the night."

We nodded and thanked the doctor. The hospital staff brought Carlos some bland food, which he ate reluctantly, making faces at the taste.

"Carlos," Charles called out, "Lando and I are going to get something to eat. We'll be back soon."

Carlos nodded weakly, and we headed to the hospital cafeteria. The food options looked bland, but we decided on burgers, which seemed like the only things fit for non-sick people.

"I shouldn't have let him go to her," Charles said, biting into his burger.

I nodded in agreement. "I will call his mother and let her know what happened," Charles continued.

I shook my head. "It's not good for Carlos's parents to know how Rebecca turned out. Carlos doesn't want to break up with her despite everything. Knowing this would break their hearts and make them worry constantly."

Charles sighed and reluctantly agreed. We finished our burgers and returned to Carlos's room.

A nurse was adding another saline drip to Carlos. "Only one member can stay with him tonight," she informed us.

"I'll stay," I volunteered.

Charles nodded. "Goodbye, Carlos. I'll be back early in the morning," he said.

With that, Charles left, and I settled in to stay by Carlos's side for the night.

I sat on the chair beside his bed. "Charles must be angry with me, right?" Carlos asked softly.

"Yes," I replied.

"He didn't say anything now because I'm weak," Carlos continued.

I nodded. "Yes, that's true."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tears welling up in his eyes. "I shouldn't have gone to her house and decorated it. She might have felt embarrassed by my actions. Her model friends laughed at her, and she felt sad on her birthday."

I remained silent, amazed that even in this situation, Carlos was thinking about her. She was the one in the wrong, not him. He was so thoughtful, wanting to surprise her on her birthday and celebrate with her. He had been so happy to go to her house, and she had broken his heart. It was hard to digest how she had him so completely under her control.

"Carlos, please sleep now. Let's talk about that tomorrow, okay?" I said gently.

He nodded, and I pulled the blanket up to his chest. He took my hand in his and said, "Thank you."

I smiled softly at him, grateful that he was still the kind and caring person I knew, despite everything.

In the next meeting, Charles paid the hospital bill, and we took Carlos back to our apartment. Alex came along too.

We laid Carlos on his bed, and I covered him with a blanket. "I texted Rebecca; she might come today," he said.

Charles clenched his fists, wanting to punch Carlos in the throat, but he remained silent.

"Okay, Carlos. Thanks for the heads up. I'll make enough lunch for her too," Alex added.

Carlos whispered a small thank you to her.

We left Carlos's room and sat in the living area while Alex worked in the kitchen, making soup for Carlos and pasta for us.

"You know, I want to punch him," Charles said, frustration evident in his voice.

Alex yelled at Charles for being insensitive. "How could he still love her after all this?" Charles shouted.

Alex made a disapproving sound and went into Carlos's room to give him the soup.

Rebecca did come that day, late in the evening. Carlos had texted her early in the morning, but she didn't seem to care and arrived as if she was fulfilling an obligation. We didn't say anything as Alex opened the door, and Rebecca made her way to Carlos's room. We heard some yelling, knowing she was blaming Carlos for everything again, and then his room fell silent.

Charles wanted to storm into Carlos's room and slap her, but Alex stopped him. We all remained silent.

Rebecca changed into Carlos's pajamas and decided to stay with him for the night. Charles and Alex left and went back to their apartment.

After eating dinner, I went to my room, feeling tears in my eyes. I felt so powerless in this situation. Why did he have to go through all of this? I wanted him to end up with someone who would take good care of him, not someone who gaslights him. I cried myself to sleep, feeling a deep sadness for my Carlos.