Crossing boundaries

76.

Becky's PoV

I never imagined I'd find myself in this situation—curled up in bed, feeling like my body was betraying me. The flu hit me harder than I expected, and Freen had done everything she could to make me comfortable before she had to leave for work. I hated that she had to go, but I knew she had no choice. She kissed my forehead before she left, promising she'd be back as soon as possible.

But as soon as the door closed behind her, the loneliness crept in, wrapping itself around me like a cold blanket. I missed her already, missed the way she'd look at me with those warm, comforting eyes, the way she'd brush my hair out of my face and tell me everything would be okay. Without her, the world seemed a little less bright, and the ache in my chest grew heavier with each passing minute.

I tried to rest, but the fever and the chills wouldn't let me. My throat was sore, and I felt too weak to even sit up properly. I glanced over at the glass of water and the medicine on the nightstand, but the thought of taking them without Freen by my side felt unbearable. It was silly, I knew, but I couldn't help it. She was my rock, my everything, and without her here, I felt lost.

That's when Freen's mom came in. I wasn't expecting her—I didn't think she'd even notice how sick I was, let alone care. But she walked in quietly, her face a mixture of concern and something else I couldn't quite place. She sat down beside me, her presence both comforting and unfamiliar.

"Becky," she said softly, her voice gentle in a way I hadn't heard before. "You need to take your medicine."

I was too tired to argue, but the words wouldn't come. All I could do was shake my head weakly, the tears welling up in my eyes as I thought about how much I missed Freen. "I... I don't want to. Freen's not here," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

To my surprise, Freen's mom didn't scold me or push me to take the medicine. Instead, she reached out and placed her hand on my forehead, checking for fever. The touch was so tender, so motherly, that it brought fresh tears to my eyes. For a moment, I was reminded of my own mom, the way she used to care for me when I was sick as a child. But that was a long time ago, a lifetime ago, and now it was just me and Freen against the world.

"Becky, listen to me," she said, her tone firmer now, but still full of warmth. "You need to take this medicine. Freen wouldn't want to see you like this, suffering. You're strong, but you need to help yourself get better."

Her words cut through the fog of my illness, and I found myself nodding slowly. She was right. Freen would be worried sick if she saw me like this, refusing to take care of myself. I couldn't do that to her, not after everything we'd been through.

With Freen's mom's help, I sat up and took the medicine, sipping the water she held to my lips. The simple act of being cared for by her, of feeling her concern and her presence, made the loneliness ebb away, replaced by a warmth I hadn't expected. When she brushed my hair back and smoothed the covers over me, I couldn't hold back the gratitude that welled up inside me.

"Thank you, Mom," I whispered, my voice barely audible. I didn't know if she heard me, but I meant it with all my heart. In that moment, she was more than just Freen's mother—she was someone who cared about me, someone who saw me as more than just Freen's partner.

As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a strange sense of peace settle over me. It wasn't just the medicine taking effect—it was something deeper, something that told me things were going to be okay. For the first time since Freen and I had moved back in with her, I felt like I was part of this family, like I belonged here.

When I woke up the next morning, Freen was there, sitting beside me with a worried expression on her face. The moment our eyes met, she smiled, relief flooding her features. "Hey, how are you feeling?" she asked, her voice full of love and concern.

I smiled back at her, feeling the warmth in my chest grow. "Better," I said softly. "Your mom took good care of me."

Freen's eyes widened in surprise, and then a slow smile spread across her face. "Really? That's... that's amazing, Becky. I'm so glad."

"Me too," I whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of my eyes again. "She was so kind, Freen. It made me feel... it made me feel like I'm really part of this family. Like she's starting to accept us."

Freen leaned in and kissed my forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment. "You are part of this family, Becky. I've always believed that. And if my mom's finally coming around... that's the best news I could ever ask for."

.................