Love Rivals: The Day I Saw Your Tears

62. Sickness Kills ...

By morning, my head felt like it was weighed down by bricks. I struggled to get up, trying to pull myself together for the hospital, but every movement made me realize how badly my body ached. The rise of body temperature was unbearable, and the thought of working in that condition was out of the question.

Just then, my phone buzzed. I picked up. "Take your mom's saree. I've had it dry cleaned," her voice came through rudely. I glanced at the screen and saw Sarah's name flash across.
I sighed, feeling drained. My voice sounded as pale as I felt. "I can't," I muttered. "Send it over."

Before she could say anything more, I hung up, the weight of everything -- my fever, the night before -- pressing down harder.

I dragged myself back to bed, pulling the blanket over my aching body, hoping to get some rest. But just as I started to drift off, the doorbell rang, cutting through the quiet. I groaned, unwilling to move, but whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up, pressing the bell relentlessly.

With a heavy sigh, I forced myself up, each step toward the door feeling like a struggle. When I finally opened it, I was met with an unexpected sight -- Sarah, standing there, visibly annoyed, holding a small bag in her hand.

Her eyes met mine, and I could tell she wasn’t pleased.

She thrust the bag toward me, her tone sharp. "Take it."

I glanced at the bag briefly, too exhausted to care. Turning away, I mumbled, "Keep it there," and pointed lazily to the table in the living room. Without waiting for her response, I trudged back toward my room, the weight of my fever and exhaustion pulling me down, desperate to collapse into bed again.

As I shuffled toward my room, Sarah followed, her voice growing more intense. “I know exactly what I'm going to face," she began, her words coming out in a rush. "My parents are already upset with me. When they find out about last night, they’ll hate me even more. Maybe they’ll cut ties with me for good this time.”

Her footsteps quickened behind me, and her frustration was palpable. “And here you are, not even responding,” she added, her voice trembling. “Now you're ignoring me, insulting me."

I could barely focus on her words, my body drained of energy. I stumbled into my room, ignoring her rambling as she followed close behind, refusing to let it go. All I wanted was to lie down and escape from the chaos, but she was right there, her presence lingering, demanding my attention.

“What happened to you?” Sarah asked, her voice a mix of irritation and genuine concern. Before I could respond, she reached out and placed her hand on my forehead, her expression changing from annoyance to alarm. “You’re burning up! Is anyone else home?”

I shook my head, feeling too weak to elaborate. “Nope, just me,” I mumbled.

“Then you really need to call Nitya,” she insisted, her tone firm and authoritative.

I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s not needed,” I replied, trying to downplay the situation.

But Sarah wouldn’t back down. “What’s her number?” she demanded, already pulling her phone from her pocket.

I hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly gave her Nitya's number. She swiftly dialed it, and after a few rings, I could hear Nitya’s voice on the other end.

“Hey, Nitya,” Sarah began, her tone shifting to one of urgency. “It’s Sarah. Ryan’s really sick—he’s burning up with a fever, and he’s home alone. You need to come over.”

After a brief pause, I could see Sarah’s expression shift as she listened to Nitya’s response. Her frustration flared, and she hung up the phone with an irritated snap.

“What did she say?” I asked, curiosity cutting through my fatigue.

Sarah shot me a sharp look. “You’re really lucky to have a girl like her,” she replied, sarcasm dripping from her words. “I think you don’t need medicine—just a whole lot of good wishes. That’s all you need right now.”

I felt a wave of irritation wash over me. “If you’re not going to speak plainly, then I’ll just stop listening,” I retorted, my voice strained. “I’m really not in the mood for your nonsense.” With that, I pulled the blanket over my face.

“She said you’re not a kid,” Sarah continued, undeterred. “Just take your medicine and rest for once.”

As she spoke, I could hear her mumbling some choice words under her breath, clearly venting her frustration. It was a string of curses that I didn’t quite catch, but the bitterness in her tone was unmistakable.

“Do you have any medicine?” she finally asked, turning back to me with an exasperated look.

I sighed, my voice muffled by the blanket. “I don’t have any,” I admitted.

Her frustration boiled over, and she threw her hands up in defeat. “Unbelievable,” she muttered as she stormed out of the room.