That night, sleep evaded me. Whether it was the sting in my hand or the sharp realization of my own feelings, I couldn’t find rest. I tossed and turned, sheets damp with sweat, desperate for oblivion. Hours passed before exhaustion finally claimed me.
Just as the first light of dawn crept in, Caleb shook me awake.
I groaned and tried to push him off, but he only chuckled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to my lips.
Instantly, all my weariness vanished. I wanted to push him, slap him even, but restrained myself just in time.
“Morning, my sleepy little star?” he teased.
I turned my face away, wiping my lips with distaste.
“It’s the weekend. Why can’t you let me sleep in?” I grumbled, dragging myself upright.
Caleb’s expression softened into one of helpless concern. “Did you even realize you ran a fever last night? Come on, get up. I’m taking you to the doctor.”
I paused, studying him. Was he acting out the role of a caring boyfriend, or did he genuinely care about me? The worry etched on his face was real, yet it didn’t feel like it was truly directed at me.
Still, I couldn’t argue, so I reluctantly followed.