Chapter 2

But as long as the fever refuses to let go completely, I’m stuck here in the guesthouse. Unable to care for him or touch him. Unable to comfort him.

“I miss you, Zakarias,” he says, shoulders slumping, his big body curling in on itself. He rubs his neck and averts his eyes.

“Look at me, love. Please.”

He meets my gaze and the fatigue shining in his eyes, originating from his very soul, stabs my heart. I haven’t seen laughter in them for God knows how long. Nor the sparkle of his joy of life that’s such a huge part of his personality, one of the things that made me fall for him all those years ago. Julian embraces everything in life with curiosity and openness I’ve rarely seen in any other person. He always has a warm smile and a kind word, and the biggest and softest heart, bleeding for everyone. I don’t see any of that these days, and it breaks my fucking heart.

It’s understandable, though. He’s just come off his third double shift in a row. The workload at the hospital has been crazy for a long time, seemingly with no end in sight. And since the ICU was in desperate need of more personnel, and Julian has previous experience, the hospital transferred him back even though he left the department a couple years ago because he doesn’t cope well with people dying. So being flung into the thick of things during a pandemic is slowly breaking him down and being unable to take care of him is driving me crazy.

But I try my damndest not to show him any of that and instead do my absolute best to take care of him from a safe distance, where I won’t accidentally transmit the virus to him. “I miss you, too,” I say, untangling one of my hands from my pockets, laying it over my heart. “There’s nothing I want more than to sleep next to you. You know that.”

He nods.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but hang in there a little while longer. I’ll be back soon, and you’ll be annoyed with me because I’ll be making up for the lost time. I’ll insist on feeding you and be so clingy you’ll get tired of me.”

One corner of his mouth twitches. “Nah.”

I smile, hoping it looks genuine and not as forced as it feels like. “I’ll hold you to that. But for now, you need to sleep. Go inside, take a long, hot shower. Make a cup of jasmine tea. Then put your laptop on the bedside table and Skype me, and I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. Okay?”

“You have work to do.”

I step forward but freeze when I remember the invisible line I’m not allowed to cross when I’m not alone. Grinding my teeth, I take a deep breath, filling my lungs to capacity with the chilly air. Letting it cool my frustration.

“Fuck that,” I say. “You know my boss is very understanding and I don’t even needto work because of this stupid virus. And you knowyou’re more important to me than anything. Work can wait. It willwait, all right?”

He nods. “Okay.”

“Go inside, love. I’ll be waiting by my laptop when you’re ready for me.”

He nods again, knowing this is a fight he won’t win. He knows me inside and out and can read my body language better than anyone. And he knows how important he is to me, that I won’t compromise in putting him first. Julian lays his hand on his chest, over his heart, and taps three times. I do the same, my gaze never leaving his. I love you, too.

“See you soon.” He turns and walks to the main house, and I stay right where I am despite the biting cold, watching him as he crosses the lawn. After he’s unlocked and opened the door, he turns to me and waves. I wave back but still won’t leave my post until he’s signaled through the window that the house is locked up.

Only then do I return inside the guesthouse, slamming the door behind me so hard, the windows rattle. Then I turn my face to the ceiling and yell my frustration. I rub my palms on my head, messing up my shaggy, unkempt quarantine hair. When my engagement ring snags on a strand of hair, pulling on it, I snap out of my mini-tantrum.

Anger won’t help our situation. It won’t change the fact that Julian’s a nurse, working with patients infected by the virus. It won’t change that I caught it, albeit with only mild symptoms. We can’t risk me giving it to him; he’s needed at the hospital. But most of all, infecting my fiancé with a potentially deadly virus is the last thing in the world I want to do. No matter how much I miss touching him.

So here I am. Living in our guesthouse for the fourth week in a row. Frustrated by not being able to comfort or hug or kiss the love of my life. Frustrated over everything, really, but mostly by seeing Julian becoming more and more burned out by every passing day and not being able to do anything about it.