chapter 106: I couldn't lose him

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Chapter 106 – Amara's POV

"I Couldn't Lose Him"

The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows on the walls, and I watched them dance while listening to Ethan's ragged breathing beside me.

It had been hours since I got him to take the pills. Hours since I wiped his forehead with a cold towel and whispered to him that he was going to be okay.

But he wasn't getting better.

If anything, he was getting worse.

I touched his forehead again. Burning. His skin was hot to the point that it scared me. He tossed in the sheets restlessly, lips dry, body covered in sweat, and let out a low, painful groan.

"Ethan?" I whispered, leaning in.

His eyes cracked open, dazed and unfocused. "Cold," he muttered.

"You're shivering because your body's on fire," I murmured, brushing his soaked hair back. "You need more than just water and old painkillers."

I looked at the empty pill bottle on the bedside table.

He had taken the last dose.

And he wasn't holding up.

I felt a tightness in my chest—panic clawing its way up.

This was no ordinary flu.

I needed to get him something stronger. Something immediate. I had to do something—because just lying there watching him suffer, helpless… it was unbearable.

I grabbed my phone and searched for the closest late-night pharmacy.

8 minutes away.

I hesitated for a second, then turned back to Ethan. "I'll be right back," I whispered. "Hold on, okay?"

He didn't respond. Just breathed heavily, brow furrowed in pain.

I pulled the blanket up to his chest, tucked him in gently, then hurried out, grabbing my bag and jacket on the way.

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The streets were quiet, city lights casting gold streaks across the sidewalk as I rushed into the night.

The wind bit at my skin, but I barely felt it.

I walked fast, half-jogging, heart pounding with every step.

What if something happened while I was gone?

What if I came back and found—

No. Stop it, Amara.

He was strong. Stubborn as hell. He wasn't going anywhere. Not when I just started to believe we could have something real.

Not when I just admitted to myself that I loved him.

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The pharmacy glowed like a beacon in the distance.

I pushed through the door, the bell above me jingling sharply.

A sleepy-looking pharmacist behind the counter looked up. "Ma'am?"

"My—my friend," I stammered, breathless. "He's got a really high fever. He's sweating, shaking, his muscles hurt, and he's not responding well to regular paracetamol. I need something stronger. Maybe… ibuprofen? Rehydration salts? Something fast."

The man blinked, then nodded quickly, stepping around the counter. "Sounds like a viral infection. Could be flu. Could be more, but if he's still lucid and breathing okay, these will help stabilize him."

He loaded up a small bag—ibuprofen, electrolyte powder, cooling gel packs, a thermometer, and a bottle of rehydration drink.

I paid and thanked him hurriedly, then ran all the way back.

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My legs burned by the time I reached the penthouse.

I burst inside, dropping my bag and nearly tripping over my shoes as I headed straight to the bedroom.

"Ethan?"

Still there.

Still breathing.

Still burning.

But his shirt was soaked through with sweat, and his face was red with heat.

I didn't waste time.

I got him to sit up slowly—even though he was barely awake—and slipped off his drenched shirt. His skin felt like fire under my fingertips. I pressed a cold gel pack against his neck, another under his armpits.

He flinched but didn't protest.

I dissolved the electrolyte powder into a glass of water and coaxed him into drinking it, one slow sip at a time.

Then I got him to take the ibuprofen.

I sat there for nearly thirty minutes, watching him breathe, eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest.

Please let this work. Please…

His skin started to cool little by little. The trembling slowed. The tightness in his jaw eased.

And finally—he sighed.

A soft, deep breath. Like his body was releasing everything all at once.

I let out a breath too. I hadn't realized I'd been holding it.

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He drifted into a deeper sleep.

And I sat there beside him, brushing the hair off his forehead, watching the man I had once vowed to never fall for.

I had no idea how quickly he'd slipped past my defenses.

No idea how badly it would hurt to see him like this.

No idea how far I'd go to protect him.

Even if it meant running barefoot into the night, even if it meant being the one to hold him when he couldn't even stand.

I looked around his room—usually pristine and cold like a hotel.

But now?

Now it felt lived in. Real.

Because he was real.

And mine.

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At some point, I curled up next to him, wrapping my arm around his waist.

His body was warm—but no longer burning. Just warm enough to remind me he was alive, here, safe.

He mumbled something in his sleep, turning toward me slightly.

I smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I'm not going anywhere," I whispered.

"I've got you."

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End of Chapter 106 – Amara's POV.