It felt as if she had slept for a century, her body laden with fatigue, hunger absent, longing to continue sleeping undisturbed, as if sleep could shield her from the embarrassing reality.
Amidst her grogginess, Winifred Dawson heard the ringing of a phone. She didn’t want to bother with it, but the ringing persisted, over and over, until on the third ring, she finally opened her eyes. Despite the long rest, her face still bore the marks of exhaustion, her eyes bloodshot.
Her eyes dry and sore, she took a deep breath, trying to clear her nose, but it only clogged more, even blocking her ears, leaving a buzzing sound.
It was unbearable.
Swallowing hard, tears emerged, and she felt even more fragile. She picked up her phone and saw that it was Garrison Reeves calling. Clearing her throat and trying to compose herself to her usual demeanor, she answered the call.
She didn’t want Garrison to worry about her being sick, but her cold was severe, evident in her voice.
Winifred Dawson had always been delicate, maintained over the years by Garrison’s generous support. Minor illnesses were frequent, major ones debilitating, and a common cold on her took a week of medication and injections to overcome due to her poor immunity.
“Garrison Reeves…” Her voice was already hoarse, and being sick only made it worse.
“Winifred, why is your voice so hoarse today? Has your cold worsened? I told you to buy medicine last night. Didn’t you get any?”
“I rushed home and didn’t buy any…” Knowing she couldn’t hide it from Garrison, Winifred confessed, “I planned to buy some today, but I was too tired to get out of bed. I thought sleeping would help, but I slept till now. It’s just a minor cold, shouldn’t be a problem. I’m not feeling too bad…”
No sooner had she claimed to not feel bad, a sneeze burst forth, bringing tears that rolled down from her eyes, dampening her dark eyelashes.
Her nose was increasingly blocked, making speaking difficult. She coughed dryly, enduring the discomfort, and struggled to sit up in bed. Her head spun, her vision blurred and doubled. She knew her body well enough to understand that this cold would be tough to get through.
“Just endure a little longer and lie down; I’ll be there soon,” Garrison’s worried voice came through the phone.
“Have you already come back?” Winifred asked with a nasal voice.
“I’m back, on my way home now, half an hour away.”
Winifred sniffled, holding back a cough, and added, “I was going to pick you up today, wanted to surprise you…” Life is unpredictable, and the events of last night were more than she could bear, feeling as if she had “betrayed” Garrison. Their relationship seemed tainted.
She wanted to pretend nothing had happened, but could she really deceive herself? What happened had happened; there was no moving forward, no going back.
Garrison chuckled, “Taking care of yourself and not getting sick would be the biggest surprise for me. Hang in there; I’ll be there soon.”
“Okay.” After saying this, Winifred hung up, gripped her phone, and lay back down. Her nose completely blocked, she breathed through her mouth, which only made her throat hurt more. The tears in her eyes lingered, blurring her vision as she stared at the ceiling light, which seemed to split into three.
Winifred Dawson slowly closed her eyes, hoping to clear her mind before opening them again when Garrison Reeves returned. However, as soon as she closed her eyes, she fell back into a faint sleep.
This fainting spell did not last long, perhaps because her body remained on alert, worried that Garrison Reeves would discover the injuries on her body.
When the front door was pushed open, Winifred Dawson was jolted awake. There were only two keys to this door-one for her and one for Garrison Reeves.
Thinking Garrison Reeves had returned, Winifred Dawson instinctively tried to sit up. Remembering her physical condition, she shrank back, pulling the covers over her head like a turtle retreating into its shell, plunging her world into darkness.
When Garrison Reeves had called Winifred Dawson, he sensed that she was unwell, but seeing her in person, her condition was even worse than he had imagined.
Seeing Winifred Dawson motionless under the covers, Garrison Reeves rushed over and pulled back the blanket to reveal her head.
Winifred Dawson had been clutching the blanket, but her strength was so weak that Garrison Reeves easily pulled it away. She instinctively brought her hands to her head, continuing to hide.
Seeing her still able to move, Garrison Reeves breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Winifred, I’m back.”
Winifred Dawson murmured a response, her voice weak and nasal.
Without regard for her cover, Garrison reached out to touch her forehead. Unbeknownst to him, the touch nearly scared the soul out of him.
Her temperature was at least 104 degrees-a high fever. Winifred Dawson’s body was like a little heater, her normally pale, anemic face now burnt red and swollen around the eyes.
Garrison Reeves shuddered at the thought. If he had delayed his flight and not returned today, what would have become of Winifred Dawson alone at home? She was already too sick to get out of bed, enduring by sleeping, her high fever unrelenting, possibly leading to severe complications.
“Hold on, I’ll take you to the hospital.” He had bought cold medicine on his way home, but seeing Winifred’s condition, a hospital visit and injections seemed inevitable.
Upon hearing the mention of the hospital, Winifred Dawson’s eyes snapped open, fully alert. If they went to the hospital, her “secret” might be discovered by Garrison Reeves. No… that would not do…
At least not yet. She was not ready to confess to Garrison Reeves. It would be best to keep it hidden forever if possible, as long as Garrison remained unaware, allowing her to deceive herself a little longer.
Garrison Reeves reached out to hold Winifred Dawson, but she pushed him away.
Winifred Dawson’s sudden strong reaction was unexpected to Garrison, his face showing surprise. “Winifred, what’s wrong?”
Winifred Dawson coughed dryly a couple of times, speaking between coughs, “I… I don’t want to go to the hospital… I’m not going.”
Her chest ached with each cough, as if her lungs were straining.
Seeing her in this state and still refusing the hospital, Garrison Reeves felt she was joking with her own health. His expression darkened and became serious. “You must go to the hospital. Your health is already poor, and delaying will only make it worse!”
“I don’t want to,” Winifred Dawson resisted going to the hospital, her eyes brimming with desperate tears.
Garrison Reeves knew that Winifred Dawson hated hospitals more than anything.
Of course, nobody liked going to the hospital.
However, Winifred Dawson had spent most of her years in and out of hospitals, and she was terrified of them.