Chapter 801

chapter801

Skylar rationalized that a single dose of antipyretics wouldn't be harmful, especially since Joe’s symptoms mirrored those of a common cold. His eyes were bloodshot, and his voice carried a heavy nasal congestion.

Joe noticed that while Skylar was remarkably patient with him, an invisible wall had grown between them. Their interactions felt even more distant than they had been when they first met. It was as if his heart were being constricted, leaving him feeling stifled and profoundly uncomfortable.

Seeing Joe staring at her with such intensity, Skylar could no longer maintain the pretense of being busy. She turned to him, her voice filled with a quiet helplessness. "Is there anywhere else you feel unwell, Mr. Martin?"

"No," he replied. "That's all."

"You should get some rest," Skylar said, glancing at the clock. It was already 9:00 PM.

Joe didn't respond with words. Instead, he reached out and pulled her down onto the bed beside him. Startled, Skylar gasped, "What are you doing?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything," Joe murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, the familiar warmth and scent acting as an immediate balm to his restless mind.

Gradually, drowsiness took hold. Skylar remained frozen, speechless at his bluntness. Within seconds, the rhythm of his steady breathing filled the quiet room. She wondered how he could fall asleep so quickly, especially since she still smelled faintly of the fondue they had eaten earlier. She tried to shift away, but his grip was like iron.

Fine, she thought. I'll just make do. However, sleeping next to him was like lying beside a human furnace. His body was radiating an intense heat. Skylar managed to drift off, but her sleep was fitful and shallow. She hadn't changed out of her clothes, and the warmth made her break into a light sweat.

An hour later, she woke up and checked the time; it was just past 10:00 PM. Joe was now in a deep sleep. She reached out to touch his forehead and realized the antipyretics had done their job. The burning heat from earlier had dissipated, and his temperature felt normal. His breathing was even—much gentler than it had been when he first collapsed.

Gently, Skylar managed to untangle herself from his embrace and slipped out of bed. She headed straight for the bathroom, needing a shower to wash away the sweat and the scent of food before she could truly rest.

Thirty minutes later, she emerged. Joe had rolled to the other side of the bed in his sleep. Skylar climbed back in carefully, leaving enough space between them for a third person. But once she was asleep, Joe instinctively moved closer, as if the distance was a void he couldn't tolerate. He reached out and pulled her back into his arms, anchoring her to him once more.

When Skylar woke again, the morning light was struggling against the heavy curtains. Her first instinct was to check Joe’s forehead. His temperature was still normal, and she let out a long sigh of relief.

Suddenly, Joe’s eyes snapped open. In the dim, filtered light, his gaze appeared dark and heavy. He didn't look like someone who had just woken up; he looked as though he had been watching her for a long time.

Skylar felt a prickle of unease. "How are you feeling now?"

"Much better," Joe said, sitting up and stretching his stiff muscles.

Skylar relaxed. "That's good. I'll have the hotel send breakfast over. You should eat and see if any other symptoms crop up."

"Alright."

Skylar retreated to the bathroom to get ready for the day. By the time she came out, a lavish breakfast had been delivered—a delightful spread featuring a blend of regional Floan and Wiscadian delicacies that actually looked appetizing.

She picked up her phone from the bedside table and noticed a string of notifications. Caleb had called seven or eight times within the last twenty minutes, and there was also a missed call from Aiken.

A sense of urgency gripped her. She decided to return Caleb's call first, wondering what could be so pressing so early in the morning.