-ˋˏ ༻Chapter 4༺ ˎˊ-

Layla considered checking Sean's temperature, but then pulled it back almost instantly, as if snapping out of a trance. She scolded herself inwardly, pushing away any trace of sympathy. Gritting her teeth, she hardened her heart and turned away from him, not wanting to acknowledge her own feelings.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath.

With that, she left the room, leaving Sean alone with his fever and troubled dreams.

__________________ ׂׂ୧ ‧₊˚🍵ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Groggily, Sean woke up some time later. His head was throbbing, and his throat felt like sandpaper.

"cough - cough-"He coughed, a dry and hacking cough that made his chest hurt.

He sat up slowly, wincing at the lingering pain in his body, and realized how thirsty he was. Looking around the room, he saw that it was dark outside, indicating it was probably evening. He could hear the distant sounds of traffic from outside, muffled by the windows. The room was silent otherwise, except for his own ragged breaths and coughs that echoed in the stillness.

"Cough Cough ugh-"

With some struggle, Sean managed to stand up and stumbled to the kitchen. Each step felt like a chore, and he had to steady himself against the wall a few times. The cool marble floor under his bare feet felt soothing against his heated skin. Once he reached the kitchen, he grabbed a glass, filled it with water, and chugged it down, the cold water a soothing relief for his sore throat. After quenching his thirst, Sean realized that he hadn't eaten anything since he fell ill. He rummaged through the cupboards, looking for something easy to prepare and eat. His stomach churned with hunger, but at the same time, the very thought of eating made his nausea worse. He eventually found a loaf of bread and some spread. Knowing he needed something in his stomach, he made himself a simple sandwich, taking small bites to prevent further nausea.

"cough"

As he carefully chewed on his meal, the coughing fit returned. His breaths became shallower, chest hurts with every cough that rips through him. Sean tried to drink more water to clear his chest, but the discomfort persisted. The fever was rising, making his throat feel raw and sore. He finished his sandwich, forcing it down as much as he could, despite the discomfort. He leaned against the kitchen counter, drained and feverish. Feeling lightheaded from the exertion and fever, Sean stumbled back towards the bedroom, determined to rest more despite the discomfort. The walk, however, was too much for him in his weakened state. Before he could make it, darkness crept into the edges of his vision, and his legs gave in. Sean collapsed onto the floor, his world spinning before everything went black.

__________________ ׂׂ୧ ‧₊˚🍵ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Layla stood in a dimly lit hospital room, a doctor by her side, explaining Sean's condition after giving him appropriate and needed treatment. Her face was a mix of worry and frustration, and her eyes never leaving Sean's unconscious form. The doctor's voice was professional but tinged with concern.

"Mrs. Layla, your husband's condition is serious. It seems it was caused by extreme exhaustion, as your husband's body has been pushed beyond its limits. The constant stress and physical strain have weakened his immune system, made him makes it easy to catch a fever, also the lack of rest and support have taken a toll on his mental well-being, leading to depression and anxiety. His fainting was the body's way of forcing him to take a break before his condition becomes even more severe." he paused and glanced at Sean before returning his focus on Layla.

"If I may know, what has your husband been doing lately for him to reach this state?"

Layla frowned, avoiding the doctor's gaze, her fists clenched tightly. She knew the truth behind Sean's exhaustion but refused to admit it to herself and especially to the doctor.

"Work. He's been working a lot lately, trying to meet deadlines and responsibilities," she replied evasively, the truth mixed with lies rolling off her tongue with ease.

The doctor observed her closely, noticing the tension in her voice. He pressed further,

"I see, but the level of exhaustion he's experiencing usually doesn't come from just overworking. Are there any other underlying factors or stressful situations that might contribute to this? Like family problems?"

Layla stiffened, her knuckles turning white from the tightness of her grip. She knew he suspected something, but she was unwilling to expose the darker truth about her relationship with Sean.

"No. He probably got it from work" She lied. The doctor just sighed inwardly at her denial.

"Alright," he said,

"The truth is, I've conducted some tests and found that his blood pressure is extremely low, his heart rate is irregular, and his body is severely dehydrated. It's clear to me that his condition is directly related to the prolonged physical and mental stress he's been enduring."

Layla's gaze shifted between the doctor and Sean, a flicker of guilt crossing her eyes despite her cold demeanor. She didn't want to admit that she was part of the reason for Sean's current situation, but deep down, she knew her toxic and abusive behavior had contributed significantly to his exhaustion and stress.

"I've already administered necessary medication through the IV drip," the doctor continued.

"He needs complete rest, a balanced diet, and a healthy lifestyle to fully recover. But more importantly, he needs to address the root cause of his stress and find healthier ways to cope with it." His eyes met Layla's, a note of urgency in his voice.

"If he doesn't make these changes soon, his condition could worsen, and he might even develop chronic health issues. It's not sustainable to continue the way he has been, both for his physical health and for his mental well-being."

The doctor's words hung in the air, leaving a heavy silence in the room. Layla looked at Sean, her coldness melting slightly as she took in his frail form, the IV drip attached to his wrist, the visible signs of his weakened state. The doctor then glanced at the clock on the wall.

"I have to get going now. A nurse will come by sporadically to check on him. If you have any concerns or need any advice, please don't hesitate to ask her." he gently placed a hand on Layla's shoulder.

"Your husband is lucky to have you by his side. Give him all the support and understanding he needs, and he'll be on the road to recovery in no time."

With that, the doctor left the room, leaving Layla alone with her thoughts and a still-unconscious Sean.

__________________ ׂׂ୧ ‧₊˚🍵ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

In the quiet sanctuary of her bedroom, Sophia sat at her sleek glass desk, her mind lost in thought. The room was decorated with minimalist furniture and accessories, accented with a soothing shade of soft grey and white. Her thoughts wandered to Sean, who looked unwell this morning, and her heart was filled with concern for his wellbeing. The night stretched on, and although she tried to sleep, she couldn't shake off the concern that gnawed at her. She tossed and turned, her mind replaying the events of the previous day and Sean's declining health. The more she thought, the more restless she grew, until finally, she couldn't bear it anymore. Rising from the bed, Sophia reached her cellphone.

'Should I call or text him? Or will I just going to disturb his rest?' she thought and sighed in frustration

'I am very worried'

In fact, it wasn't the first time she found Sean looked sick when he went to work. He always has dark circles under his eyes and looked tired. Sometimes, she even noticed small bruises or cuts on his face or body like he just got hit. But whenever she asked about where did he get those things, he always said that he just fell or something like that. She was once, asks if his wife, Mrs Layla abused him, and he was flustered for a brief moment before brushed it off and saying as if she's being silly. And since then, he seemed to distanced himself and draw more line between them.

A part of Sophia believed that Sean was in an abusive relationship, and it pained her to see him enduring the torment silently, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions without solid evidence. She decided not to press him any further about the matter, respecting his decision not to discuss it. But the concern never left her mind, and whenever she saw him, it lingered in the background like a shadow. She sighed again, feeling helpless and frustrated. She wished she could do something, anything, to make him understand that he deserved better, but she was unsure how to approach the situation delicately.

"Aghhh! it's killing me!" she yelled in frustration.

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