Chapter 29 - The Sickness
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It started as a slight cough on a Tuesday afternoon.
By Wednesday evening, Ethan was burning with a high fever.
For a man who had faced down armed assassins without blinking, Victor found himself completely unraveled by a microscopic virus.
He paced the hallway outside Ethan’s bedroom like a caged tiger.
His phone was in his hand, ready to call the private helicopter to take them to the best hospital in the country.
Lily walked out of the bedroom, holding a cool washcloth.
“Victor, stop pacing. You are making me dizzy.”
“What is his temperature?” Victor demanded, his voice thick with panic.
“It is 101. It is just a childhood flu. The pediatrician said it will pass in a few days.”
“I should call the specialist,” Victor insisted, tapping his screen. “I can have the head of infectious diseases here in twenty minutes.”
Lily walked over and gently took the phone out of his hand.
She looked at him with calm, patient eyes.
“Victor, look at me.”
He forced himself to meet her gaze.
“He is sick, Lily. He is suffering.”
“He is fighting a bug,” she corrected softly. “It is normal. Children get sick. Their immune systems have to learn how to fight.”
“I am supposed to protect him,” Victor whispered, the absolute core of his fear finally surfacing.
He had built walls to protect his son from bullets and bad men.
But he could not protect him from a simple fever.
It made him feel entirely powerless.
“You are protecting him,” Lily said, stepping closer and wrapping her arms around his waist. “By being here. By loving him. You can't control the whole world, Victor.”
Victor let out a long, ragged sigh, leaning his forehead against hers.
“I hate feeling helpless.”
“I know,” she whispered.
Victor took the cool washcloth from her hand.
“Let me sit with him.”
He walked into the dimly lit bedroom.
Ethan was curled in a tight ball, his small chest rising and falling quickly.
Victor sat on the edge of the bed and gently placed the damp cloth on his son’s burning forehead.
Ethan stirred, opening his heavy eyes.
“Daddy?”
“I’m right here, buddy,” Victor said softly, holding his small, hot hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Ethan closed his eyes, leaning into the cool touch.
Victor sat there for the rest of the night.
May you like
Listening to the rain against the window.
Learning that true strength was simply sitting in the dark, offering comfort when you could not offer a cure.
