Joe tugged at his tie, frustration evident in his movements. His eyes darkened as he glanced at Skylar. “Skylar, you’re running a fever of 102.2 degrees. You need to take some medicine,” he said gravely, his voice soft but firm.
When Skylar heard the word “medicine,” a deep frown crossed her face. Her body tensed, and she gritted her teeth in an effort to suppress the wave of emotions rushing over her. “I hate you, Christopher!” she muttered weakly, her voice trembling from the fever.
Joe froze at the mention of Christopher’s name. He saw the tears shimmering on Skylar’s pale face, and it hit him—this wasn’t just about the fever. There was something much deeper at play. She was in pain, not just physically, but emotionally, too. He saw her lips trembling, clenched so tightly that they looked like they might bleed. The sight of her distress made his stomach tighten with a protective instinct he hadn’t fully acknowledged before.
“Skylar, wake up,” Joe urged gently, his voice a little rougher than he intended. He wasn’t sure if she could hear him, but he was determined to make sure she was okay.
Skylar’s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, the world around her seemed surreal. The dreamlike haze that had surrounded her faded away, but the ache in her chest remained. As her eyes focused, she saw Joe, standing there beside her. The warmth of his presence was comforting, but her heart still ached from the past.
She reached out a shaky hand toward him, the simple gesture speaking volumes about her vulnerability. “Thank you. Is that aspirin? Give it to me,” she asked weakly, her voice hoarse from the fever.
Joe studied her face for a long moment before he passed her the medicine along with a glass of water. He didn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. There was a part of him that wanted to stay, to make sure she was okay, but he knew she was a strong woman, even if she didn’t always show it.
“I’ll feel better after taking this. Please get some rest, Mr. Martin,” Skylar added, trying to sound more composed, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.
Joe’s eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her, wondering if she was truly as okay as she claimed to be. “You’ll be okay by yourself?” he asked, his tone colder than he felt inside.
Skylar gave a faint smile, her lips still pale. “Yes. It’s just a cold and a fever. Nothing serious,” she reassured him, even though she didn’t quite believe it herself. It was a small comfort, a way of maintaining her independence.
Joe, still unsure whether to believe her, glanced at her one last time before turning to leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trying to put on a brave face in front of him, hiding the emotional toll that the past had taken on her. But for now, there was nothing more he could do. He left quietly, the door clicking shut behind him.
Once he was gone, Skylar collapsed back onto the bed, exhaustion seeping into her bones. The fever had left her drained, but her thoughts kept racing. The dream she had felt so real—like a haunting echo from another life. The feelings it stirred in her, the memories, they wouldn’t go away so easily.
Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. She picked it up with a tired sigh, seeing Steven’s name on the screen. “Steven,” she answered softly.
“Why do you sound so weak, Skye? Are you sick?” Steven’s voice came through quickly, concern clear in his tone. He had watched her grow up, and he knew the signs when she wasn’t feeling well.
Skylar’s eyes prickled with the onset of tears. It must have been the fever clouding her judgment, but she missed her family so much. “I’m okay, Steven. It’s just a minor cold. I’ll feel better after a nap.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Where are you living now? I’m not busy, I can take care of you,” Steven offered, his worry evident.
Skylar quickly thought up an excuse, not wanting to reveal too much just yet. “I’m renting with someone now. My housemate will take care of me. Don’t worry, Steven.”
Steven seemed to relax a bit. “Alright, as long as you’re not alone. But wait—has something happened with you and Christopher?”
Skylar’s heart skipped at the mention of his name. “I’ve broken up with him. Has he looked for you?” she asked, her voice betraying a hint of pain. The memory of their tumultuous relationship still stung, and her feverish delirium didn’t help.
“He just called me, asking where you were. You should’ve broken up with him earlier! I’ve never liked him. I feel like he’s changed for the worse these last two years,” Steven said, frustration clear in his voice.
Skylar’s heart tightened at his words. She had been so blind in her past life, so unable to see the truth about Christopher. She could feel the weight of regret press on her chest, and she gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I should’ve seen it sooner.”
Steven paused, his voice softening. “Don’t blame yourself, Skye. He was never right for you.”
“Steven, come take a look at this,” Skylar said, suddenly shifting the conversation, her attention on something that had caught her eye. “Don’t you think this thesis looks like yours?”
Skylar could hear voices in the background, someone calling Steven’s name. She frowned, a feeling of unease creeping up her spine. “Has something happened, Steven?” she asked, her voice suddenly filled with concern.
The phone went silent for a moment, and Skylar couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
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