Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
I shrug and shake my head. Neither seems appealing.
“I’ll deal with the hall and come back to check on you.” At least one of us can make decisions.
He kisses my temple and leaves me with Callie, returning a handful of minutes later, which seems impossible considering the mess. Thankfully, Callie has stopped heaving.
“How are my girls?” he asks.
“I think I have the flu.” Callie lets him pick her up and rests her head on his shoulder.
“I think maybe you’re right.” Roman carries her out of the bathroom. “Should we get you into some jammies and have a little snuggle on the couch?”
“What if I’m sick again?” she asks.
“We’ll have everything we need, just in case.”
I trail behind them, feeling wildly incompetent.
He sets Callie on her bed. “I’ll get everything set up in the living room.” He kisses my cheek and leaves me to help her change.
“I’m sorry I threw up in the hall,” she says as I tuck her feet into slippers.
“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” It feels like mine thanks to the stress we’re all under.
Roman knocks on the door. “How’s it going in there?”
“You can come in!” I should be able to handle a sick little girl on my own, but I’m barely coping.
“Want a ride to the living room?” he asks.
Callie grabs her stuffed axolotl as he swoops in again to pick her up. Out in the living room, a towel covers one arm of the couch, a blanket laid out beside it. Close by is a bowl and a glass of water, along with some children’s flu medication. Callie’s favorite movie is cued up. Roman settles her on the couch and starts the movie. Half an hour in, I get a delivery alert.
“I ordered some stuff. I'll go down and get it,” Roman offers.
Two pillows are stacked on his lap, and Callie is snuggled up with him, her feet tucked under my leg. He gave her some flu medicine, and she’s already half asleep.
“That’s okay. I’ll grab it.” I leave the two of them on the couch and take the elevator to the lobby.
Of course Roman thought of everything. The bag contains soda crackers, plain noodles, ginger ale, a gel ice pack, and electrolyte-replacement freezies. I love how thoughtful and action-oriented he is. But I worry that I'm starting to see a pattern. He keeps saving us, especially me, and I don’t want that to unbalance our relationship. But I can’t decide if it’s rooted in my fear of ending up like my mother, or that I’m just particularly sensitive because of my current situation.
Callie has passed out by the time I return, so I gather her up and put her to bed. Fee is holed up in her room, uninterested in getting the flu since she has a math test tomorrow.
I motion for Roman to follow me down the hall to my bedroom.
He pulls the door closed and pushes my hair over my shoulders. “How are you?”
“Okay.” I fiddle with the collar of his shirt.
“You don’t seem okay. Callie being sick is stressing you out on top of everything else?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I blow out a breath.
He tips my chin up. “What aren’t you saying, angel?”
“I can handle Callie when she’s sick. I’ve done it before. I mean, you’ve probably done a lot more of it than I have, and I absolutely appreciate you stepping in and helping…” I pause, hating my own vulnerabilities. But he’s my partner and saying nothing won’t make anything better.
“But…” He strokes my cheek, encouraging me, telling me with actions that honesty isn’t just okay, it’s essential.
“I’m not used to being saved all the time, Roman, and you are very good at it. Part of that is my own issue. My mom had a lot of hard feelings when she and my dad split up, and I realize that to stay on her side, I avoided asking him for help. I need to work on that, but when you come in and try to fix everything, I feel like I don’t have a handle on my own shit.”
He fingers a tendril of my hair. “You absolutely have a handle on your shit, Lexi.”
“Do I, though? We got married to save my job. And I absolutely want to be married to you, but now I’m on leave and I feel...I don’t know. Like I’ve lost my agency, maybe? You’re running interference with the Terror while I’m here, just sort of paralyzed. Now Callie is sick, and again, you show up and save the day. I love that you’re a problem solver, Roman, but I want to feel like your partner and not someone you need to take care of.”
He frowns, absorbing. “Do you feel steamrolled?”
“Not steamrolled. You’re just so capable, and I love that about you. It’s easy for you to step in and fix things. You’re ruthlessly competent. But sometimes, like tonight, I question my ability to handle things. I worry I won’t measure up. I know part of this is me and my own hang-ups, but with the girls I need to be your equal. Especially right now.”