Monday morning, two days after the engagement celebration.
Emma woke up with a feeling that was not right. Emma's body felt heavy. Emma's head felt pounding. Emma felt chills even though the blanket covered her completely.
Emma reached for the thermometer that was on the nightstand. Emma checked her temperature.
38.5 degrees Celsius. High fever.
Emma groaned. Emma didn't have time to be sick. The project was in the implementation phase. Emma had coordination with local suppliers. Emma had scheduled meetings.
Emma tried to get up from bed, but immediately felt dizzy. Emma sat back down.
Marcus had already gone to the office this morning. Marcus had an early meeting with a client. Emma was supposed to follow later after checking on Lily.
Emma called Lily into the bedroom.
"Morning, Sister!" greeted Lily with a cheerful voice. Lily immediately noticed that Emma didn't look good. "Sister, are you okay? You look pale."
"I have a fever, sweetheart," explained Emma with a weak voice. "But I will be okay. You need to go to school today. I arranged for the neighbor to help you get ready."
"But Sister is sick," protested Lily with concern. "Who will take care of my sister?"
"Sister will rest," assured Emma. "Sister will be fine."
Emma texted Marcus.
"I have fever. I'm gonna stay home today. Don't need you to come back early."
But Marcus's response was immediate.
"What's your temperature? I'm coming home. You need rest and care."
"Marcus, you have an important meeting," texted back Emma.
"You're more important," responded Marcus. "Canceling. Be home in 30 minutes."
Emma felt frustrated that she tried to suppress. Emma didn't want Marcus to cancel an important meeting because of her fever. But at the same time, Emma felt vulnerable and actually wanted Marcus to be home.
Around 10 AM, Marcus arrived at home.
Marcus immediately went to the bedroom and saw Emma.
Emma already looked bad. Emma's skin looked clammy. Emma's eyes looked glazed. Emma was shivering even though outside was warm.
"Oh, Emma," whispered Marcus while approaching the bed. Marcus touched Emma's forehead with a gentle hand. "You are very hot."
"I'm sorry," mumbled Emma. "I didn't want to disturb your day."
"Shhh," said Marcus gently. "Don't apologize for being human and getting sick. That's part of life."
Marcus helped Emma sit up slightly.
"First, we need you to drink something," said Marcus. "You need to stay hydrated."
Marcus went to the kitchen and prepared a glass of water with electrolyte powder that was good for fever. Marcus brought it to Emma and helped her drink.
"Good girl," said Marcus with an encouraging tone. "You're doing good."
After Emma finished the water, Marcus decided that Emma needed proper care.
"I'm going to make you soup," said Marcus. "Proper homemade soup that will help with the fever."
"Marcus, you don't need—" started Emma to protest.
"Shhh," interrupted Marcus. "No arguments. You just rest. Let me take care of you."
Marcus went to the kitchen.
Marcus worked with focused intensity. Marcus peeled garlic and ginger. Marcus cut chicken pieces. Marcus chopped vegetables. Marcus prepared broth that would extract all the nutrients that Emma needed.
While the soup was simmering, Marcus went back to check on Emma.
Emma had fallen asleep, but her sleep looked restless. Emma seemed uncomfortable in her fever.
Marcus carefully brought a cool compress and placed it on Emma's forehead. Marcus arranged pillows to make Emma more comfortable.
As Marcus watched Emma sleep, Marcus felt an overwhelming protectiveness.
A few months ago, if Emma got sick, there was no one to take care of her. Emma would have had to take care of herself while simultaneously taking care of Lily. Now, Emma had Marcus. Emma had someone who put her needs first.
Marcus felt grateful to be able to do this. To be able to care for the person he loved.
Around 1 PM, the soup was ready.
The broth was golden and fragrant. The chicken was tender. The vegetables were perfectly cooked but still retained their nutritional value. Marcus added fresh herbs as a finishing touch.
Marcus carefully brought a bowl of soup to the bedroom.
Marcus gently woke Emma.
"Emma, sweetheart, you need to eat something," said Marcus with a soft voice. "I made soup for you."
Emma opened her eyes slowly. Emma felt grateful that Marcus was there.
"Come on," encouraged Marcus. "Let me help you sit up."
Marcus carefully helped Emma sit up with extra pillows to support her back.
"This smells amazing," whispered Emma.
"This is chicken soup with ginger, garlic, and medicinal herbs that will help with the fever," explained Marcus. "My grandmother taught me how to make this when I was still young. She said that proper soup is the best medicine for a body that is struggling."
Marcus blew gently on a spoonful of soup to cool it slightly before bringing it to Emma's lips.
Emma took the first spoonful. Emma closed her eyes as the flavor warmed her from the inside out.
"This is incredible," said Emma.
"Just eat slowly," instructed Marcus. "Your body needs energy to fight the infection. But don't rush."
Marcus sat beside Emma on the bed while Emma slowly ate the soup. Marcus didn't leave her side. Marcus just was present while Emma slowly recovered her strength.
As Emma ate, Marcus told her stories.
"You know," said Marcus, "when I was young and got sick, my grandmother made this same soup for me. She sat with me while I ate. She said that love is the best ingredient in any medicine."
Emma listened while she continued to eat the soup slowly.
"My grandmother was a very wise woman," continued Marcus. "She taught me that taking care of people you love is one of the greatest gifts you can give. She said that presence matters more than words."
Emma finished the soup and leaned back against the pillows, feeling slightly better.
"Thank you," said Emma with sincere gratitude.
"For what?" asked Marcus.
"For being here. For cooking for me. For not making me feel guilty for being sick," answered Emma.
"That's because guilt is not warranted," said Marcus firmly. "Emma, being sick is a natural thing. Letting people you trust care for you is a healthy thing. You taught me that before. Remember? When you told me that I need to let people help me?"
Emma smiled slightly.
"I remember," confirmed Emma.
"Now it's my turn to remind you," said Marcus. "Let me care for you. That's all I want to do."
Marcus took the empty bowl from Emma's lap and replaced it with a cool compress for her forehead.
"Sleep now," encouraged Marcus. "Your body needs rest to recover. I will be here."
"Will you stay?" asked Emma with a small, vulnerable voice.
"Always," answered Marcus. "I'm not going anywhere."
Marcus sat in the chair beside the bed, prepared to stay the entire day if needed.
Throughout the afternoon, Emma drifted in and out of sleep. Each time Emma woke, Marcus was right there. Marcus brought fresh water. Marcus replaced the compress. Marcus made sure Emma was comfortable.
Around 4 PM, Lily came home from school.
The neighbor had picked her up because Marcus was home with Emma.
Lily immediately went upstairs to check on Emma.
"Sister, are you better?" asked Lily with concern.
"Getting better, sweetheart," said Emma from the bed. "Marcus is taking very good care of me."
Lily looked at Marcus with appreciation in her eyes.
"Thank you, Marcus, for taking care of my sister," said Lily with a maturity that was beyond her years.
"That's because your sister is a very special person," explained Marcus to Lily. "And people who are special deserve to be taken care of."
Marcus made Lily an afternoon snack while letting Emma rest more.
By evening, Emma's fever started to come down slightly. The temperature dropped to 38 degrees.
"That's a good sign," said Marcus with encouragement. "Your fever is starting to come down. Your body is fighting the infection."
Marcus prepared a light dinner for Emma. Congee with chicken broth. Easy to digest but nutritious.
"Eat just a small portion," instructed Marcus. "Your stomach is probably sensitive because of the fever."
Emma ate slowly while Marcus sat beside her.
"Get better soon, okay?" said Marcus while gently stroking Emma's hair. "I need my partner to be healthy."
"I'm trying," whispered Emma with a grateful smile.
That night, Marcus slept in the chair beside Emma's bed. Not comfortable, but Marcus didn't want to leave Emma alone.
During the middle of the night, Emma's fever spiked again. Emma started to shake with chills.
Marcus immediately woke. Marcus got a fresh cool cloth and carefully cooled Emma's skin. Marcus brought water and helped Emma drink.
"I'm here," whispered Marcus while staying close to Emma. "I'm here. Just focus on breathing. Your body is doing a good job of fighting this."
Emma gripped Marcus's hand while the chills passed.
"Thank you," whispered Emma.
"Shhh, sleep now," soothed Marcus. "I will watch over you."
And Marcus did exactly that. Marcus watched over Emma for the rest of the night. Protecting her. Caring for her. Being present when she needed him most.
By Tuesday morning, Emma's fever had come down to 37.5 degrees. There was still a fever, but much better.
Emma opened her eyes to find Marcus already awake, looking at her with a tender expression.
"Good morning," said Marcus with a smile. "How are you feeling?"
"Better," said Emma with an honest answer. "Still not 100%, but definitely better. Thank you for staying with me all night."
"Of course," said Marcus as if it was the obvious thing to do. "Where else would I be?"
Marcus prepared fresh soup for breakfast. Marcus encouraged Emma to drink plenty of water.
Throughout the day, Emma slowly recovered. The fever continued to come down. Emma felt stronger.
By Wednesday, Emma was good enough to return to work. But Marcus made her promise that she take extra care of herself. Marcus made her promise that if she felt dizzy or felt worse, she would immediately go home.
"Get better, okay?" said Marcus while kissing Emma's forehead before she left for work. "I need my fiancée to be healthy and strong."
Emma felt loved in a way that was deep and meaningful.
Not because of grand gestures. But because of simple acts of care. Of consistent presence. Of choosing to prioritize her wellbeing.
That was what true love looked like, Emma realized. Not fireworks and grand declarations. But quiet, steady presence. Reliable care. Unwavering support.
Emma was blessed to have found that with Marcus.