Loving Him (Him Series Book 1)

Eighteen

Kyle was released from the hospital the next day.

A week later Izabelle was still ignoring me. I'd called and sent texts that went unanswered. Katie said she'd get over it, but I wasn't as sure and it hurt because I knew Izzy was right. I lied. I kept secrets, and I betrayed our friendship.

I felt like a failure. Not just as a friend but as a follower of Christ. When I accepted Jesus as my Savior, I expected to be freed from sin but I still struggled. Glancing at my watch, I saw I still had time on my lunch break. I opened my Bible to Romans 7:9 and read.

...For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing...

There was comfort in knowing that even the great apostle Paul, who had brought many to Christ, struggled with sin. I understood he was not condoning sin, rather describing the battle believers face when they struggle to stop sinning and do the Lord's work.

Please, Lord, forgive me for lying to Izabelle. Heal her pain and help her to forgive me. Give me strength and wisdom to serve you well.

At the end of the day, I think my prayer was all that sustained me. My head ached and I was tired. The hours crawled. I finally finished my paperwork and headed home.

I'd worked extra hours the last few days to make up for the time I'd taken off to be with Kyle after his surgery. I was exhausted. I thought it was the long hours or stress about Izabelle, but as the day wore on I continued to feel achy and sluggish.

Too tired to make dinner I decided a shower might help, but it just made me sleepy. I rarely got sick.  Apparently, I was going to make up for it because when I took my temperature it read 102.  I fell onto my bed and buried my head into my pillow.

I slept the night and woke up the next day, but fell quickly back to sleep. The next time I opened my eyes, I was sure I was dreaming because Kyle was sitting beside me on the bed. He wore jeans, boots, and a maroon button-down shirt. His jaw was set as he folded a wet cloth on my head.

"You look like a handsome Prince." My voice sounded as croaky as a frog.

He chuckled, feeling my forehead. "You're still burning up."

"I mean it. You're like something from a fairytale." I stared at him in awe.

"You're starting to worry me, sweetheart. You don't want to get dehydrated."

"You shouldn't be here. I'm probably contagious."

He rearranged the pillow beneath my head so I was sitting up a bit. "Here, drink this," he said, ignoring my comment about getting him sick.

My dry lips fastened on the straw. "Hmm. It's good. What is it?"

"A mixture of juices—orange, apple, grape. They gave it to me in the hospital."

"Thank you." I felt awful and looked even worse. "Why are you here?"

He set the plastic cup on the nightstand. "Katie called."

"I don't want to ruin your day."

"It's seven at night. I'd have come sooner if I'd known you needed me."

It was hard to believe I'd slept the entire day. "You don't have to stay."

"Where else would I be?" He brushed a few strands of hair from my cheek with his fingertips. "I brought some soup and if you feel like eating."

"I love you." I closed my eyes, enjoying how it felt to be taken care of.

I slept and when I woke up again Kyle was still in the recliner beside my bed. We watched several reruns and he fixed me a bowl of chicken noodle soup and juice. I doubted I'd ever get to the point where doing nothing with him wasn't the most wonderful part of my day.