Contagious Chemistry (Vic Fuentes) ✔️

Chapter 32: You Married Me To Get a Green Card

"We have to go to Saint Mary's, right now." I snapped quickly, throwing the comforter off me and jumping out of bed.

Vic didn't even ask any further questions as he threw on his shoes and I quickly got dressed. I swear to god if the car crash was the result of something that Johnnie did, then I was going to fucking lynch him.

We made our way to the hospital quickly enough. And luckily, because Kyle was known at the hospital for his frequent allergies, they knew me there as well, so I was immediately escorted to the room that he was in.

"Is he okay, though?" I asked, almost frantically as I followed the doctor at my side.

"He's alright." The doctor quickly answered. "He just has a mild concussion and a fractured wrist, he's going to be just fine." I nodded in understanding, relieved like fuck that he was at least okay and that his injuries weren't all too bad.

"His father, however, wasn't so lucky." The doctor then told me, instantly catching my attention. "It was his side of the car that made the impact with the truck. . . He didn't make it. He was intoxicated."

"Jesus." I gasped. Johnnie might've been an asshole, but he didn't deserve to die. But then again, he was driving my son while he was drunk. . . so okay, he pretty much deserved to die. Call me harsh, but Kyle could've been the dead one here. No one puts my son in danger and gets away with it.

"I'll give you a moment alone with him." The doctor then said, stopping in front of the hospital room door.

I gave him a curt nod and grabbed onto Vic's hand, who was still silently trailing behind me. It was stupid, perhaps, but I was scared of going in there alone. The only other times I had ever visited someone in the hospital was when I was younger and my idiot mother had overdosed. . . again.

I walked into the room, storming right up to the bed that Kyle was sitting in, dragging Vic in the with me.

"Mommy!" He exclaimed happily.

I smiled, finally letting go of Vic as I engulfed my pale-looking son into a tight but careful hug. "Christ, sweetie, I'm so glad you're okay." I breathed, holding him close to me.

I then slowly let go of him again and sat down on the edge of the bed, by his feet. Kyle's smile slowly faded, guilt taking over his little face. "He-he was so angry all morning. It's all my fault, isn't it?"

I could feel my chest tightening because of how sad he sounded. "Nothing's your fault, sweetie." I said, carefully caressing his cheek. "Your dad had been drinking, you know what he can be like when he does that. It wasn't your fault, okay?"

Kyle nodded slowly. "Do I have to go back home with him?" He asked worriedly.

I had to suppress a smile. I could tell in the tone of his voice that he didn't want to, but now he didn't have to either. He couldn't, even if he did want to.

"No, sweetie. You're coming home with Vic and me." I calmly said to him.

He smiled again and looked over my shoulder at Vic. "Really?" He wondered, his tone now becoming more hopeful.

I looked over and spotted Vic smiling and nodding as he came closer and sat down on the other side of the bed. "Yep. . . if you want to, of course." He then said.

Kyle nodded eagerly, bopping his head forth and back profusely before then groaning and stopping. "My head." He mumbled with pain.

I chuckled a little and messed up his hair. "You hurt your head in the car, sweetie. So don't get yourself too worked up."

"Okay." He whispered, fixing his own hair again with his hand that wasn't wrapped up in a cast.

I looked at Vic again and silently hinted that I wanted to talk to him outside. Luckily, he got the hint and started walking out of the room. I turned to Kyle and told him I'd be right back before I left as well.

"What's up?" Vic asked, as soon as I closed the door behind me.

I sighed deeply, running my hands through my hair. "Are you sure about this? I mean. . . if you're not okay with it—"

"Max, stop." Vic said, interrupting me as he moved closer and placed his hands on my hips. "Of course I'm okay with it. He's your son, where else would he go?"

I nodded slowly, looking away, but Vic wouldn't have it. He placed his finger underneath my chin and made me look up at him again. "Kyle needs his mother. . . and honestly I think it'll be fun having him around. He's coming home with us, and that's not up for debate. We already talked about this earlier, and I'm not changing my mind, I promise."

A small smile formed on my lips. "Thank you." I whispered.

"Anything for the wifey."

I rolled my eyes while he laughed. I definitely was never going to get used to the whole wife thing. Jesus. That was a title for old people. Either way, I did love it, though. I couldn't deny that.

Vic quickly pecked my lips and smiled.

"Let's go ask the doctor when he can leave." He suggested softly.

I nodded and was about to walk down the hall in search for a doctor, when my stomach suddenly seemed to cramp up. A burning liquid travelled up my throat and I knew that I wasn't going to be able to hold it back.

I pushed myself past Vic and spotted a trashcan. I ran over to it and emptied my stomach contents into the tall, silver can like there was no tomorrow.

See? I told you that Vic's fluffiness and sweetness was going to make me throw up at some point.

Before long, I felt a hand rubbing my back, and of course I knew that it was Vic. "Oh my god." I groaned, feeling my head throb.

"I hate to say it, but I told you so. . . you're sick, babe." Vic then said, slight amusement lacing his tone of voice. Dick.

"No, it's you." I pointed out a little bitterly, smacking whatever part of him that I could reach. "Either that or I caught salmonella at the diner."

Vic snorted. "That wouldn't surprise me at all."