The CEO's Wife

Chapter 12 - Communication

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Sara's POV

"I beg of you!", I finally tried, nearly in tears of frustration and on my knees as this went nowhere. Four hours. Four hours we had been 'arguing' over this decision. My throat was dry. My legs ached. I just wanted this to end. "I'm tired of arguing about this already! I won't die Michael!"

"We are not arguing", he raised his voice and head, crossing his arms even more. His angry, frustrated expression only hardened more. Blue eyes flashed at me sternly. "You know what the doc told you. And I said no."

"Yeah we are!", I scoffed. "And you know how boring it gets laying in bed all the time! Do I need to remind you of December?", I bit, fuming. "What difference does it make if I read in bed or in the library?"

"The bed. The rest. The fact you are sick."

"I-", I stopped myself, tugging at my hair annoyed and furiously, grinding my teeth together and biting my lip not to say anything. "Fine!"

I marched towards the door. Michael sprinted at me. I raised a finger at him.

He stopped.

I gave him my death glare. "Either I go to the library on my own or with you. I won't stay glued in bed and if you continue this charade of 'I might die the second I even breathe wrong' then I will sleep in a different room, you hear me? I know you are scared and worried, but don't you think I am as well?"

 I let it sit between us as his face went neutral and his eyes traveled far.

"Don't you think you are suffocating me when you tug the blanket any time it's crooked, when you follow me to the toilet, when you make sure I hold nothing on my own? I love that you care, don't get me wrong, I love that you want to help me, but it's frustrating the way you do it. I know you are scared", I repeated, fully turning to him "I know you are worried the past might repeat itself, but I'm not weak. I know my own limits. I feel fine, I haven't thrown up since after lunch and I feel great. No dizziness, no weakness, no sleepiness. I want to use the chance I'm relatively ok and do what I enjoy. And I want to do it with you, but if you try to control me I just want to run away. It sets off something in me that begs me, no, screams at me to run away."

I fumbled for further words. I didn't want to say he was overdoing it, not when blank fear was written so clearly on his face, I didn't want to be an asshole to him, because if one man didn't deserve it, then it was my husband who gave me the world. It was just suffocating sometimes.

"You make me feel like a baby, useless", I whispered the last part, lowering my gaze. "Which I know I'm not."

Michael finally moved - and he drew me into his arms. "I won't apologize", he said against my hair. "I can't bite back my worry. I won't swallow it. I lost my brother due to a stoppable disease and ever since I panic. You know that. You know how I first reacted when you couldn't move due to your period pain."

He had nearly called the ambulance, his voice shrill ...

"I know."

"Yet you beg me to let you be?"

"I'm begging you to not suffocate me." I searched his eyes, waited to find something in them. "I want to sit in the library, not jump around. I want to read. Relax. Take my mind off of things. Don't you think it's making me anxious having to wait days for the result?", I looked him squarely into his eyes. I didn't want to say I cried when he let me be on my own, worried something was really off with me, didn't want to say it or else he would probably chain me in fear to the bed. "It's worse for me, knowing I'm the one who is sick."