I woke up feeling terrible, my head was pounding, and my throat felt like sandpaper. I had a fever, and I could barely move. I knew I was going to be out of commission for the day, and that was frustrating.
I had a lot of work to do, but my body was not cooperating. I sighed and tried to get up, but I couldn't. My boyfriend, Ethan, was sitting next to me, holding my hand.
"Hey, hey, don't try to get up," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "You need to rest."
"I know, but I have so much to do," I protested weakly.
"You can do it later," he replied firmly. "Right now, you need to take care of yourself. You're sick."
I sighed and sank back into the bed, feeling helpless. I hated being sick, and I hated feeling like I couldn't do anything. Ethan got up from the bed and disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned, he had a tray in his hands with a cup of hot tea and some toast.
"Here, drink this," he said, handing me the tea. "It'll make you feel better."
I took a sip of the tea, and it felt like heaven. It was warm and comforting, and it seemed to soothe my sore throat. Ethan sat with me for a while, holding my hand and talking to me. He made me laugh, and he told me stories. He was like a ray of sunshine on a dark and cloudy day.
As the day went on, Ethan took care of me. He made me meals, brought me medicine, and even gave me a massage to help me relax. He wouldn't let me get out of bed, no matter how much I protested. He said I needed to rest and that he would take care of everything else.
I felt grateful and loved. Ethan was taking care of me, and I knew that he would do anything for me. It was comforting to know that I had someone who cared so much about me. As I drifted off to sleep that night, I felt better than I had all day. I knew that I was in good hands with Ethan and that he would always be there for me, no matter what.