𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 70 : 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐨 𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭?

𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐍𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬°°° 

Antonio let out a slow exhale —“Sure, buddy. Sit and watch her, I will be right back.”

Junior sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, elbows on his knees, fingers pressed against his lips — watching every breath she took.

Inside the kitchen, he preheated the leftover from the morning and served him.

Junior ate and Antonio rocked him back to sleep.

 

The oblivious boy lolled against his abs and used it as a pillow while he stayed vigil until dawn. In the early morning when the fever finally broke, he exhaled for the first time and eased Junior on the bed.

A few minutes before seven, Nevena woke with a sharp gasp, her lashes fluttering as though tearing out of a nightmare.

“Oh my God—” she tried to sit up, sweeping the bedding back in panic.

But the second she lifted herself, a firm hand pressed gently but immovably to her shoulder.

“Stop,” his voice was low but firm.

 

She blinked at him — he was sitting right beside her, on the chair, hair messed, shirtless…just the same towel from yesterday, eyes sharp and sleepless.

“You shouldn’t be moving yet.” 

His tone brooked no argument, but she still argued weakly. “I’m fine — I need to go.”

Pushing the blanket completely away, she tried swinging her legs off the bed, oblivious to the IV syringe in her wrist. “I’m late. Junior's mother would be furious. I don’t even know what—”

The needle juggled and she felt a searing pain in her wrist. “W..why am I on IV?”

“Seriously,” Antonio scoffed. “You get to wake up and pretend yesterday didn’t happen,”  

He reached past her and eased her back against the pillow as though she weighed nothing. “Lie down.”

Nevena pushed weakly at his wrist. “Detective Ma'am will—”

“She’ll live,” he muttered. “You almost collapsed on me last night.” 

 Her breath faltered.

“Yes— you had a fever of 102” he continued, his jaw tight with unspoken panic. “You were shaking in your sleep”

She stared at him— completely unaware of what happened.

Antonio leaned forward, voice quieter, “You scared the hell out of me, Nina. For that reason you’re not leaving this bed.”

Her lips parted, eyes almost watering. “Junior has to go to school” she tried to push herself up again.

He guided her back against the pillow —unyielding.

“Don’t make me pick up ropes and put you back down,” he warned, voice low, protective.

He reached for the cool washcloth he’d been changing all night and pressed it gently to her forehead.

 “I’ll take Junior home. You don't have to worry.”

“Are you sure you can manage?” Nevena asked.

“No,” he looked back at her, “…but I'm doing it. Just tell me you’re sick next time, before you collapse?”

Nevena blinked at the unexpected tenderness under the reprimand.

He straightened, smoothing his palm over her hair.  “I’ll drop him off and be right back.”

She watched him yank Junior awake and into his arm —

his other hand slung his backpack over his shoulder like he’d done it all his life.

Even after the door closed long behind them, she remained immobile.

 

A tear soon slid down.

Not from pain — but from the absurd, terrifying truth that someone else apart from Alexandria cared enough to lose sleep over her.

—

Meanwhile at Breanna's house, she was halfway down her porch steps, keys between her fingers, when a sleek black SUV cut sharply across her driveway and braked.

Her spine stiffened, her suspension was over today and the first thing she met was Antonio.

The driver's door burst open and he appeared with a backpack half-zipped.

Junior scrambled out almost immediately, hair sticking up.

“Such a wench ?” Breanna’s brows pinched, 

“Morning Mummy” Junior yawned, walking up to her.

“What the hell happened to you?” Breanna whiffed, her gaze snapping to Antonio. “Not even a little grooming?” 

“Bestie caught a fever,” Junior whispered loudly — eyes big. “Really sick.”

Antonio didn't utter a word to her, he just eased off the back pack at her foot, his hand reached out and brushed the little boy's hair.

“See you some other time champ” His voice was clipped but calm.

He turned and stepped back into his vehicle.

The gesture made Breanna's stomach twist, but before she could respond he drove off.

Junior waved wildly after the vehicle, bouncing on his toes as though watching a superhero depart.

Breanna just stood there, speechless, hand tightening on her keys.

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐀’𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄..

Twenty minutes later, the outside lock clicked.

Nevena quickly swiped her tear, waiting for him to appear.

Antonio stepped in — fully suited. He set his keys down at the dresser, glancing at her.

“You didn't move right?,” he asked flatly.

Nevena sat up a little “No— you asked me not to”

“When did you become so obedient?” he approached, towering at the bedside.

His thumb brushed her cheek where a tear had dried. “I’m impressed.”

Nevena swallowed hard. “I don’t always argue.”

 

Antonio placed the back of his knuckles to her forehead — testing her temperature.

“You’re improving,” he murmured, low. “Good.”

Then — he sat beside her, setting a small bag on the bedside table.