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I frowned when I realized I wasn't well. Last night had been colder than usual, and I was snuggling closer to Brian to warm me up, but now I knew my husband had been awake a while ago, he was no longer there.
When I struggled to get up to find him, I simply felt too weak or too dizzy to get to my feet. I also felt my throat scraping, my head throbbing, I was definitely sick.
It was frustrating to be like this, it made me feel useless, but luckily we had no appointments for that day. When I tried to call Brian and Emily, my voice was low and muffled. I ended up sighing in frustration, snuggling back into my bed. A while later, my worried husband came to see me, approaching to see that I wasn't well.
"Chrissie, is everything all right?" Brian asked me "I thought you took too long to wake up ..."
"Well, I did woke up at the usual time" I said, showing that at that point he was right "I just couldn't get up."
"What's wrong with you?" He sat on the edge of the bed, touching my forehead. "Looks like a fever."
"Yeah, I think so" I agreed "I feel my head exploding and my throat hurting ..."
A sneeze interrupted me, which made Brian startle a little.
"Yeah, you really do seem to have a cold," my husband decided. "do you want me to get you to the hospital ?"
"Oh no, Bri, if it's just a cold I'll be fine" I soon dismissed the idea "you know I hate going to the doctor."
"I know, but if necessary we have to go," he insisted flatly.
"Let's do it, if I get worse, you take me and I promise not to disagree," I tried to get around the situation.
"Fine," Brian agreed, but a little reluctantly.
"Mom? Are you okay?" Emily had entered the room, also worried "you didn't come to have breakfast with us, are you sick?"
"I am, my dear," I replied to my daughter.
"Do you want me to stay to help take care of you?" Em offered and it was my turn to worry.
"No, no, Emily, I don't want you to miss class," I said, "it's just a cold, I'm sure I'll be fine by the end of the day."
"You can go to school, Emily, I'll take care of your mother, I promise," Brian assured her, and she was calmer.
"Okay then," Emily agreed, "I'm going, but get well, Mom."
She hugged me, saying goodbye and even feeling pain and discomfort my daughter's hug made me feel better.
"Have a nice day at school," I finally wished and she waved at me.
Brian turned to me, still worried, his eyebrows permanently furrowed, staring at me. I had to laugh because he was so serious, but doing so bothered my throat, turning the laugh into a cough.
"What happened to make you laugh suddenly?" Brian ended up smiling.
"You're looking at me too seriously," I explained and took one of his hands. "Trust me, my love, it's not the end of the world."
"Maybe not, but the love of my life is not well and I was wondering what to do to make her feel better." He touched my face affectionately.
"Brian ..." I sighed, feeling my cheeks flush, embarrassed at so many compliments.
"What?" It was his turn to laugh, kissing my forehead "um, you are still warm, and on top of that you didn't eat anything, do you think you can eat something?"
"I don't know, my throat hurts," I said, "but maybe tea helps."
"Tea then," he rose, "chamomile, right? Your favorite, don't worry, my love, I'll be right back."
"I know you're coming back," I nodded, smiling at him.
I waited patiently until my husband came back from the kitchen, Brian didn't take long, soon bringing my tea. I struggled to sit up, leaning slowly against the headboard. The movement made me a little dizzy and the grimace I made over it showed my discomfort.
"What is it?" Brian looked at me intrigued.
"I felt a little dizzy now," I told him, "but it's gone."
He handed me the cup of tea, and after blowing, I took a sip. After feeling my throat heat up, I took some more.
"Thank you" I thanked my husband "I'm a little better already."
"You think you can eat something now? It's not good to be on an empty stomach when your body is weak,” Brian advised me.
"I know, but I think it's best not to risk it," I analyzed my own state, "who knows at lunch, I eat something."
"Who knows, no," he corrected, "promise me you'll try to eat something, Mrs. May."
"I promise, Mr. May, I promise," I sighed, giving him reason.
"Great," he nodded contentedly, but soon afterward I felt a little uneasy about him.
"What was it with you now? Something's going on in your head,” I deduced and then I had some more tea.
"I had an idea to help you get through the day," he said shyly. "I hope you don't think it's bad."
"I'll just find out if it's good or bad after you come up with your idea," I made it clear. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I won't be mad."
"Ah really?" Brian smirked, putting a hand on his chin "remember when I wanted to learn to skate, or when I took you to that restaurant in Atlanta that was in your face that you found horrible?"
"Okay, these are exceptions." I rolled my eyes, "but now I'm curious about your idea."
"Well, Mrs. May, argue with the consequences of finding out what it is.” Brian ended up laughing at his own phrase, getting up to go to another room in the house, I just shook my head at all that.
This time it wasn't long, he had brought an acoustic guitar and sat on the edge of the bed.
"So I'm going to have a private concert because I'm sick?" I put a hand on my chin, turning my head.
"I hope you don't find that very self-centered of me," my husband shrugged, really embarrassed.
"Brian," I held out my hand to him and he held it. "You know how much I love to see you sing and play, thank you."
My husband smiled in response, understanding that he could start playing at any moment.
"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you, remember I'll always be true ..." he sang softly All My Loving, one of my favorite songs from the Beatles.
Little did he know that when I was younger, feeling lonely, I dreamed that my boyfriend would listen to the Beatles with me and like them as much as I did. It turned out that I married a songwriter, who not only delighted me in singing Beatles, but also enchanted me with his own creations.
At that moment I just closed my eyes, letting myself be carried by the delicate sound of the guitar and the soft voice of Brian. He continued with I Want to Hold Your Hand, Blackbird, I Feel Fine, I Saw Her Standing There, Hello Goodbye, Let it Be, Here Comes the Sun, Yesterday and Something.
Suddenly he paused for a moment before starting the next song. I opened my eyes out of curiosity and found Brian thoughtful, undecided.
"You can play the song you're thinking," I figured was what was bothering him.
"Okay" he sighed and played again, I recognized the introduction of Love of My Life.
I watched his gestures, his fingers strumming the strings, his head slightly bowed, but his eyes fixed on mine, loving and tender as ever. Everything he was singing was completely directed at me. I gave a grateful smile, starting to feel my eyes watering.
"Love of my life ... Love of my life ... ooh ooh yeah ..." I sang with him the last part, so Brian knew it was for him that I was singing it.
"Oh I think I better stop" he said, putting the guitar aside - I made you cry, my love, I think I tuned off..."
"Bri, you silly man!" I laughed "it's nothing like that, it's just ... I know and I felt why I sang this one. I love you too, love of my life."
"I love you," he answered simply, and I never tired of listening, even after 34 years. "Okay, I think it's time for lunch."
"Did you feel hungry, Mr. May?" I joked with him.
"To be honest, yes," he confirmed without shame, "do you mind if I leave you alone a little again?"
"No," I said sympathetically.
Brian left and left me for an hour, the silence helped my mind relax, I was calmer with the music and felt my fever subsiding and the headache passing.
Brian came back with a plate of soup. It looked delicious, but I couldn't smell it yet because of my stuffy nose. I fed slowly, since my throat still hurt. Brian put his hand on my forehead and then smiled, glad for something.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Your fever has passed," said my husband. "Yeah, my darling, I think you escaped from the doctor today."
"Because you took care of me," I said gratefully, "thank you for everything. Brian, you're the best husband in the world!"
"Oh thanks," he kissed my cheek in surprise, "but I think Dominique would say the same about Roger, and Veronica about John, or Rory about Jimmy."
"Um, I get it," I bent my head toward him, "but you know what, Brian? It is a privilege for a wife to be able to say that she has the best husband in the world, and I am privileged to be able to say that about you with all my heart."
"Oh my love ..." he exclaimed "how do I respond to this?"
Brian just wrapped me in a big hug in response and I returned the affection.
"Aren't you afraid of getting sick?" I laughed, playing with him.
"No, I'm sure you're not sick anymore." He looked at me and kissed me, lingering a little longer than a prevented person.
"Fine," I said later. "I'm really feeling better now."
"That's great." He smiled at me.
This time, I kissed him, loving him a little more, grateful for all the care and affection he had dedicated himself to offer me that day.