Chapter 71 She Has a Fever, and He Worries
A rapid knocking at the door interrupted Winona's doze. The knocking, coming and going, made it hard to tell which door it targeted on the six-unit floor.
She struggled to open her eyes, feeling like her body temperature had risen again. Even the breath that fell on her face felt hot and dry. Exhausted and lacking strength, Winona quickly fell back into a deep sleep.
Outside the door, Zachary knocked for a long time without anyone answering. He tried calling but got no response. Had it not been for a faint ringtone from inside, he would have assumed Winona wasn't home.
With furrowed brows, Zachary, exuding an even darker aura than usual, dialed Dylan's number. "Find someone to unlock Apartment 603 in Building 3 of the Seventh Complex."
Half an hour later, the door opened.
Zachary didn't turn on the lights but strode directly towards the bedroom. His hurried steps gave off a sense of panic.
As soon as he pushed the door open, he was hit by the intense heat in the room. Squinting his eyes, Zachary struggled to make out the figure on the bed in the dim light filtering through the window.
A small bundle, curled up and lying on its side inside the blanket.
Winona, with her back facing the door, was fast asleep.
Zachary's heart, initially tight with concern, soon gave way to a surge of anger. She had caused a fuss about moving out, but she lacked even the most basic sense of caution and vigilance. He knocked and unlocked the door, walked all the way into the bedroom, and yet she is lying motionless like a log.
The lock on the door was basic, and its quality was poor. It probably only served the purpose of locking, let alone preventing theft. A man with a bit of strength could easily break it with a couple of pulls.
The property management of the residential compound was virtually nonexistent. Zachary had entered twice without anyone asking him to register, and the neighbors were all elderly people and children.
For a single woman like Winona to live in a place like this, if someone with ill intentions came along, her body would probably rot before anyone noticed her absence.
The more he thought, the angrier he became. Zachary walked over in just a few steps, looking down at the oblivious woman, "Winona.."
No response.
However, Zachary noticed that she buried her face in the pillow, probably finding him annoying.
He let out a cold chuckle and leaned closer to her, "Get up when you hear me, don't pretend."
As he got closer, he noticed the abnormal flush on half of Winona's face. Her breathing was heavy, her lips dry and unnaturally red.
Zachary's Adam's apple moved, and he reached out to touch her forehead…
It burned to the touch. She had a fever.
Perhaps because he had just come in from outside, his hands were cold, and it felt soothing to press against her forehead. Winona unconsciously moved closer to him, pressing her face against his hand.
Zachary couldn't remember the last time they had this intimate reliance on each other.
He remembered when they had just gotten married; one night, she had menstrual cramps, and she had done the same thing, pressing against him and hinting for him to warm his hands on her stomach.
Mr. Bailey, who had always enjoyed being served by others, had never taken care of anyone before.
Zachary did not warm her belly, but instead called the doctor with a cold face.
After that, Winona never showed a moment of weakness in front of him.
As she approached, Zachary stiffened for a moment. Even though he knew she was unconscious, his heart couldn't help but beat faster.
His palm pressed against her burning and tender face, feeling like he was touching a ball of fire. The scorching heat rushed through his palm, quickly spreading to his arm and then throughout his body.
Winona licked her dry lips and whimpered, "Water..."
Zachary's face darkened. If it weren't for the unmistakable feeling, he would have thought she was pretending.
"Get up and get it yourself."
Even though he said that, he turned around and went to the living room to pour water and opened the drawer to find medicine.
If she continued to have such a high temperature, he would have to find a caregiver to take care of her 24 hours a day.
But after searching around, there was not even a box, let alone medicine. Did she think she could endure it by treating herself like a god?
Zachary's eyebrows started to twitch, and his anger rose in his heart.
In the room, Winona waited for water for a long time and began to get impatient, humming, "I'm thirsty, I want water... I'm not feeling good, my head hurts, it's painful..."
Her voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for Zachary to hear, repeating over and over again.
Zachary pressed his forehead and suppressed the impulse to pull her off the bed and throw her outside, which had been building up for a long time.
With a stern face, he entered the bedroom with a glass of water and placed it on the bedside table. "Drink."
Winona was wrapped in the blanket, twisting and turning, showing no intention of getting up. "Thirsty, I want water."
Impatiently, Zachary lifted her up and brought the water cup to her lips, the whole motion resembling a cow grazing.
Winona was already weak all over, and being carried by him like a chicken, how could she drink the water?
She raised her head, her pair of reddened eyes filled with a hazy mist... caused by the high fever.
Seeing her pitiful appearance, Zachary snorted. Although there was no visible change on his face, the anger in his heart visibly dissipated somewhat.
He sat by the bed, allowing her to lean against him. As he gave Winona water, he said coldly, "Now you see the consequences? If you continue to lash out like this, next time I might just let you fend for yourself."
Winona drank more than half of the cup of water, easing the dryness in her throat. Her consciousness was still not very clear, and the drowsiness caused by the fever made it difficult for her to even open her eyes.
She lay back on the bed, and the thought of Matthew asking for her address on the phone came to her mind. So, in a muddled voice, she said, "Matthew, thank you..."
Zachary's actions came to a halt!
He looked at Winona, who had fallen back to sleep, and remained silent for a long time. He didn't show excessive anger, but the low pressure emanating from him filled the entire room.
"Matthew? Matthew?"
Each word was spoken unusually slowly, and the voice was hoarse and barely audible.
In the next moment, he mercilessly grabbed Winona's chin and turned her face buried in the pillow toward him. "You can't recognize people when you're drunk, and now, you can't recognize people when you're sick? Or is it..." His fingertip rubbed against the skin on her neck, his deep eyes staring into hers, as if they could easily crush a person. "Do you really love him that much, even in your dreams?"
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