Sophia Sullivan gave a slight nod.
She was utterly exhausted.
Her mind felt heavy as lead.
Pushing herself up by the armrest, she said, "Mr. Sullivan, I'm going to rest now."
Before the words fully left her lips, her legs gave way.
Ethan Sullivan reacted instantly, catching her.
His palm met burning skin.
Even Sophia seemed surprised.
She hadn’t noticed her own fever.
"You're running a fever," Ethan said, guiding her back onto the couch. "A high one."
Sophia forced a weak smile. "Just an old issue."
"I don’t like hearing that," Ethan replied, his brow furrowed. "You should speak up when you're unwell."
His thoughts drifted to her empty refrigerator.
And the instant meals stacked inside.
This woman didn’t know how to take care of herself.
But Sophia thought he was overreacting.
It was just a fever.
She had long grown accustomed to pushing through alone.
Back when she was on missions, she’d continue working even with a 104-degree fever.
And after marrying Liam Winston, no one had ever cared whether she lived or died.
This was the first time someone had demanded she voice her pain.
It felt unfamiliar.
Ethan was already on the phone. "Doctor, come over immediately."
His expression looked worse than the patient’s.
"Wait here. I’ll get a towel."
Sophia almost refused.
But seeing the tension in his jaw, she stayed silent.
When the doctor arrived, he found Ethan bending over Sophia, gently wiping her sweat.
Her usual wheelchair sat unused beside them.
The doctor blinked, then cautiously checked Sophia’s forehead.
Scorching.
His gaze dropped, and he inhaled sharply.
The wound on the back of her neck was inflamed and swollen.
"An infection from a venomous insect," the doctor said, rummaging through his medical kit. "She needs to return to A-City immediately."
Ethan took the pills. "I’ll handle this."
The doctor tactfully stepped away to retrieve antibiotics.
Sophia’s consciousness wavered.
Once her stubborn willpower faded, her body completely gave out.
She heard a low voice say, "Open your mouth."
But she lacked even the strength to lift her eyelids.
The next moment, her chin was tilted up gently.
Cool lips pressed against hers.
A tongue parted her teeth, delivering the pill with a sip of water.
Their heated breaths tangled.
Sophia instinctively licked her lips.
The bitterness carried a hint of crisp cedarwood.
It was comforting.
Ethan froze.
Setting the glass down, his knuckles whitened.
That fleeting touch.
It had thrown his heartbeat into chaos.
"Sophia?"
His voice came out rough.
But she was already deep in sleep.
Ethan turned and walked into the bathroom.
Cold water cascaded over him.
He shut his eyes, his throat working.
This was madness.