The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 275

Clara fell ill.

Perhaps it was the rush of the journey, or maybe the sea breeze had chilled her head. Either way, the next morning, Clara couldn't get out of bed.

She was burning up, confused and dazed, her whole body aching as if she'd been run over.

Her dreams were a chaotic mess.

One moment it was that wedding with only one person, confetti mocking her loneliness. The next, it was a rainy cemetery, Rhys holding an umbrella, standing beside Margot.

"Mom... Mom!"

Felix's voice came from beside her ear.

Clara opened her eyes, feeling as though her eyelids weighed a thousand pounds.

Through her blurred vision, she saw Felix leaning over the bedside, holding an electronic thermometer in one small hand while pressing the other against her forehead.

"One-oh-two point four."

Felix read the number and held the thermometer up to Clara's eyes for her to see, his little eyebrows furrowing. "Mom, you have a fever."

Clara tried to sit up, but the fever made it incredibly difficult.

"What time is it?"

"Eight-thirty," Felix said. "Grandpa and Grandma went grocery shopping and aren't back yet. Eloise is in the kitchen. Uncle Simon and Mr. Thorne have already gone to work. Mom, we need to go to the hospital."

Listening to the string of reports and looking at her son's face, trying so hard to be grown-up, Clara's heart melted.

Most children his age would be scared to tears if their mother got sick. She didn't know if it was because he didn't have a biological father around, but he always habitually tried to fill the role of protector.

"Mom's okay, just a little tired. I'll be fine after a nap."

"Liar," Felix said sternly. "Daddy Noah said if it goes over one-oh-one, you take fever medicine. If it hits one-oh-two, we go to the hospital, no arguing. Mom, your math is already bad. What if you burn up and get even dumber?"

Rendered speechless by her son, she could only sigh helplessly.

Seeing she wasn't moving, Felix turned and ran toward the closet. "We're going to the hospital anyway. If you can't get up, Mom, I'll call Uncle Simon to come back and carry you."

This kid was getting better and better at handling people.

The doctor looked in surprise at the child who was barely taller than the desk. "You remember all that so clearly? How old are you?"

"I'm almost four. Sir, is it the flu, or is it bacteria?"

The doctor laughed, writing the prescription as he chuckled. "You know a lot of professional terms. Is someone in the family studying medicine?"

"Yes," Clara answered. "His... father is a pediatrician. He picks it up from him."

"No wonder," the doctor exclaimed. "Kids these days are usually spoiled. To know how to take care of his mom at this age... he's thoughtful."

Clara lowered her eyes, her heart feeling a slight pang.

Since he was old enough to understand, Felix had lived with his mother and grandparents. He was sensitive enough to realize his family structure was different, so he tried desperately to grow up and fill that void.

"Let’s start with a blood draw. We’ll run a CBC and test for flu." The doctor handed over the slip.

There was a long line at the phlebotomy window.

In front of them was a chubby four- or five-year-old boy. He started wailing before the needle even touched him, crying loud enough to shake the ceiling. It took three adults holding him down to get the needle in.