Small Things You Promised Chapter 02
The next morning, my back injury from the car accident flared up again.
Worse, I was burning with fever.
Cayson was by the wardrobe, picking clothes.
My throat felt raw.
“Cayson, take me to the hospital.”
He glanced over. “What’s wrong?”
“Fever and back pain.”
He frowned and checked his phone. “I’ve got something later. Can you go yourself?”
I couldn’t.
Even turning over hurt, let alone dealing with the hospital trip.
Before I could answer, he tightened his tie.
“Sadie has an interview today. She’s always all over the place. If I don’t take her, she’ll get taken advantage of.”
He touched my forehead, quick and mechanical.
“It’s just a fever. You’ll sweat it out.”
Then he grabbed his keys and left.
I sat on the bed, stunned for a moment.
Then I forced myself up to get dressed.
Taxi, hospital, waiting, paperwork, bills.
Every step felt uphill. By noon, I was running on empty.
The doctor looked at my chart and frowned.
“Temp’s 39.8°C. White cell count is high. You need an IV.
“Why did you wait this long? This is risky. And you came alone? What if you’d passed out on the way here?”
I managed a smile. “I’m fine. I made it.”
He looked at me, then said nothing.
The IV didn’t finish until after seven.
That was when Cayson finally sent a message.
“You’ve got a fever. What do you want to eat? I’ll bring it back.”
I stared at the screen, dazed—maybe the first time he’d ever remembered I hadn’t eaten.
I wasn’t about to play coy.
I had to look after myself, so I texted back, “Soup.”
Cayson: “OK.”
Forty minutes passed, then another hour. It was past eleven when the door finally opened.
He came in with Sadie, both of them laughing, arms full of shopping bags.
I glanced at the bags and found no soup.
He saw me and paused. “Why are you sitting out here?”
I gave a small, bitter smile. Of course, he’d forgotten.
I pulled out my phone and ordered delivery.
Cayson glanced at the screen and remembered.
“Oh. I forgot the soup.
“Sadie’s favorite figurines were released today. We stood in line for two hours. I was rushing out and forgot it.”
Two hours for a blind box toy.
I thought back to when I’d lost weight after days of poor appetite, craving only dessert from a shop across town.
We’d queued for an hour.
He’d scowled the whole way, said waiting was a waste of life, and told me never to ask again.
After that, he stopped going with me.
None of it made sense.
“Cayson, how do you decide what’s important and what’s not?”
He frowned slightly.
“What kind of question is that? Did I upset you again?
“Those figurines sell out in minutes. You won’t get them for months. You can just order takeout. It’s no big deal.”
No big deal.
There it was again.
Sadie peeked out from behind him, her voice tinged with guilt. “Sorry, Raelynn. I dragged him into the line.”
“It’s fine,” I said.
My takeout arrived. I ate at the table slowly, finishing every bite.
When I was done, the agent called.
I picked up.
“Hi, Raelynn Kramer. A client wants to see your apartment.
“If you can lower the price, they’ll pay quickly.”
I set the spoon down and looked over at them, still bent over those figurines.
“Sure. The sooner it sells, the better,” I told the agent.