Chapter 189

Since my parents passed away, I hadn't complained about the bitterness of medicine. There was no one left to give me sugar-free candies, and I hadn't tasted one since.

"It's really sweet," Hayden coaxed, lifting a candy to my lips, almost teasingly.

I finally opened my mouth. The candy touched my tongue, and tears welled up, overflowing before I could stop them.

"Why are you crying?" His hand was on my face, gently wiping away the tears. But the more he asked, the tighter my chest felt, and the harder it became to control my emotions. My tears fell faster than Hayden could wipe them.

Finally, he took the cup from my hands, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "If you hate the medicine that much, we won't take it."

He stepped away, and I buried my face in my hands. After crying for a while, I felt lighter, as if some weight had lifted from my chest. The thermometer under my arm beeped, pulling me from my thoughts. 100.8°F. Definitely a fever.

Hayden returned with a towel wrapped around something. "We'll use some ice to bring your fever down. Drink more water, too. If it drops, you won't need the meds," he said, gently laying me on the couch. He placed the ice pack on my forehead. "Close your eyes and rest."

I did, but moments later, I smelled burning alcohol. Warmth spread across my palm as Hayden rubbed it. I flinched, but he said quietly, "It's an old trick to help with the fever."

I remembered my dad doing this when I was younger, though it always felt a little too hot. I stayed still, trusting him as he massaged my left hand, then my right. Just as I thought he was finished, his hand moved to my foot.

I jerked it back. "You don't need to do that."

"You were bold enough to say you want to undress me, but now you're scared of me touching your foot?" Hayden teased, catching me off guard.

I wanted to pretend I didn't remember anything. But Hayden knew, and he wouldn't let me forget it. I remained silent. Silence felt like my best defense. I shut my eyes and let him continue.

His hands worked over the soles of my feet, sending shivers through me. It tickled, yet it felt safe, as if the warmth I'd lost was slowly returning.

Something about his care today brought back memories of my parents. It was comforting, yet heartbreaking. Before I knew it, tears streamed down my cheeks again.

"Rest. I made some pumpkin soup. You can have it when you wake up," Hayden murmured softly as he stood to leave.

"Hayden," I called quietly, watching him go. "Did we know each other before?" Everything he did today reminded me of my childhood, as if he channeled the care my parents used to show me.

He paused, but whatever he said was too quiet to hear. Sleep pulled me under. In my dreams, I saw my parents, holding my hands, coaxing me to take medicine, giving me sugar-free candies. My dad was rubbing my hands and feet, just like Hayden had.

"Dad, Mom…" I whispered, reaching for them.

"Kiki, it's time to eat," Hayden's voice cut through my dream.

I didn't want to wake up. I gripped my parents' hands tighter, pleading, "Don't leave me. Please don't leave me…"

"I won't. I'll always be here for you," Hayden's voice echoed, pulling me back.

In that moment, I found him incredibly annoying. I wanted to stay with my parents, but he wouldn't stop interrupting.

"Hayden, go away!" I yelled, still half-asleep, not realizing I'd spoken aloud.

When I finally woke, I was clutching Hayden's hand. His eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw something unexpected—sadness.