Several professors emailed and asked about my health, along with some of my classmates. It takes a while, but I reply to everyone and explain I’m okay. Afterward, I go through my writing assignments and finish some homework that’s due at the end of the week.
I’m so distracted, and it’s hard to stay focused. Bruno jumps on the couch and rests his head on my thigh just as Chanel prances by and sits in front of the enormous window. The hours pass, and I try my best to make something for lunch but resort to microwave meals. I’m sure Eli will understand, considering my cooking experience. Dinner’s the same. He doesn’t complain, though I suspect he’s not too hungry anyway.
I text Kendall and update her on everything. The conversation isn’t a happy one, and she tries her best to comfort me as she listens to my fears. I’m so thankful to have her in my life through the good, bad, and ugly.
After I eat and get some reading done, I try to fall asleep but struggle with knowing he’s suffering. The virus attacked him quicker than it did for me, and I don’t know what to do. I text Ryan, hoping he replies and gives me a glimmer of hope, then I force myself to close my eyes.
The next two days are the same routine. I clean, cook, and worry. The worst is still to come, and I’m on high alert, constantly checking to make sure he’s still breathing.
On day four, I’m more concerned than I’ve ever been. The news only magnifies my anxiety.
Just as Ryan enters my mind, my phone rings. I hurry and answer.
“How are you?” he asks, sounding like he got run over by a Mack truck.
“I’m better. Not quite myself, but I’m getting there. I tire fairly quickly and still have somewhat of a cough, but mostly, I’m okay.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. How’s Eli?”
I pause and release a deep breath, trying to stay positive so my brother doesn’t notice how concerned I am.
“He’s struggling, and I’m worried he’s too stubborn to say he needs anything.”
“How do you know?”
“He’s gasping and coughing; the kind of deep cough that’s buried in your chest. He’s using his inhaler, but it’s not helping very much. I’m desperate.”
“If he’s rapidly declining, you should call the hotline and get him to the hospital. I’m not saying that to stress you out more, but to get him help before he progresses too far.”
“I will as soon as we hang up,” I say, knowing they won’t let just anyone walk in and get tested. If I would’ve called for myself, they would’ve told me to stay isolated. Will it be the same for Eli, too?
The line is silent for a few seconds. “When this is all over, if I ever complain about working seventy-hour weeks or bitch about being too tired, you have permission to kick my ass,” he orders. “Because I’d be happy to only be working that much right now.”
“Same, oh my God, same,” I agree, feeling bad that he’s probably working over a hundred hours right now. “And if I ever complain about not knowing what to order for takeout, kick mine. I didn’t realize how good I had it until delivery was no longer an option.”
Ryan chuckles and agrees with me. “Did you hear Dad and Mom donated a few million to a relief fund to help the hospitals in the city get more medical supplies and the proper masks?” Ryan asks. “It’s been reported on the news, and people are posting articles about it. I’ve had so many of my colleagues thank me with tears in their eyes. I’m kinda taken aback since I had nothing to do with it.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. You’re loved and appreciated either way.” I smile, hoping he understands how true that is.
“Or rather, our parents love a great PR stunt,” he mumbles. “Though I’m grateful and we desperately needed it, they could’ve made it anonymous and donated without the family name attached to it, you know? But they wanted the recognition, so I got dragged into it. They flashed my picture across the screen a dozen times. You know I don’t want that kind of attention,” he says. “I’m here doing my job because it’s what I’m passionate about.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t like that, though. They’re proud of you,” I say. “I am too, Ryan. Though I worry about you.”
“I’m more worried about you and Eli, and I’m pissed I can’t be there for you guys,” he says.
“Your patients need you, and I’m better now. I won’t let anything happen to your best friend. I care about him a lot.”
“I know you do. This weird love-hate thing you two have has been going on for years. I was wondering when you’d both get over it.”