Conrad was still asleep when she woke up. She decided to let him sleep, touched that he had risked getting sick just to lay in bed with her. She moved at a snails pace, but she made her way into the bathroom. Still weak, she had to sit on the shower floor as the water poured down on her, but she didn't want to wake Conrad just to have him hold her up. She was able to reach all the bottles needed to clean herself off. She smiled to herself, pleased with her independence. She didn't need her family to wait on her hand and foot, she was resourceful enough to get by on her own.
Afterwards, she put on a thin camisole and white linen pants. They were as close to sweat pants as she would go but they were also thin enough to keep her from sweating. At least she hoped so; she despised being sweaty almost as much as she despised Emily Thorne.
She held the railing tightly as she made her way down the stairs, silently willing herself not to collapse. Her body already felt like she'd taken a tumble down the stairs. She weakly called out for her children and Martha but the house was empty. She knew her husband well enough to know that he'd give the staff the week off, not wanting to risk infecting them or their children. Sometimes he was really thoughtful.
She knew she needed to drink those sports drinks that were filled with electrolytes but opted for water instead, still feeling nauseous. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She knew she was a terror when she was sick and she hadn't been this sick for a while. She also knew that Conrad had been running himself ragged trying to take care of her. He probably blamed himself, but even if it weren't because of the flu vaccine he would still treat her that way. She decided to do something to make it up for him.
She was practically crawling by the time she made it back up the stairs with the plate of fresh fruit. She had gotten him a cup of coffee but had left it on one of the steps after she kept spilling it. She was grateful that she grabbed two bottles of water instead of two glasses.
"My God, Victoria! I thought you were relaxing with the kids!" Conrad said as he rushed to get to her side. He grabbed the tray quickly, setting it down before focusing on getting her back into bed.
"The house is empty." She whispered as she reached for a tissue.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired. But the shower helped."
"You should have woken me up. I would have helped you."
"That's exactly why I let you sleep. You're running yourself into the ground trying to help me."
"It's the least I could do, my dear. Why don't you sit back, have some of your fruit?" He said, reaching for the platter.
"I brought it for you." She said.
He stared at her, dumbstruck. His wife wasn't nurturing or caring when it came to Conrad. He always liked that about her, he constantly had to chase her. But this sweet gesture made his heart swell. Maybe their marriage wasn't purely one of convenience as he once thought. Maybe Victoria loved him as much as he loved her. Maybe there was hope for them after all.
"Look at you, Vic. Being romantic..."
"I was merely being polite. You helped me out and I returned the favor before you could hold it over my head." She said, her voice sounding more congested than ever.
"Seems like a romantic gesture to me," he said, which resulted in an eye roll from Victoria.
"I still feel nauseous. If you don't stop with this romance crap, I swear I'll be sick." They both knew she was bluffing, but she was desperate to end any talk of their marriage or romance.
"One hug and one kiss and I'll never mention it again."
"Do you have a death wish? You'll get sick!" She shrieked.
"I'd rather risk getting sick than let this moment go without kissing you." He said. He thought he saw a blush spread across her face, but he knew it could have been her temperature spiking. Still, she didn't stop him when he grabbed her waist and pulled her into his kiss.