The Two of Us (Love in Isolation 1)
Chapter Twenty
ELIJAH
DAY 18
Three days have passed since Cameron started running a fever. I’ve wanted to do nothing but hold her in my arms and tell her everything will be fine, but I can’t. All I can do is make her food, leave it in the hallway, and write sweet notes on stationery I found in the kitchen. When I go to her door, I hear her dry cough and that she’s gasping for air. I want to burst inside her room and confirm she’s okay, but I also understand the severity of the situation. Cami’s already warned me, more concerned about my asthma than anything else, and I don’t want to upset her further.
Her cough sounded worse this morning, so I called Ryan again. He didn’t answer, but I know he will as soon as he can. I keep my phone on me and charged at all times, making sure the sound is up just in case Cami needs anything. She hasn’t asked for much help, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s too proud or if I’m doing such an outstanding job of keeping her stocked full of water and food that she doesn’t need anything.
Sometimes, I pace in front of her room. Other times, I sit with my back against the door and just talk to her. She responds, but I can tell she’s weak and tired. I’ve never felt so hopeless in my life.
Chanel has rubbed against my legs and jumped on my lap so many times she’s learned how to guilt me into giving her double treats and wet food. She sometimes meows outside of Cami’s door, which makes her laugh. Last night, she watched the news and learned some tigers in a zoo tested positive, and although there’s conflicting evidence confirming that, she won’t allow Chanel inside her room anymore to be on the safe side. The cat and I have bonded over being locked out, and I’ve tried to keep my mind busy by taking Bruno on extra walks as much as possible for fresh air. It’s still cool and crisp outside, and I can’t wait for spring.
When I’m sitting still is when the fear of what’s going on around me settles in. Cami could have the virus. I want to constantly ask how she is, but I also don’t want to be annoying.
My mind wanders further, and I can’t stop thinking about the night we spent together. I’ve never experienced chemistry like this with anyone, except her.
Something changed between us, and we haven’t been able to explore it further since she got sick. I haven’t mentioned us being together, and the silence has me doubting everything. In the back of my mind, I’ll never be good enough for her or her family’s standards. I don’t have the social status her parents require, and Cami’s always been out of my league. I’m still scraping by financially and hope that eventually changes, but the future is unknown at this point. Even if I got promoted, I don’t think her father would approve because I don’t have a trust fund to pay for everything.
Just as I’m walking into the kitchen, my phone vibrates in my pocket. Thinking it’s Cami, I hurry and answer, but it’s Ryan.
“How is she?” he asks. His tone is rushed, and in the background, different medical codes are blared over a loud intercom.
I exhale slowly. “She’s coughing nonstop, and I know she’s having trouble breathing by the sounds of her wheezing. I check on her every few hours, but I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” I tell him. “We FaceTimed a couple times and she looked absolutely miserable.”
“All you can do is help her from a distance. Stay away from her, Eli. If Cameron has the virus, she’s highly contagious, and I’m worried about what would happen if you got it. Unless her coughing gets worse or she struggles to breathe, they won’t admit her with how limited they are on space and equipment. She texts me each time she takes her temp, and her fever seems to be holding steady for now,” Ryan explains.
“But it’s still high,” I say with defeat in my voice.
“It is, but she still won’t be admitted unless she’s worse than—”
“Worse than what she is now?” My agitation takes over. I’m so frustrated. Not with him, but over the testing situation and how our healthcare system is overwhelmed to the point of nearly collapsing. This situation of uncertainty weighs me down, and I’ve never been so stressed before.
“I know you’re upset. I am too. I’m also concerned about my sister, but the hospitals are complete madhouses. We can’t get the supplies we need, and the staff are growing exhausted. Honestly, she’s better off staying at the cabin unless her symptoms and condition worsen. She’s healthy, young, and is still breathing on her own. Cameron is doing better than a lot of people right now, and she’s a fighter.”