+25 <b>ut </b>
By the time Zac’s driver dropped him off at the vi, it was already past 3 am,
He stumbled <b>into </b>his bedroom, copsed onto the bed<b>, </b>and passed out Immediately.
The next time he opened his eyes, it wasn’t because he woke up naturally. It was because of the pain.
“Charlotte, my stomach hurts.” His voice was groggy. “Grab my meds.”
<b>Silence </b>
He called out again. “Charlotte? Charlotte-”
Nothing.
His eyes snapped open, and reality hit him
She wasn’t here anymore.
like a brick.
Zac sat up, pressing a hand to his stomach. It felt strangely empty–not just physically, but something deeper than that. Frustration flickered Jacross his face as he got up, searching through drawers and cabs.
Nothing.
The pain sharpened. With no other choice, he grabbed his phone and called the housekeeper,
Mrs. Zimmer picked up, groggy and clearly half–asleep. “Mr. Gibson?”
“Where’s the stomach medicine?” Zac’s voice was low and strained.
Mrs. Zimmer clenched her fists, inhaled deeply, and reminded herself why she tolerated this job.
“Good pay. Good pay. It’s just sleep deprivation. I can deal with this,” she muttered to herself.
Then, she nced at the clock–?am.
<b>“</b>This man is insane,” she silently remarked.
Suppressing the <b>urge </b>to quit on the spot, she took another deep breath and answered as patiently as she could. “The medicine cab is in Miss Riley’s room. First drawer.”
Zachung up without another word.
He made his way to Charlotte’s room, gripping the wall for support. Once he reached the cab, he pulled open the drawer.
Cure enough, there was a small medical dit inside, packed neatly with different battles and packets of pills.
His stomach twisted with <b>pain </b>again, but as he stared at the variousbels, another problem arose.
Which
hone was the right
hit one?
For years, Charlotte had always been <b>the </b>one to give him his meds. <b>She </b>knew exactly what to <b>do</b>, how many pills he needed, even whether he should take them before or after eating.
Now, without her, he had no idea.
Cursing under his breath, Zac slimmed thebels as quickly as his aching head allowed, grabbed the one that looked closest, and downed <b>two </b>pills.
“It won’t kill me,” he thought.
That was hisst thought before exhaustion pulled him under <b>again</b>.
When he woke up, it was already noon
Still groggy, he called for the housekeeper. “Make me some oatmeal.”
Mrs, Zimmer <b>poked </b>her <b>head </b>in. “Do you mean the special one Miss Riley used to make?”
Zac rubbed his temples. “Yeah.”
<b>She </b>hesitated. “Mr. Gibson… Tcan’t make that.”
His brown furrowed. “Why not?”
“It takes time. The as need to be soaked overight, and we’d need fresh sweet potatoes. If we start now, it won’t be ready for hours.”
She
e added, “Furthermore, I only know the Ingredients, but I don’t know the exact recipe or how to season it, so I wouldn’t be able to make it properly”
Zac exhaled Impatiently. “Fine. Just make in oatmeal”
Mrs. Zimuser grinned. “That, I can do.”
His head was pounding. After giving the order, he leaned back against the bed, rubbing his temples.
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
Knock, knock, knock
Zac’s eyes snapped open, his heart stirring with anticipation.
Was it Charlotte?
Had shee back after all?
He knew it. She wouldn’t just leave him like that.
“Come in,”
But as soon as he spoke, the door opened, and Wendy walked <b>in </b>instead.
The faint smile on his lips froze instantly. His tone <b>was </bced with disappointinent. “Why is it you?”
Wendy caught the fleeting look of dismay in his eyes and clenched her fists slightly.
She didn’t ask who he had been expecting. She already knew.
Putting on a gentle smile, she <b>said</b>, “Mrs. Zimmer told me you weren’t feeling well<b>, </b>so I came to check on you. Are you okay?”
Zac shook his <b>head</b>. “I’m fine.!