**A Promise in Sickness**

Prompt: Simon woke up sick with a high fever but he did not let that stop him because he promised his wife emily he would do the chores today so that she can work from home. Every movement made him dizzy. Halve way trough his chore list he needed a quick break on the couch as he tried not to fall asleep. It was then that he heard emily come in from her home office. He quickly tried to get back to the chores as to not dissapoint her but he failt. Emily got realy angry with him when she saw not everything was finished. She dis not notice that he was sick. Simon could not hold it back anymore. He cried as he tried to explain. Emily apollegised and took care of simon

Simon woke to the relentless pounding behind his eyes, the blanket feeling as if it had been draped over a smoldering furnace. He blinked several times, trying to shake off a sleep that clung to him like a heavy fog. The digital clock on the nightstand glared at him, and he winced at the sight—it was already past eight in the morning. “Just a day,” he muttered to himself. The fever burned through him, and he could sense that tackling the world this particular day would be akin to climbing Everest. But he couldn’t afford to let that stop him. Today was the day Emily had told him she would work from home, a rare luxury that came only once a month. He would keep his promise to her; he had to. Shuffling out of bed felt like trudging through molasses. Simon’s limbs were heavy, each movement eliciting a wave of dizziness that threatened to topple him over. A moment of introspection halted his progress as he stood at the threshold of their kitchen. How am I going to pull this off? Determined, he set a quick mental list of chores—dishes, laundry, vacuuming—and forced himself to sprint through the first task. The dishes were cold and stacked high, remnants of last night’s hastily prepared dinner still clinging to the plates. He felt the nausea bubble in the pit of his stomach as he scrubbed away, splashing water everywhere with fingers that felt more like lead. As he finally finished, it was time to tackle the laundry. Each move to lift the basket felt like raising weights, yet he dragged it to the washing machine, groaning inwardly. A quick glance at the clock reminded him of his dwindling time before Emily would break for lunch, and anxiety crept in alongside the fatigue. Once the washer began its rhythmic turns, he allowed himself a moment of respite. Perhaps just a few minutes on the couch might help. The soft cushions enveloped him, and the soothing rhythm of the machine lulled him closer to sleep. It was then that he heard the familiar sound of Emily’s footsteps coming from her home office down the hall. Panic surged through him. He jolted upright, swiping at the moisture forming on his brow. He couldn’t let her see him like this, not when he’d promised her he would take care of everything today. With effort, he pushed himself off the couch, fighting against the curl of exhaustion that begged him to stay where he was. Shuffling back into the kitchen, Simon forced himself to look busy, stacking the few stray dishes that had escaped the earlier wash. But he was unsteady, and his hands trembled slightly. “Simon?” Emily called, her voice echoing through the small apartment. “Hey! Just finishing up a few things!” He tried to sound cheerful, but the quiver in his voice gave him away as he fumbled to load more dishes into the cabinet. Emily appeared, hair pulled back and eyes sharp, scanning their surroundings. Her gaze caught the scattered laundry still waiting in the basket and the dust gathering in the corners of the room. He saw her expression change; disappointment etched deeper lines in her forehead. “Simon, I thought you were going to get everything done today. It’s already gotten out of hand in here,” she said, crossing her arms. “I-I’m working on it,” he stammered, a shaky breath escaping his lips, both from her stern look and the effort it took to keep standing. “I just… um… thought I could manage it all.” But the facade collapsed under the weight he had been carrying. Feeling the heat rise in his cheeks, the tears began to blur his vision. “I’m sorry,” he cried, his voice thickened as the dam broke. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I didn’t mean to let you down.” For a moment, Emily stood frozen, arms still crossed, mouth slightly agape. Then, realization washed over her features, a slow horror that clutched at her heart. “Wait—Simon, are you… sick?” He nodded, the motion heavy against the rising heat of fever. “I woke up— I didn’t want to disappoint you. I thought if I just pushed through…” His sentences faltered beneath the weight of his unravelling. The moment of confusion cleared, replaced with concern. Emily stepped closer, eyes softening as she took in the pale complexion of her husband, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. “Oh, Simon,” she whispered. “You should have told me.” Emily quickly moved to him, her hands on his shoulders. “You need to rest. Why would you push yourself? I can take care of it all. You should have just let me know how you felt.” “I didn’t want to disrupt your work,” he murmured, shame coating his words. “Simon, you come first. Work can wait.” She gathered him in her arms, holding him tightly, allowing him the comfort of her presence. As if on cue, the tears continued to flow, mixing with the sincerity of their moment. Emily led him back toward the couch, urging him to sit while she grabbed a cool cloth from the fridge. “Just rest. I’ll clean up the house, and I’ll make you some soup.” Her fingers grazed his forehead, checking for heat. “You need to get better.” Feeling her warmth envelop him, along with the sensation of being cared for, made Simon realize that some promises could be broken for the sake of health, for the sake of love. It was all right to lean on someone."You really didn’t need to do this," he murmured, gratitude sparkling in his eyes. Emily smiled softly, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. “And we can learn that together, Simon. You don’t have to do everything alone.” With the remnants of his fever slowly quieting behind the soothing comfort of his wife’s presence, he surrendered to the couch’s embrace, finally allowing himself the rest he desperately needed, grateful for the promise kept in a way he hadn’t anticipated.