A Day of Deception

Prompt: Simon yates woke up sick on his day off but hides it from his work from home wife al day because he had promised to take care of the kids and the chores so that his wife emily could work in peace. Simon took care of his kids, ben and rozie all day. After diner the kid went to bed and simon and emily try to enjoy the evening. But simons body starts to protest. He throws up and the rest of the night is spelt with simon throwing up and emily nursing him back to health

Simon Yates woke up on a Saturday to the sound of distant rumbles—a combination of thunder and his grumbling stomach. He could feel the heaviness in his limbs, a fatigue clinging to him like a damp blanket. It was supposed to be his day off, a rare window where he could act as both devoted husband and doting father while Emily focused on her work. But as he shifted in bed, the nausea washed over him like an unwelcome tide. He glanced at the clock, realizing how late it was. Emily would likely be up soon, and the last thing he wanted was for her to worry about him. She had a critical project due next week, and he had promised to handle the kids and chores so she could work undisturbed. With that in mind, Simon took a deep breath and steeled himself. “I can do this,” he muttered to himself. As Emily stirred awake, Simon quickly threw on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that clung just a little too tightly to his queasy stomach. He made his way to the kitchen, where the first thing he tackled was a cup of coffee. Gritting his teeth against an impending wave of nausea, he brewed the strongest blend they had. The smell filled the air, and soon, Emily joined him, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Good morning!” she greeted him, her smile as bright as the sun streaming through the window. “Morning,” Simon replied, forcing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Ready for a productive day? I promised I’d take care of everything.” “Wow, aren’t you just the best husband?” she teased, nudging his shoulder with her own. Simon’s heart sank a little; he didn’t feel much like the best husband right now. He felt like a walking disaster. Emily settled in front of her laptop, and Simon shuffled toward the living room where Ben, their five-year-old, and three-year-old Rozie were still bundled cozily on the couch, their eyes barely open. “Rise and shine, team!” he announced with forced enthusiasm. “Daddy!” Ben shouted, stretching outwards and yawning loudly. “Can we build a fort today?” “Definitely! Fort-building is on the agenda!” The idea of spending vigorous time building something absurdly haphazard made him dizzy, but Simon gritted his teeth and nodded. “And after that, we can draw, maybe paint…” The morning slipped through his fingers like sand. Despite feeling feverish, Simon barely registered the children’s antics as they rummaged through cushions and blankets to create their fortress of creativity. Much to his relief, he managed to keep the nausea at bay, at least for a little while. He took frequent breaks, hiding in the kitchen under the guise of cleaning up. Between emptying the dishwasher and pretending to enjoy a snack, he let out a few quiet groans when he was sure no one could hear. But any slight sign of discomfort was buried under the sweetness of laughter echoing from the living room. After a chaotic lunch that involved spaghetti smeared across the kids’ faces and noodle strands strewn across the floor, Simon began to feel the weight of his lies. The room spun slightly, yet he couldn’t show weakness. “Time for a nap, kiddos!” he declared. As they marched off to their rooms, Simon cornered the wall and took a moment to breathe. His body protested more violently now—as if it were warning him that a storm was gathering in the pit of his stomach. The kids would only sleep for an hour, which was scant little time, but it was enough for Simon to clean up the dishes, wipe down the counters, and claim momentary peace. Come afternoon, the kids awoke, and Simon fought to sustain the cheery facade. They played games, colored pictures, and giggled through muck and mess. But somewhere deep inside, he could feel himself slipping. It felt like trying to hold back a tidal wave with just his hands. By the time dinner preparations were underway, Simon could hardly stand without bracing himself against the counter. Emily peeked in occasionally, blissfully unaware of the internal battle happening inside him. Her focused energy radiated warmth, and as she dove deeper into her work, he found himself both grateful and guilty. After a whirlwind of family dinner filled with laughter and mild chaos, it was time for bedtime stories. Simon read books to his children in an animated voice, but he felt each word battle against lethargy. Eventually, Ben and Rozie were tucked in, and Simon and Emily settled down for what was supposed to be an enjoyable evening together. “Thanks for taking care of everything today,” Emily said, finally looking worn. “I really appreciate your help.” “Of course! You work so hard,” he replied, thoughts of betrayal gnawing at him. Just as they were about to settle in to watch a show, Simon felt the familiar twisting in his stomach. The moment he stood, it hit him like a freight train. “I think I need to…” he said, his voice trailing off as he rushed to the bathroom. The first wave hit him hard, bringing with it reflexive heaves that betrayed every pretense he’d upheld during the day. Through the bathroom door, Emily’s voice filtered in, now laced with concern. “Simon? Are you okay?” “No, I’m fine! Just…a little tired!” he shouted back, but his body didn’t agree. Within moments, Emily was at the door, pushing it open despite his protests. When she saw him, pale and with streaks of perspiration glistening on his forehead, her expression changed from concern to panic. “I said I was fine!” he tried once more, but his tone cracked. Her hands reached out instinctively, placing a gentle touch on his back as he threw up again. “Oh, Simon…” The rest of the night followed in a blur of sickness and tender care. Emily filled a cold washcloth, drew him ginger tea, and wiped away his sweat, all while reassuring him that it was okay to need help. She did what any diligent, loving partner would do, nursing him back to health and alleviating the burden he had tried so hard to bear alone. In the end, what Simon thought was a simple day off filled with responsibilities became a reaffirmation of their love and partnership. Sometimes it wasn’t about taking care of everything alone, but about leaning on the one who understood him best—even on the days he felt least able to stand.