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The first thing Carina noticed was the absence.
Their bed was empty, still warm on Maya’s side, but the familiar weight beside her was gone. Her eyes opened instinct, knowing she wouldn’t find Maya. She was used to this after months of sharing a bed with Maya.
Still, she murmured into the dark room, “Maya?”
There was movement by the door, careful, measured.
She expected this, Maya sneaking out in the early hours for her run. She turned on the light, and her stomach tightened at the sight.
Maya was standing there in leggings and a hoodie, one sock on, one still in her hand. But she was too flushed, too rigid. It appeared she was holding herself upright with determination only, which tracked, giving the 101 degree fahrenheit fever Maya had last night.
“What are you doing?” She asked as she sat up.
Maya froze, shoulders lifting in recognition that she’d been caught mid-crime. “Couldn’t sleep.”
Carina’s eyes immediately dropped to the shoes by the door.
Running shoes.
Oh.
No, absolutely not.
“Maya you had a fever before bed!” She was already swinging her legs out of bed, this wasn’t happening, not on her watch.
“I know,” Maya replied quickly. “But it’s fine! I feel fine! I will just go on a short run, ten minutes.”
Carina stood between her and the door without even thinking about it, the floor was cold under her feet but she could feel the heat radiating off of her girlfriend.
“Maya, you almost fainted last night.”
Blue eyes were firmly set on the floor. “That was different.”
“How?” She was too tired for this, while she understood Maya’s need to run, there was no way she could let her go out in this condition.
Maya hesitated, and that was all Carina needed to know.
“Running won’t fix this, bambina.” Her voice was quieter now, careful. “Your body won’t behave the way you want it to just because you push it. You need rest, Maya.”
She didn't answer, her jaw tightened, and her eyes kept flicking past Carina like if she got herself through the door, everything would be okay. Carina reached out, placing one hand on her jaw, the other on her chest.
Her heart was racing.
“No. Absolutely not. Maya, my love, you cannot go.”
The blonde bristled immediately. “You can’t just-”
“I can,” she interrupted gently, keeping her voice calm. She wasn’t bluffing, and the sooner Maya realized the better. “Because I am your girlfriend, and you are sick.”
Maya laughed, short and frustrated. “I feel worse when I stay still, you know that.”
Carina softened, fingers curling slightly in the fabric of Maya’s hoodie. “I know. But right now your body is not asking for discipline. It is asking for rest.”
Maya swayed.
Just barely. But Carina saw it.
She stepped closer and wrapped an arm around Maya’s waist before she could pretend it didn’t happen. The blonde sagged into her immediately, the fight draining out of her all at once.
“There,” Carina murmured, guiding her back toward the bed. “That is your answer.”
Maya exhaled defeatedly. “I hate this.”
“I know,” Carina replied, easing her down, pulling the blankets up without ceremony. She pressed her lips to Maya’s forehead and pulled back with a frown. “You are far too warm.”
She reached for the thermometer, the water, the pills. The routine steadied her. It gave her something to do with the fear.
“No running today,” she said, softer now. “Today you let me take care of you.”
Maya’s eyes fluttered closed. “You’re bossy.”
“Yes,” the Italian agreed, brushing sweaty hair back from her face. “And today, you need that.”
Maya’s fingers curled weakly around Carina’s wrist, grounding.
She stayed right there, hand warm against Maya’s skin, until her breathing evened out again.
Carina was just beginning to relax.
The tight frown on her girlfriend’s face had finally started to ease about ten minutes ago. Enough for Carina to convince herself that Maya was resting now. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand still on Maya’s forearm, thumb brushing gently over warm skin.
“Brava,” she murmured under her breath. “Finally listening.”
She reached for her phone, debating whether to text work that she would be late when Maya made a sound.
It was small at first. A soft, broken noise that didn’t quite register until Carina felt the arm under her hand tense, fingers curling hard into the sheets.
“Maya?” Carina leaned in instantly. “Amore?”
Maya’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused. “I-” She swallowed, sharp and audible. “Carina.”
That’s all it took.
The OB was already moving, already sliding an arm behind her girlfriend’s shoulders, hauling her upright just as her body lurched forward. Maya barely made it to the edge of the bed before she was gagging, dry at first, until it wasn’t, her stomach emptying onto the floor.
“Oh- okay, okay,” Carina murmured, one hand steady at her back, the other brushing hair out of her face. “I’ve got you. Breathe.”
Maya’s body was shaking with the force of the sickness. Carina kept her hand there, whispering reassuring words to her, trying not to think about how helpless Maya must be feeling. When it was over, she slumped against Carina’s chest, mortified and exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t-”
“Shh,” Carina’s reply was immediate, pressing a kiss into her hair. “No apologizing. This is not your fault.”
“I can-” Her voice was rough. “I can clean it up.”
She tried to sit up fully, to move and grab cleaning supplies, and make things right. To stop the feeling that the sickness had stripped her of every bit of control she prided herself on.
Carina’s hand tightened at her waist. Not rough, just firm enough to stop her. “No, you stay here, I’ll take care of it.”
Maya frowned, confusion lacing her features, then winced when the room tilted again. “Carina, it’s gross. I should-”
“Amore.” Carina waited until Maya looked at her. “Stay.”
The word landed heavier than it should and Maya immediately went still, shoulders curling inward, eyes dropping to the sheets. “I didn’t mean to,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I knew this would happen.”
Carina’s chest ached. She recognized this version of Maya, had come to know it more and more over the months. This version of Maya that would already be rehearsing punishment, already trying to fix things before anyone could be disappointed in her.
“I am not angry, Maya.” She needed Maya to understand this, needed her to sit back so she could clean up.
Maya shook her head. “You are. You’re just… being nice about it.”
That stopped Carina in her tracks.
She sank onto the bed next to Maya taking her hands. “Listen to me,” she said, voice steady and warm. “I am worried and I am tired, but Maya, I am absolutely not angry with you.”
Maya swallowed. “I made a mess, I failed.”
“You got sick,” Carina corrected. “That is not a failure.”
Maya’s eyes stung. She blinked hard, stubborn even now. “I don’t like when you have to take care of me because I messed up.”
Carina reached up, gently cupping her girlfriend’s jaw. “I am not taking care of you because you did something wrong. I am taking care of you because you are sick, and because I love you.”
For a long moment, Maya didn’t speak. Then, small and cracked: “You’re really not mad?”
Carina’s smile was soft, a little sad. “If I were angry, you would know. This,” she gestures vaguely, “this is love.”
Maya exhaled, tension visibly draining out of her as she leaned sideways, forehead pressing into Carina’s shoulder. “I hate needing help.”
“I know,” Carina murmured. “But you are allowed to need it.”
She eased Maya back against the pillows, tucking her in again, then finally stood to take care of the cleanup herself, quick, efficient, no drama.
When she came back from washing her hands, Maya’s eyes followed her, still uncertain.
Carina leaned down, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Rest. That is your job.”
By late morning, Carina was running on fumes.
Maya had been sick more times than Carina could count. Her feet running for the bathroom or hands reaching for the trashcan at least once every half an hour. Each time she would dismiss Carina’s help with a weak wave of her hand. Insisting on holding back her own hair, or fetching her own water with a fragile determination to keep in control.
“I’ve got it,” she kept saying. “I’m fine.”
Carina found herself biting her tongue, not wanting to trigger her girlfriend any more. There were only so many times she could insist on helping. Instead she just refilled the water when it got low, swapped out wash cloths and hoped this would end soon.
Her phone wouldn’t stop vibrating.
Can you come in for a few hours?
We’re short-staffed.
Even just in the afternoon?
Carina stared at the screen, jaw tight. She typed, deleted, and typed again.
I can’t. I’m home, my girlfriend is sick.
Another buzz. Immediately.
But this time, she turned the phone face down.
The soup was supposed to be simple. Something she made all the time without thinking. But her mind was focused on other things, on sick girlfriends and her job that wouldn’t stop bothering her. Suddenly she found herself standing in the kitchen staring at a pot that had boiled dry, pasta and vegetables sticking to the base.
“Merda,” she snapped, louder than she meant to.
She sagged against the counter, her head in her hands, breath coming too fast now. She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t slept since she woke up at that unholy hour. And more importantly, she hadn’t stopped being on alert for hours.
From the bedroom, she could hear it again. The retch, sharp and unmistakable. Instantly, she was moving, kneeling beside the bed as Maya leaned forward, shaking and miserable.
“Carina, I-” Maya choked out.
“No, Maya, let me help.”
“I’m fine,” She gasped between heaves.
“Let me help,” Carina said, holding the trashcan for her, taking the hair from her hand with maybe a little more force than was necessary.
Eventually Maya wiped her mouth, breathing hard. Her hands trembled worse than before.
“Carina,” she said quietly, the fight draining from her. “I-”
But Carina was already standing, already turning away to change the bag in the trashcan, to get water, to keep moving. “Maya, please,” she said, too sharp, too harsh, her back still to Maya. “I cannot do this again right now.”
Silence.
Maya froze, guilt flashing across her features. “I just… I think I need- can you-”
Carina snapped before she could stop herself. “I know you don’t like needing help,” her words came out fast, angry. “But you cannot keep pretending you’re fine and then throwing up so hard you nearly fall over every twenty minutes. I am trying to take care of you.”
The blonde’s face crumpled, stunned. “I wasn’t pretending.”
“I haven’t had a break all morning,” Carina continued, voice rising despite herself. “Work keeps calling, the food is ruined, and you keep saying you’ve got it when you very clearly don’t-”
She stopped.
Because Maya was crying.
Her girlfriend, the captain who seemed to think vulnerability was a liability, was crying.
Not quietly. Not the contained, embarrassed tears from earlier. These were silent, broken sobs, shoulders caving in, hands twisting uselessly in the sheets.
“Maya?”
“I know I need help. I know that. I was- I tried. But you-” Maya faltered, “I struggle to ask for help. And you were- angry-”
The words hit like a punch. Her anger drained out of her all at once. “Oh- Maya- I-”
But the blonde had already turned her face away, ashamed. “I knew you were mad- I’m sorry I thought if I tried to ask for help like you wanted- I’m sorry I didn’t see how overwhelmed you were.”
“No,” Carina said immediately, crossing the room, putting the trashcan on the ground before she knelt down again. “No, no, listen to me.”
She cupped Maya’s face, gently waiting until Maya looked at her.
“I am not angry at you,” she said, voice breaking, exhausted tears falling down her face. “I am overwhelmed. I am scared. And I snapped. That is on me. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Maya shook her head weakly. “I just didn’t want to be a problem, but no matter what I do-.”
Carina pressed her forehead to Maya’s, breathing her in, grounding herself. “You are not a problem. You are my girlfriend. And when you ask me for help,” she swallows hard, “I want to be able to hear it. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you Maya. I’m not mad, I promise.”
She looked over at the blonde, noting the still sick expression, and when Maya stayed silent, she picked up the trashcan and moved closer. “Can I help you? Can I take care of you?”
Maya hesitated, and Carina was certain she was about to hear no again. Instead Maya gave a small, almost imperceptible nod.
“Lie down, try to relax, I’m getting you some water.”
Yet when she came back with clean water and a fresh bag in the trashcan. She found Maya still upright, sitting rigidly on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around her middle like she was bracing for impact. Her eyes were red, lashes clumped, but her face had gone carefully blank.
Carina’s stomach droped.
“I told you to lie down,” she said, her voice gentle.
The blonde flinched anyway. “See?” She said quietly. “You are mad.”
Carina stopped short. “I am not.”
“Are you sure?”
Carina pulled her into her arms then, no hesitation, no carefulness left. She held Maya against her chest, rocking slightly, letting Maya cry as long as she needed.
Maya clutched at her shirt, desperate. “Please don’t be mad at me.”
“I am not,” Carina said fiercely. “I am on your side. Always.”
Maya cried harder at that, grief and relief tangled together. Carina didn’t shush her this time. She just stayed, whispering reassurances, grounding them both.
They didn’t move for a long time.
Maya’s crying had softened into those hitching, uneven breaths that felt worse somehow, her face pressed into Carina’s shoulder like she was afraid to look up again. Carina kept one arm locked around her back, the other brushed through her hair, slow and steady, anchoring them both.
Eventually, though, Maya whispered, barely audible, “I’m sorry.”
Carina stilled again, pulling back just enough to see Maya’s face. Red-eyed. Wrecked. Waiting.
“No,” Carina said, firm and gentle. “No, amore. We are not doing that.”
Maya blinked. “I yelled at you, accused you while-.”
“You were sick and scared,” Carina interrupted. “That is not something you apologize for.”
“I made everything harder,” Maya insisted.
Carina cupped her face, thumbs brushing under her eyes. “Listen to me. You did not make this harder.”
But her girlfriend looked unconvinced. She rarely did, when it came to herself. Carina exhaled slowly, choosing her words with care. “You think when someone sounds sharp, or tired, or frustrated, that it means you are the problem. Sì?”
Maya’s jaw tightened. A tiny nod.
“And when you get sick,” Carina continued, quieter now, “or need help, or cannot keep control the way you want to, you expect anger. You brace for it.”
Maya’s breath catched, her voice defensive. “Because that’s what comes next.”
Carina’s chest ached. “Maybe before, but not with me.”
“It feels the same.”
“I know.” Carina pressed their foreheads together. “But I need you to learn the difference. Because I will get it wrong again. Not because I want to, but sometimes, people snap before they think, I snap before I think.”
“I don’t know how to tell.” Maya’s voice cracked, her tone sounded embarrassed.
“You let me tell you,” Carina replied. “You ask. You don’t punish yourself in advance.”
Another apology was already forming on Maya’s lips. She could see it but cut it off with a kiss to her temple.
“No more,” she murmured. “Today, you rest. Today, we rest. I choose you. Even on the days it is hard. Especially on the days it is hard.”
Carina eased her back onto the bed, tucking the blankets around her with deliberate care, pressing a cool cloth to Maya’s forehead.
But, before she could pull away, Maya’s fingers caught her sleeve. “You’ll tell me,” she murmured, half-asleep. “If you’re mad.”
“Yes,” Carina promised instantly. “And you will believe me.”
Maya nodded, already slipping under. And Carina stayed right there, one hand resting over her girlfriend’s heart, until she was sure her breathing stayed steady this time.
Only then did she let herself sag forward, forehead against the mattress, holding both of them together.
Maya woke to nausea so sharp it stole her breath.
There was no warning this time. No slow build. Just a sudden, violent twist in her stomach that had her bolting upright with a broken sound in her throat.
“Carina-”
But she was already there. She must have only been half-asleep, because she was there in an instant, trashcan in hand, arm braced around Maya’s shoulders before Maya could even fully orient herself.
“I’ve got you. Lean forward.” Her girlfriend’s voice was low and steady.
Maya did, shaking, gripping the edge of the trashcan like it was the only solid thing in the room. Her body heaved, over and over, until tears were streaming down her face from the effort, until she was gasping for air like she forgot how to breathe.
She hated this part. The helplessness. The way her body refuses to cooperate. And when it, finally, eased, she slumped sideways, utterly spent. Carina helped her ease back against the pillows, keeping the trashcan close anyway, just in case.
She’d clean it soon enough, Maya came first.
She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Is this the part where I’m not supposed to apologize?"
Carina laughed softly. “Sì, good job.”
“I feel awful.”
“I know,” Carina murmured, smoothing damp hair back from her face. “You’re doing your best.”
“I just want it to stop.”
Carina carefully pulled her into her side, letting Maya’s head rest against her shoulder. “You let it pass. I’ll stay with you.”
Another wave rolled through her. Maya stiffened, breath hitching, and Carina’s hand was immediately firm at her back, grounding. “That’s it, breathe with me.”
Maya clung to her sleeve, small and wrecked in a way Carina wasn’t used to. When it was over, she didn’t pull away. She just sagged, exhausted beyond words.
“I hate being sick.” Her voice hoarse.
“I know.” Carina kissed the top of her head. “You are allowed to feel terrible.” She kept one arm around her while she reached for the water again, held the glass to her lips and waited patiently while Maya took a careful sip.
“There,” she whispered softly. “Slowly.”
Maya swallowed, then leaned back into Carina’s again, voice small and wrecked. “I think… I really am sick.”
“Yes,” Carina replied gently, stifling a laugh while she rubbed slow circles on Maya’s back. “And that is why you are not running anywhere today. And no sneaking out of bed either.”
Maya nodded, her eyelids already drooping again. “Don’t go.”
“I won’t.” Carina promised without hesitation.
Maya fell asleep like that, heavy, limp, trusting. And this time, Carina stayed awake, one hand warm and steady against her back, counting breaths, ready for whatever the rest of the day held.