Too Late Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now novel Chapter 256

Aria's POV

I was awakened by a sharp pain twisting in my gut. Just as I tried to sit up, Aiden stirred beside me.

The dim night light cast soft shadows across the bedroom. Aiden immediately flicked on the main light, and I winced as brightness flooded the room. His eyes widened when he saw my face.

"What's wrong?" Concern etched his features as he scanned my appearance.

My stomach churned violently. "Bathroom. Now," I managed to gasp, clutching my abdomen as I hurried off the bed.

I barely made it to the toilet in time. My stomach had been slightly upset since the afternoon, but I hadn't thought much of it. Now I was paying the price with interest.

After the first wave passed, I staggered to the sink, only for another surge of nausea to hit me. I retched violently, my knuckles turning white as I gripped the counter.

Aiden pushed the bathroom door open and was instantly at my side, his warm hand steadying my back. "You're throwing up?"

I glanced up at him through watery eyes, too miserable to care how pathetic I looked. My body betrayed me from both ends, and dignity was the least of my concerns right now.

"My stomach hurts so bad," I whimpered, clutching his sleeve. "Aiden, I feel awful."

Something flashed in his eyes—worry, tenderness, determination. Without hesitation, he scooped me up into his arms. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

I pressed my clammy forehead against his neck as he carried me downstairs. My damp hair stuck to both our skin, but he didn't seem to mind. Halfway to the front door, another wave hit me.

"I need to throw up again," I choked out, pointing desperately toward the downstairs bathroom.

Aiden quickly redirected, carrying me to the toilet where I heaved painfully. Nothing but bile came up this time—my stomach had already emptied its contents upstairs.

"Food poisoning," he muttered, wiping my mouth with a damp towel. "Let's get you to a doctor."

The moment I seemed stable enough, he carried me to the garage and gently placed me in his black Bentley. The leather seat felt cool against my burning skin as Aiden started the engine.

The roads were mercifully empty at this hour. I closed my eyes as Aiden sped through the night, the car's powerful engine humming beneath us. My stomach cramped again, sending fresh waves of pain through my body.

Less than ten minutes later, we pulled up to the emergency entrance of the hospital two miles from our home. But before Aiden could even help me out, another urgent need gripped me.

"Bathroom," I gasped, clutching my stomach. "Right now."

He carried me inside, quickly asking directions from the night staff, and rushed me to the nearest restroom. The stall was a standard public toilet—nothing like our luxurious bathroom at home. Aiden hesitated at the stall door, clearly torn.

"I'll wait right here," he said firmly, positioning himself just outside. "Call if you need me."

I'd never experienced anything so humiliating in my life, but my body gave me no choice. After what felt like forever, I emerged, weak but slightly relieved.

The doctor confirmed food poisoning after examination. The nurse had just inserted an IV when another wave of nausea hit me. Aiden held my hair back as I vomited into a basin, his other hand rubbing circles on my back.

When it finally subsided, he helped me to a clean bed in the emergency ward. I watched through half-closed eyes as he approached a nurse, asked for a mop, and began cleaning up the mess I'd made on the floor.

Something about that sight—Aiden Carter, powerful business tycoon, meticulously cleaning my vomit—broke something inside me. Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them.

When he returned and saw me crying, alarm flashed across his face. He immediately took my hand. "Aria? Is the pain worse?"

I shook my head, then nodded, then shook it again. Finally, I pointed to my chest. "It hurts here."

"Your heart? I'll call the doctor—"

I caught his wrist before he could leave. "No," I whispered through tears. "It's just... you've never done things like this before."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. This man who valued cleanliness and order above all else had just cleaned up my bodily fluids without hesitation.

Relief softened his features as he sat back down and cupped my cheek. "There are lots of things I've never done before. I never had a wife before, but I do now."

Aiden must have waited for me to continue, but when I didn't, he realized I'd fallen asleep. Through my half-consciousness, I felt him carefully laying me back down on the bed and pulling the covers over me.

The hospital was eerily quiet at this late hour, with just Aiden and me in the IV room. As I drifted in and out of sleep, I was vaguely aware of him sitting beside me, his eyes never leaving my face, occasionally brushing stray hairs from my cheek where tears had dried.

After nearly two hours on the IV, a nurse came to remove the needle, waking me. For a moment, I stared blankly at my surroundings, disoriented. Only when the nurse left and Aiden pressed a cotton ball to the puncture site did I remember—my midnight trip to the hospital for severe gastroenteritis.

I opened my mouth to speak but yawned instead, embarrassed by my body's betrayal.

"Can we go home now?" I asked, my voice raspy from sleep.

"Yes, we can."

Aiden bent down to slip my right foot into my shoe. I instinctively pulled back.

"I can do it myself," I protested weakly.

He ignored me, his warm fingers wrapping around my ankle as he slid the shoe onto my foot, then repeated the process with my left. Something about this simple act of care made my chest tighten with emotion.

"All set," he said, standing up and collecting the medication the doctor had prescribed. "Can you walk?"

I nodded, feeling awkward under his concerned gaze. "Yes, I can walk."

The IV had worked its magic—my stomach and digestive pains had subsided considerably. Aiden supported me as we made our way out of the hospital.

It was already past three in the morning on the drive home. I fought to stay awake but lost the battle, drifting off once again. The night had been a painful blur, and I couldn't even remember if I'd walked to our bedroom or if Aiden had carried me.

My last memory was collapsing onto the bed, then Aiden bringing me water and medication, which I swallowed with my eyes still closed.

So exhausted. So sleepy.