Mia said, "I've filled up the thermos with hot water for our son, packed his diapers, his sippy cup, and the face wipes..."
She went on, listing everything they needed for their little one. Andre had already called the housekeeper, then he walked over and gently took their son from Mia's arms. "Let me hold him, you take a breather."
"I'm not tired," she replied.
Henry only found comfort in his mom's arms when he wasn't feeling well. Mia kept checking his temperature every few minutes, pressing her forehead against his to see if the fever had broken.
The housekeeper arrived in the middle of the night. "Sir, here are the things the lady requested. How's the young master doing?"
"The fever's still hanging on," Andre replied.
The housekeeper stayed around to lend a hand wherever needed. Andre prepared a cup of warm water for Henry, which Mia used to gently hydrate him.
They got a hospital room sorted out, and after sending the housekeeper home, the little family settled in. By three in the morning, after a long night, Henry finally sweated out his fever and drifted off to sleep.
Mia looked at his pale little face, her heart aching as she stroked his cheek. "Usually, our sweetie pie is all rosy and full of energy. Seeing him like this, looking so worn out, even his chubby cheeks seem frail."
His soft cries tugged at their hearts. Seeing his temperature finally drop, Andre suggested, "Mia, why don't you get some rest on the bed? We'll keep an eye on him for a few more hours, and if he's alright, we'll head home at dawn."
"The bed's too small, honey. Why don't you hold him and sleep there, and I'll take the couch? I'm short enough to fit," Mia insisted.
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