Love Rents A Room
Chapter 106: His Suffering

Chapter 106: His Suffering

Jeffrey’s mouth moved lower, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her sternum, tasting the warmth of her skin. His fingers played at the hem of her shirt before pulling it up, exposing the softness of her abdomen.

Her breath hitched as he kissed the delicate dip of her navel, his hands kneading the plushness of her curves.

He was losing himself.

She was intoxicating.

Joanne trembled beneath his touch, clutching at the sheets as his lips trailed south. The roughness of his hand gently kneading her erect buds sent bouts of warmth all over her. Heat coiled low in her belly as his lips trailed south, an ache she hadn’t realized had settled there until now.

And when his mouth brushed the sensitive skin between her thighs—

"Ahn..."

The sound slipped past her lips, unbidden.

Just then...

"Ah!" Jeffrey groaned, his moan a stark contrast to hers. His body jerked, but not in pleasure. A grimace twisted his face as he clutched his lower back, his entire frame going rigid before he collapsed onto the bed.

Joanne sat up immediately, alarm flashing through her. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern laced with the tiniest smirk. "Did you just pull your back or something?"

But the beads of sweat forming on his forehead wiped the teasing smile from her lips.

"Jeffrey," she urged, her hands gripping his shoulders as she tried to sit him upright. "Tell me where it hurts."

His only response was another groan, his brows furrowed, breath coming in shallow pants. Then, with sudden urgency, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered toward the bathroom.

Joanne watched in confusion as his towel fell away, discarded and forgotten, and the bathroom door remained ajar.

And then...

The sharp intake of breath. The way his entire body tensed.

She stepped inside, heart pounding, only to see his face drained of color, his eyes fixed on the toilet.

There was blood in his urine.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was Jeffrey’s shallow breathing, his horror evident in the way his fingers gripped the edge of the sink.

His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I’m bleeding."

His pee-pee was bleeding. Was he going to die? What if the only way for him to survive is by cutting off his pee-pee? What would he do?

Joanne exhaled slowly, keeping her own panic in check. "Tell me exactly where it hurts," she said, her tone firm, anchoring.

Jeffrey swallowed hard before pointing to his lower back, his hand pressing against the side of his abdomen. Right where the kidney was.

Understanding clicked into place instantly.

"I think you’re passing a kidney stone," she said. "We should check with a doctor~"

"No!" he blurted out, the sheer panic in his voice catching her off guard. "No doctors!"

Joanne crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Jeffrey, just in case~"

"No doctors," he muttered, already grabbing his clothes and dressing hurriedly—as if she hadn’t memorized every inch of him by now.

Joanne sighed, but instead of arguing, she turned on her heel. "Fine. But you need to drink water. I’ll bring you some lemon water."

She heard the soft click of the bathroom door locking behind her. Seriously?

With a shake of her head, she went to fetch the drinks. When she returned, the door was unlocked. Jeffrey lay sprawled on the bed, his body tense, his hands gripping the sheets as another wave of pain wracked through him.

And then, just as he was about to settle, he lurched up again and rushed back to the bathroom.

And again.

Joanne stayed with him, making sure he stayed hydrated, rubbing slow circles on his back as he braced himself against the counter, his jaw clenched.

Each time he saw blood, his fear flickered across his face, raw and unguarded. "I’m dying..."

Each time, she was there, squeezing his hand. "No, you’re not. You’re just passing a kidney stone."

"You should sleep," he murmured between pained breaths. "You have a cracked rib."

Joanne scoffed softly. "And you have a kidney stone. Guess we’re both not sleeping tonight."

Jeffrey’s lips parted, as if he wanted to argue, but then he just exhaled and let his forehead rest against her shoulder.

She stayed.

Because how could she leave him alone when he was suffering?

"I’msorry..." he whispered, often. His voice was hoarse, thick with exhaustion.

Joanne didn’t understand why he felt the need to apologize.

"You don’t have to do this for me," he murmured at times, his breaths uneven.

His eyes watered more than once when she helped him to the bathroom, his body trembling with pain. Each time, he muttered another apology.

She stopped correcting him.

Did he really think she wouldn’t be here for him? Even if he had been nothing more than a guest under her roof, she would have stayed. But he was so much more than that. How could she not be by his side?

The night stretched long and agonizing. She was grateful for the nap she had stolen in the hospital earlier—without it, she wasn’t sure she would have lasted.

When the first hints of dawn painted the sky, Jeffrey finally succumbed to sleep, the painkillers dulling the worst of his agony.

Joanne should have rested too. Her limbs ached, her ribs throbbed, but there was no time to think about it. She had a house full of people to feed.

As soon as she stepped into the kitchen, exhaustion gave way to routine. She moved through the motions effortlessly, pouring her care into every dish—Philip’s favorites, Charlotte’s comfort food, Jeffrey’s preferred meals, and something for everyone else.

When she went to check on Charlotte, the girl was still fast asleep, curled up peacefully. Not wanting to disturb her, Joanne made her way to Jeffrey’s room.

The moment she stepped inside, something felt off.

He was bundled under the covers, his breathing shallow, his body unnervingly still.

A low mumble slipped past his lips—words she couldn’t quite make out.

Her heart clenched.

She moved closer, reaching out instinctively. The moment her palm brushed his forehead, ice-cold fear shot through her.

He was burning.

This is not good. This is not good at all.

Panic tightened in her chest. His fever was dangerously high. He needed help—now.

She had no choice.

She had to get him to the hospital.