Hospital-8

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Alfonso lay peacefully on the hospital bed not moving a bit. Helena wanted to cry but remembered what the doctor had told her. She sat next to Alfonso looking at his body.

What was Clatercynclosis, really? She sighed and kept on sitting next to the man she had recently wedded. He was not a bad person really. At least he had not forced her to bed....yet. He was not too rude too. He was fine. Maybe she would forget about the misery of marrying a stranger, two months was not something she would fail to endure.

Maybe she would have been happier though if she had married Peter. He had once kissed her at the cabin near some cove he had taken her to once. Maybe if she had told her father about Peter maybe he would have allowed her to marry the young man.

She would interact with him better, they had gone to the same Literacy and etiquette school. They had been real good friends then. Camille had even married his best friend. She was sure a marriage with Peter would be far much better than the commitment she was stuck in with Sir Diego.

Now she missed him very much, maybe she did somehow love him....no. No, no no...she did not. This was just the stress of having Sir Diego under IV tubes. Peter was like a brother to her. He was even the one who advised her to be calm because Sir Diego might not be the selfish monster she expected him to be.

Peter was the one too who had calmed her and told her not to run away during the wedding when she had planned to. Peter was the one she had sneaked too, on the night she had been told that she would have to marry a man she did not know.

Peter was even the one who told her, well and Camille too, about the Indian tradition. Peter was the one who explained to her how business deals worked fast with the involvement of marriage ties. But Peter was also the one who had kissed her on that cabin near the secret cove.

She was angry at him then but now....now that she thought of it Peter was the person she and Camille leaned on most of the time. Maybe Peter was in love with her too.

No woman!

That was unchaste, she had no right at all to think such about another man when her husband was lying on the bed barely conscious. Peter was just thought and fantasy but Sir Diego... Sir Diego was the real picture here. He was the man she was committed to. The man she was supposed to think of, well at least for only two months. Two months later everything would be perfectly back to normal and maybe that is when she would go to-

No woman!

But really, what was Clatercynclosis? She had never heard of that name. Cancer, she had heard of but she had never heard of anyone she knows with it. Was the cancer even curable? The doctor though had told her that it could later be cured but what if the medicine failed him and he died? Then she would be widowed forever unless if he died after she was long gone. That thought was just too evil, she would wait on him.

She made her mind finally and decided to wait on him until he was well enough to leave on his own. She knew very well that chemotherapy was painful and very slow but she would wait on him all the same. She had vowed not to bend even when alterations presented themselves in front of her.

He would heal fast enough though if he took his treatment at home. At least there, she would make sure he would have good food, a good bath and good care. She would take care of him herself. And now, she was thinking like a real committed wife.

She tucked him in bed properly and lay his head on the pillow so that he did not strain his neck. He looked cold and just too sophisticated for her. She had never paid particular attention to his eyes but thinking about it now she realised they were a cold shade of blue only possessed by those rich and exotic men with many women swooning over them.

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