Chapter Seventeen

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Chapter Seventeen

"David?" Leila groaned, rolling over her stomach on the soft mattress. She felt her body crash into something and her eyes flew open.

She had dropped to the ground.

A few seconds later, a door was swung open and a freaked out David appeared behind it.

"Good God, what happened?" He asked as he ran over and gathered her in his arms.

"Where am I?" Leila asked, looking around her, trying to identify the unfamiliar room.

David picked her up and laid her back on the black leather chaise-longue. A few minutes later, she realized exactly where they were.

"I told you I'm fine," She complained, rubbing her face with her hand.

"Yes, and you blacked out the moment after," He teased, wiping away the sweat from her forehead. "Now just have some rest. The doctor said you're fine. It was only the flu. He'll just go through some tests and we are free to go."

"Why are those tests necessary?" Leila complained. "You already said I was fine. Let's just leave."

David laughed at her impatience. "It's okay. I'm sure they won't take so long."

Leila sighed. "Thank you," She spoke up.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me."

He smiled, then looked down. "I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you earlier. I was foolish. It's -,"

"You're forgiven," Leila interrupted.

His face fell. "What?" He wondered. "That quickly?"

Leila grinned. "Yep!" She replied, running a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back. "What you did for me was enough."

He smiled back, and traced her cheek with the bad of his thumb.

"Well, Mrs. Gareth, I'm honored to be blessed with your endlessly forgiving soul," He spoke in a mocking British tone, but his words sounded well-chosen, as if he was serious.

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

David immediately pulled back, and Leila looked down, clearing her throat to steady herself. The door slowly unlocked, revealing a round, skinny old face, framed with a thinning layer of silvery-white colored hair. The old man's face was dominated by wrinkles, especially above his crease. He sported a pair of round, frame-less glasses and had a stethoscope draping over his stiff shoulders.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Gareth," The doctor said in a rough, but high-pitched voice. He had a slight accent, but rather than that, he sounded like a fluent speaker. "How're you doing, now?"

Leila rubbed her forehead and dozed off for a second. "I feel good," She stated bluntly.

The doctor nodded. "I'm glad to hear that," He said. "However, I'm afraid I'm going to need to ask you some questions."

Leila looked up at David, as if asking for his permission. He nodded stiffly, without uttering a word. She wondered on about the strange change of his mood, but came to nothing. Sighing, she sat up straighter on the chaise and let the doctor proceed.

He asked her quite the ordinary questions; how often she eats, how long she sleeps, and so on, although a few or so of those questions seemed a little private. All along, David stood next to her, listening intently to her words without interrupting. He didn't hold her hand, nor did he send her a reassuring gesture that everything will be fine. He just stood there immobile, but his presence in itself was enough motivation for her. By the end of the session, she had almost zoned out again.

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