A Perfect Stitch

Chapter 23 | the workaholic's menaces

The past hour in Marie Le claire's Medical Center was tedious for him; my husband was a workaholic.

Dwain made himself comfortable at a small coffee table in my hospital room, caring less about his legs protruding in an unhealthy manner.

Large dark circles under his eyes, lips sipping a double shot espresso, and eyes focusing on a brand new MacBook Pro in front of him; Dwain would sleep working through life, and, no amount of fatigue could make him dose off completely.

He merited an award.

X-ray and other medical procedures carried out on my left leg didn't show any major damage, but for the deepness of the wound.

Glass didn't tamper with my bone.

"Ouch! It hurts."

A moan escaped my lips, straddling me out of my thoughts as a nurse did one last stitch on my wound.

"It's okay now." The nurse in her mid-forties smiled at me and wrapped my left foot with a band-aid. "Sorry, for the inconvenience. It's part of the struggle with local anesthesia."

Dwain shifted his gaze from his screen and peered at me, his lips twitching in a weird grin.

"Nurse, " he stole her attention and creased his brows. "Is my wife in good shape to go home now?"

"It's possible, but let her get some rest first and regain energy."

The lady organized her surgical blades, and other medical utensils into a medium-sized laboratory dish.

"Patience is key."

She excused herself and walked out.

Medical procedures were scary, but my husband was scarier.

I rolled my eyes from Dwain to the green curtains on the wall of my hospital room as the nurse stepped out of sight.

My mind couldn't snap out of the intimate discussion awaiting me.

Dwain's phone rang.

He heaved a sigh and strolled out of my room, his phone clutched to his ear, and a frown breaking his brows.

Out of sight, my breath synchronized, and my eyes fell on a fixed phone, resting on a brown cupboard next to my bed.

Ellis, hurry up and reach out to Elizabeth before he gets back.

The urge to call home hit me like a storm and with a cautious glance, I dialed Megan's number.

Pick, pick, please, I bit my finger and surveyed the door for a hint of Dwain's moves.

The fidgeting sound of the doorknob caught me off guard and I flung the phone seconds before Dwain's entry.

My heartbeat hastened as he strolled towards me, his eyes capturing my stare and guilt striking me at its peak.

"Lisa, our discussion is pushed to later this evening due to an impromptu board meeting." He moved to the coffee table and grabbed his MacBook Pro and files. "People of your caliber don't merit rest, but then, I don't want you spacing out during our discussion."

He made his way to the door and gripped the doorknob, but stopped in his tracks. "Before I forget, Jana will be here in the next two hours to pick you up, but for now, my bodyguard will remain at your door, in case you plan to elude. I might be late tonight."

He pushed past the door and rushed out.

My brain had long forgotten about the well-built-up guy outside who followed Dwain around like a second skin, playing his bodyguard.