“You’re right,” I said, voice tight. “So where is he now?”
“He left early this morning. Urgent business, or so Krash said.”
I nodded, hiding the disappointment that crept in. He didn’t even cancel his meetings to wait for me to wake up. Just more proof all of this was out of obligation.
Drifting back into my thoughts, a familiar sensation clawed its way in. I felt like I’d been close to someone I knew, like I’d spent the night wrapped in arms that felt safe. Why did it feel like I’d been held against his body all night? Maybe because I dreamed about his tattoo, over and over. I could almost swear I touched it. The comfort of Knox’s arms, his warmth, his scent—I could have sworn I felt it all in my sleep. But that was impossible. Knox couldn’t have been here.
Unless…No, I had to be dreaming.
Just thinking about him must’ve tricked my senses into feeling that tattoo, that body, those lips against mine. I tried to convince myself, but some desperate part of me started building an impossible theory—the one where my husband held me all night, kissed me slow and deep, so real I couldn’t forget it even in this foggy, half-waking state. Shit, I knew it was impossible, but I had to ask.
“Did he come see me in this room? Did he sleep in this bed with me?” My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
“Uh… no. Not that I know of,” Valery said. “Krash told me the doctor checked you out and gave you something for the fever before letting you rest. But I don’t know much about last night. I got here this morning. Nobody mentioned anyone at yourbedside except the doctor.”
Valery barely finished before the door opened.
“Madame Korven. How are you feeling?”
Dr Kalvin’s voice rang out as he stepped into the room with Krash right behind him.
“Tired…” I rasped. “And my lungs feel like they’re burning.”
Dr Kalvin didn’t look surprised. He set his bag on the nightstand and came closer.
“That’s normal after everything you went through last night. Let’s check you over and make sure you’re alright.”
I felt his fingers close around my wrist as he checked my pulse. His eyes tracked the rise and fall of my chest, counting, while the whole room seemed to freeze around us.
“Breathe normally for me.”
I obeyed and he pulled a little penlight from his pocket.
“Look straight ahead, please.”
I blinked as the light hit my pupils. He studied the reaction, repeated the same with the other eye, then placed his palm on my forehead.
“Your temperature’s back to normal.”
He slipped a stethoscope into his ears, pushed the collar of my shirt aside, and pressed the cold disk against my chest.
“Deep breath in…”
My ribs tightened as I took a slow, deep breath in.
“Again.”
He shifted the stethoscope from one side of my chest to the other, then down my back.
“Any pain when you breathe?”
“It’s not really pain… more like a burn.”
He nodded, like he’d expected that.
“That’s normal after inhaling water. The airways stay irritated for hours after something like this. Do you remember anything? Before, during, or after you went under? Did you eat or drinkanything unusual?”
I shook my head. “Just a glass of wine, nothing else. All I remember is feeling dizzy, then suddenly everything spun and I fell in. After that, it’s a blank.”
