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“How are you feeling?” he asks in a deep, raspy voice as he walks farther into the room. His movements are almost hesitant and it makes my brows pinch.
“W-what am I doing up here? I shouldn’t be in your bed,” I say confidently.
He smirks. “No, you really shouldn’t, but I guess it’s a bit late for that now, huh?”
“I-I don’t remember…”
“Seafood allergy?” he questions, his brow quirking up.
“Uh… yeah. Cooked seafood and me don’t mix.”
“There were prawns in the curry,” he says, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck as he looks away from me.
Is he… is that… guilt?
“Are you okay?” I ask, immediately regretting the question.
It’s just… he’s distant. Hesitant in a way I’ve never experienced before. And I’m not sure I like it.
More footsteps move this way before the door behind him opens wider and a man I vaguely recognize joins us.
“Nice to see you awake, Mrs. Murray. How are you feeling?”
“Uh…”
“Doc,” he says with a soft smile. “We’ve met before. Was a good few years ago now though.”
He holds my eyes and I gasp as I manage to dredge up a long-lost memory I’ve tried so hard to wipe from my mind.Pulling the sheets higher, I try to hide.
“H-hi,” I stutter, unable to keep eye contact with the man who knows intimate details about one of my deepest and darkest moments.
“Could you give us a minute,” he says, barely sparing our spectator a glance.
“Of course. Coffee? Would you like coffee?”
“Two sugars and a generous amount of cream,” Doc says.
“I meant Alana, but sure. Coming right up.”
The door clicks closed behind him, leaving me and the doctor alone.
“You sure gave them a fright tonight, ma’am.”
I stare at him in confusion as he grabs his stethoscope and blood pressure monitor.
“I’m sure it takes more than a mild allergic reaction to a cooked prawn to cause a reaction from the men of this house.” As I say the words, I know I’m underplaying what happened.
The exhaustion tugging at my muscles and the pounding of my head tell me it was anything but mild.
“Prior to tonight, I’d have said the same thing. But I’ve seen a different side to them.”
I stare at him blankly, unsure as to whether I should believe him or not.
I remain silent as he checks me over, nodding and murmuring that everything is as it should be.
“You’re anemic and your vitamin D levels are very low,” he informs me as if it’ll be a shock.
“I guess that’s what happens when you’re locked in a basement for days on end.”
