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"Nothing, huh?" he echoed, not buying it entirely.
I chuckled nervously, "Yeah, you know, dealing with my uprooted life and all that entails. It can be a bit overwhelming."
But Andrea was now in full doctor mode. He pressed on, "You've been feeling this way for a couple of days?" His voice sounded all professional; gone was the friendly banter.
I hesitated. Andrea was a doctor, after all. Being honest with him was probably a good idea. I gave in to his questioning. "Yeah, it started a few days back."
His frown deepened, a clear indication that this was concerning him more than he was letting on.
"Griselda," he said gently, "I think you should see a doctor. It could be a big or something more serious."
My stomach rebelled violently, the queasiness escalating into a full-blown upheaval. Panic clawed its way up my throat as I dashed for the kitchen sink, not a second to spare. The world around me blurred momentarily as waves of nausea crashed over me.
I reached the sink just in time, the sound of retching filling the air. My entire body seemed to convulse, expelling whatever had caused this sudden discomfort. The taste was bitter and acrid.
Every heave is a stark reminder of my body's distress. My eyes watered, and I could feel my face flushing, a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.
Andrea, right beside me, must have felt the tension and worry in the air. He put a comforting hand on my back, patting it gently.
"Take it easy," he murmured, his voice laced with empathy.
After what felt like an eternity, the heaving subsided. I stayed bent over the sink, catching my breath, my forehead resting against the cool surface. The ordeal had left me weak and shaky, but there was a peculiar relief, too, as if something that had been bothering me had been expelled, if only temporarily.
I turned on the tap, rinsing my mouth to rid it of the lingering taste. My thoughts were a jumble of confusion and concern. What was happening to me? This was definitely more than just stress, and it didn’t present like any stomach bug I’ve had before.
Andrea offered me a glass of water, his face a mix of compassion and worry.
"You should get this checked out," he advised gently, concern etched in his eyes.
I took the water gratefully, nodding slightly. He was right, and I knew it. I took a few sips, still feeling weak and uneasy.
Andrea, with a determined look, said firmly, "We're going to the hospital."
I hesitated, I didn’t want to be more of a burden to Emilio than I already was.
"Okay, but promise me you won't tell Emilio yet," I requested, my concern for Emilio battling with my concern for my health.
He raised an eyebrow, skeptical, "Why keep it from him?"
I took a breath, attempting to explain, "I don't want him to worry unnecessarily. Let's first confirm if it's serious or not. If it is, I promise I'll tell him."
He scrutinized me for a moment, assessing my sincerity. I could sense his internal conflict about hiding something from Emilio. Finally, he relented, "Alright, but we're going."
With a sense of urgency, we made our way out of the apartment. As we rounded the corner, my heart raced, anticipating the encounter with the guards. I knew they would object; I expected it. I had seen firsthand how they operated and how dedicated they were to enforcing security.
And sure enough, as we approached the building's entrance, the guards stepped forward, firm and resolute. "I'm sorry, miss," one of them began, "but you can't leave for your safety."
Andrea, however, was prepared. He spoke up, maintaining an air of authority, "She's not feeling well, and I'm taking her to my private hospital. It's necessary."
I watched as a flicker of doubt crossed the guards' faces. It was a delicate gamble, but Andrea pressed on, taking a chance.
"I've already informed Emilio. Can't you see how pale she looks?" I hadn't realized how exhausted I was until he pointed it out.
Andrea's words seemed to sway them, hesitance still clouding their expressions.
"Are you willing to take responsibility if anything happens to her?" He added, his voice laced with urgency.
The two guards exchanged uncertain glances, clearly grappling with the situation's gravity. After a few more tense seconds, they reluctantly moved aside, allowing us to pass. Relief washed over me, mingled with surprise at the unexpected success of this ruse.
