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I scanned the room. The walls were white, and everything smelled sterile. The stench of floor polish and antiseptic was distinct. It felt suffocating and unpleasant, and I felt dizzy and disoriented. In short, I felt like a fucking dead man walking.
“Why am I...” my tongue clung to the roof of my mouth, and I smacked my lips, collapsing lazily against the pillow. “I am fucking thirsty.”
Without saying a word, he turned aside and took a bottle from the table. He handed it to me, and I took it from him, acknowledging his strangely friendly gesture with a faint nod.
“Thanks.”
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone was low and soft.
“Why am I in a hospital?”
I licked my lips and felt better and no longer as if I'd had dust for breakfast. I glanced up at the ceiling and then looked at him in shock, wondering how I'd ended up in the hospital. He grunted and ran his hand over his face, not looking pleased at all.
“You really have to stop with the answering questions with a question thing.”
“It’s not a thing,” I defended.
“Grace,” he said, and I heard the sternness in his tone. I could also see the tiredness in his eyes. “You scared me. One minute, we’re talking, and the next, you’re speaking gibberish and turning paler by the second.”
His confession stunned me to the core. I had never seen or heard Igor so vulnerable. I didn’t even think he was capable of that level of transparency. I offered him a warm smile. “I’m fine, I think. Hey, was someone worried about me?”
“Worried?” He raised a brow, masking his expressions as quickly as they came.
“You sounded like you were worried,” I teased and took another sip from the bottle.
“There’s a difference between being worried and adequately concerned,” he defended.
“Adequately concerned?” I laughed and felt warmth course through me when I saw the ghost of a smile play on his lips. “That’s a new one. I’ve never heard that before.”
“Well, that’s because—”
“Mr. and Mrs. Varkov,” the young doctor bounced in with a wide smile on his face. He was tall, had caramel skin, and spotted a buzzcut. I liked his warm energy and welcoming aura.
It was a pity that my conversation with Igor was interrupted. On the one hand, I was glad to finally get a glimpse of his human side, and I didn’t want it to end. If I got to see more of him this way, maybe I could forget that he kidnapped me and accept a peaceful coexistence. On the other hand, I was grateful that the doctor had finally come to discharge me.
“I have great news for you both.”
Great news?
“Great news?” Igor's voice mirrored my thoughts. His cold steel armor was back on as he stared at the bubbly doctor. He glanced at me, and we exchanged a look.
“Yes,” the doctor nodded. In his hand, he held a sheet of paper, his eyes focused on me with an excitement that I couldn’t decipher. It was a moment of intense suspense as we waited for him to tell us what the great news was.
“Grace”, the doctor called, speaking to me with a chirpy tone, “I’ve received the results of your blood tests.”
“Blood tests?” I directed my question to Igor.
“Yes, he had to run one,” he answered without looking at me.
The doctor continued, his words were measured, and delivered with care, and I started to feel uneasy. “The results indicate that you’re pregnant.”
Pregnant?
His words would not come to pass. “I’m sorry, Doctor,” I said, frowning and squinting at his name tag. Dr. Angel. I laughed. I was definitely high, or I'd hit my head and ended up in an alternate universe where Igor was strangely human, and a doctor called Angel said I was pregnant.
“Doctor Angel, I’m sorry, but your test results aren’t correct,” I said firmly. “I am not pregnant. I can’t be.”
The doctor raised a brow and his forehead creased, a serious expression forming on his face. He flipped the papers and looked at me again. “But you are, Mrs. Varkov.”
