Daniel’s POV

Phoebe had gone to bring water but she seemed to be taking more time than usual. I looked at the ticking clock on the wall of my cabin. They had declared me out of risk and shifted me from the PACU. Mom had left for home to freshen up and Phoebe’s mom had gone to see her doctor. So I was practically alone.

Phoebe rushed in just then, her face flushed and I could tell at one glance that something was definitely wrong.
She came and sat on the chair beside me and lifted a hand to my cheeks and it was shaking.

I supported her hands with mine, “What’s the matter, Phoebe? Is everything all right?”

“Did anyone come with any medicine since I left?”

“No. I’ve been all alone with this stupid NS connected to my veins.”

She sighed in relief and hugged me, “It’s nothing. Just that I was afraid to leave you for even a minute. There was a huge rush of patients at the OPD and I was delayed. In this condition, we shouldn’t just leave you alone.”

“Are you sure that’s it? I’m perfectly fine,” I forced a smile in spite of the throbbing pain in my skull. It was expected after the major surgery, nothing that Phoebe should worry about.

“That’s it,” she defied all hospital rules and sat on the edge of the bed, our bodies touching.

“Sorry about luring you on,” she murmured, into my shoulders. “I should never have pushed you to the edge like that when you had been clearly struggling for control. It was me that had lost all control. I wanted to own you…in every way possible.”

“What are you talking about? Not the best night of life I guess.”

“Precisely about the worst of your nights.”

“Phoebe you don’t know how much I needed that, how much we needed that intimacy to further our relationship. Every bond, every love is unique Phoebe. You did nothing wrong. If I have chosen you, it’s because I’m ready to be in control. I’m ready to be tried and tested in all that life offers to me.”

She shrugged without answering and we stayed there for a moment, sitting with each other. Nothing had changed as far as we were concerned. And sometimes the silences spoke louder than any words we could say to each other. It was what it was. There was no escape from the situation we were in.

Our private moment was interrupted by a knock. Phoebe shot up from the bed as a nurse walked in. she smiled politely at Phoebe, who narrowed her eyes, studying her intently.

“Time for your medication,” she announced, placing the vial on the bedside table.

Phoebe snatched it up before the nurse could protest.

“Lovenox,” she murmured, turning it over in her palm. “It’s an Enoxaparin molecule, right?” The nurse simply nodded, equally baffled as me.

“What does it do?”

“It’s an anticoagulant like Heparin. He had a clot in the brain and so…”

“Show me the file and the doctor’s order sheet,” she demanded.

“Sorry we’re not supposed to do that,” the nurse replied.

“A patient has the right to information and the right to refuse any medication,” she looked her levelly in the eye.

“Phoebe, what do…?”

“It’s between me and her,” she interrupted my protests. “Trust me, please.”
I kept quiet as the nurse silently handed her the record. She deftly flipped through the pages. She may not have a medical degree, but knew enough to actually make out the individual documents.

Finally, she relaxed and handed over the vial to the nurse.

“I’m sorry for being so paranoid,” she apologized to the nurse, “It’s actually that once my mom had some problem with a wrong medication...”

I could feel that she was lying through her teeth. Why would she do that? I was equally flummoxed as the nurse.
Nevertheless, she aspirated the contents of the vial and deftly administered the medicine with Phoebe watching her like a hawk.

The nurse left in a hurry.

“Can I demand an explanation? You lied…”

“Not yet,” she mumbled, sounding thoughtful, “I’ll tell you when the time comes.”

I knew it was better not to argue with her.
We talked and talked till Phoebe’s mother peeped in.

“Mom,” she said, before Mrs Wellesley could open her mouth, “I will go home only before dinner.”

“I knew it,” she retorted. “When did you ever listen to your mom?”
She sighed and came into the room, touching my forehead with the back of her hand, “How’re you feeling dear?”

I gave the broadest smile possible in response. She left after a few minutes of dilly-dallying.

Just then another nurse walked in with the medication trolley. She picked up a loaded syringe from the tray and smiled at us both.