‘Let’s try these first.’
Duc wound the bed up and helped Viv adjust her position so she could take a tiny sip of water. She coughed and spluttered. She still hadn’t really opened her eyes.
He tried to move into doctor mode and ask a few standard questions, but her replies were distinctly groggy.
He knew her body was hydrated because of her IV, but she still hadn’t drunk any fluids in two days.
After a minute or so she held out her hand for the tablets and swallowed them awkwardly. Her eyes closed immediately.
Duc wanted to shake her, to make her try and talk again, to see what else he could do. But the nurse shot him a warning look. ‘Our patient needs rest. Take it from someone who’s had malaria.’
He pushed himself to give her a smile. She was right. He knew she was right. But so much was bubbling inside him right now.
She headed for the door. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in me trying to persuade you to spend the night in your own bed now that she’s woken up?’
He shook his head. ‘None at all.’
She shook her head too, giving him an amused smile. ‘Didn’t think so.’
* * *
Her head was fuzzy. And not a good kind of fuzzy. Somehow this felt like the worst hangover on the planet; in fact, she’d never actually had a hangover this bad.
And she was tired. Really, really tired. This didn’t feel normal.
She turned around in her bed, wondering why she couldn’t get comfortable. The sheets were stiff. So was the pillow. Had Duc changed her bedding?
Her eyelids flickered open. White. Everywhere. That wasn’t right. She’d grown used to the pleasant washed-out red of the walls in Duc’s house.
If she had the energy she’d sit up. But she didn’t.
Then she saw Duc in a chair next to her. Why would he be sitting by her bed? He looked terrible.
She didn’t even need to speak because his eyelids flickered open and he jerked then leaned forward, grabbing her hand. ‘Viv, you’re awake. How are you feeling?’
Now she really couldn’t make sense of things at all. ‘Wh-what?’ was all that came out.
Her joints ached. She looked down. These weren’t her PJs. She wrinkled her nose as she realised she was wearing a hospital gown. She pulled it away from her body. ‘What?’ she asked again.
‘You haven’t been well,’ Duc said quickly, his face grave. ‘You have malaria. We think you got bitten while helping at the accident—you had short sleeves that day.’
Malaria? ‘But I take the meds...’
His hand was still touching hers. It was almost like he didn’t want to let go.
‘I know,’ he said, then shook his head. ‘But for some reason they’ve not worked. They’re doing some special bloodwork to find out more.’
He looked at her seriously. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? The night sweats? The headaches? Was there anything else?’
She honestly couldn’t remember right now. Plus, right now this felt like a bit of a lecture.
‘I need to sleep,’ she said firmly, closing her eyes and curling on her side again. Next time she woke up she’d complain about these sheets and the hospital gown...
* * *
It was four days before Viv was anything like normal again. She was cranky, and constantly tired. It had to be expected. She still couldn’t seem to get her head around the fact she’d contracted malaria.
All the hospital staff kept popping in. Joe was a constant, as was Duc, with an occasional visit from Lien, who was still suffering from her hyperemesis gravidarum. Ron had even dropped in on a few occasions, bringing tea and sitting down to chat.
She still couldn’t believe this had happened to her. Now, in hindsight, she remembered having an itch on the back of her arm. But she’d never even thought to look at it in the mirror. She’d been too busy. There had been too much else going on.
Too much Duc...
Today she’d managed to persuade him to let her go back and sleep in her own bed. At least, that was how she still thought of it. But he’d insisted on carrying her the whole way.
She hadn’t been amused.
She’d also had to promise that people could come in and ‘check’ on her. It seemed no one was listening when she insisted she was a nurse and could look after herself.
The bungalow was a lot tidier since the last time she’d been here. ‘What happened to all the boxes?’ she asked as Duc carried her through the main room.
He had the good grace to look sheepish. ‘Mai Ahn. When you collapsed, I took you straight across to the hospital and stayed with you. I kind of forgot we’d been in the middle of things. But Mai Ahn came and asked if she could do anything to help and offered to take the boxes to goodwill for me.’
Of course. They’d been in the middle of emptying out his parents’ things. She remembered the emotions on his face. How final it all must have seemed to him.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered.
‘What?’ he looked surprised. ‘What have you got to be sorry for?’
She waved her hand. She couldn’t look at him right now. It seemed that now she’d woken up, all the emotions she’d kept locked away these past few months were fighting to get out now. It seemed that being sick had used up all the firm reserves she normally had.
If she looked at Duc, with his floppy hair and soft brown eyes, she would crumble.
‘I think I need to leave,’ were the words that came out.
‘As soon as I feel better. I think I need to leave.’
‘What?’ His voice was incredulous.
She concentrated on her hands. ‘This isn’t working out—not for me, Duc.’
‘But I thought you liked it here?’
‘I do. I mean I did.’
Her hands had never looked so interesting.
‘Viv, talk to me. Tell me what you mean?’
How could she do that? How could she tell her best friend that their relationship could never be the same again—at least, not for her?
From the instant she’d stepped off the plane and seen him again, things had changed between them.
It was nobody’s fault.
Neither of them understood the change, but they’d crossed a line for Viv. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the spark of attraction she felt for Duc now.
She’d never felt so connected to a person, or a place.
‘I can’t st-stay. Not here. Not now.’