The stress, I assume, being my temporary death.
“I can help.” Caspian’s offer is soft but hopeful.
The doctor raises an eyebrow my way, and I nod slowly. “That’s fine,” I tell him.
With that settled, Caspian and I are left alone once more with the promise that a nurse will be in shortly to assist with my discharge. Caspian stands near the window, fidgeting with his wristband again.
“You have seizures?” I ask.
His head whips my way, hand dropping from the band, as if he hadn’t realized he’d been touching it. “Um. So they say.”
“So they say… Who?”
“My doctors. Do you live alone?”
“I have a cat,” I answer slowly.
He nods, giving me the ghost of a smile.
It isn’t long before my nurse returns, and Caspian and I are heading out of the hospital. When he opens the back door of an ordered ride, I raise an eyebrow.
He shrugs. “I can’t drive.”
Well, then. I ease inside without too much difficulty. My chest is still sore, but the pain isn’t terrible. Once I have a nice meal in me, I’m sure I’ll feel good as new.
Maybe I should put more consideration into allowing this stranger I barely know into my life and home. But… If Caspian was any danger to me, he wouldn’t be here, would he? He would have simply…let me die.
I brush the thought away, my mortality not something I want to examine too closely right now. Closing my eyes, I wait for the driver to bring us…mehome.
It’s a relief to step inside my house, as if I’ve been gone weeks and not a mere day. Shelly yowls from somewhere upstairs, her tiny paws padding heavily down the stairs before she’s streaking my way. Caspian makes a sound of surprise as my cat vaults herself up my chest and onto my shoulder. I cough a breath, wincing at the dig over my incision, but Shelly’s purr quickly drowns out everything else, my cat rubbing herself on my cheeks and head like a feline possessed.
Caspian watches us curiously. “Is that…normal?”
“Pretty normal,” I assure him, dropping the hospital bag with my possessions near the couch. Caspian sets his own backpack down before following me into the kitchen, standing just inside the doorway as I open the fridge. “Hungry?”
“You’re planning on feeding me?”
By Caspian’s amused tone, I’m fairly sure he recognizes the absolute ridiculousness of this situation. For whatever odd reason, it helps to settle me.
“I’m planning on feeding myself. And, since you’re here, it would be rude of me not to offer.”
His lips twist into a smile. “I can help.”
“Or you can sit,” I say, grabbing eggs and bacon before heading to the pantry for a loaf of bread. “And you can explain.”
“Thought I already did.”
Shelly hops down as I grab her food. She weaves through my legs several times, waiting for her half-full bowl to be full-full before digging in. I set the container back in the pantry and eye Caspian. “Explain more.”
He huffs a small laugh. “What’s her name?”
“Shelly,” I tell him, gingerly reaching for a pan from the rack before turning on the stovetop.
“Because she’s a tortoiseshell?”
“I never said I was inventive.”
“I never said you weren’t.”
