The big bump

Chapter 6

The world suddenly turned dark for Emily. She felt pure pain. She gasped, but the sound got lost in the big "bump" as she fell down on the cold floor. Everything looked funny, the room felt like it was filled with rainbows.

Then, nothing. No more seeing, no more feeling.

When Emily woke up, her head felt heavy and her ankle felt tight. She tried to sit up, but her body felt so dizzy making her fall back down.

White walls and beeping machines sounds filled the room. Where was she? What happened? She felt scared.

A soft voice cut through the noise and her thoughts. "Mrs. Steele? You're awake!" A lady with blue clothes smiled at her. Her voice was nice. "You fell down bad, but you're in the hospital now. Don't worry, you'll be okay."

Emily felt much better now. Safe. But the fall and the mean words from Isabella were still fresh in her mind. What happened next? Where was Alexander? So many questions filled her head, but she was too tired.

The lady covered her with a blanket. It felt good, a little bit of comfort in this scary place.

The kind nurse, whose name was Sarah, explained that Emily had a broken ankle. The doctor, a tall man with kind eyes,would come to see her soon and explain how they would fix it. Emily felt so sad, because she realized that a broken ankle meant no walking, no working also at her beloved cafe for a long time. She got worried about Maria, the kind housekeeper, and how she would handle everything alone in that big house.

Days turned into weeks, each one a painstakingly slow walk towards recovery. The doctor put a cast on Emily's ankle, a big white boot that felt very heavy and somehow awkward. Walking was out of the question.

A friendly physical therapist named John visited her daily.

John was patient and encouraging, slowly teaching Emily how to use crutches – two long sticks that helped her balance without putting weight on her injured ankle.

At first, walking with crutches felt like a very hard task. Emily tried walking but her legs felt wobbly and her arms shaking with effort. John told her it would get easier with practice. True to his word, slowly, day by day, Emily gained confidence. Her movements became better, her steps more certain.

One sunny afternoon, as Emily practiced walking down the hospital hallway, a voice stopped her in her tracks. "Emily?"

She turned around, her heart skipping a beat. There he was, Alexander. He looked different, his face drawn and tired, a huge contrast to the composed, confident man she knew.

"Alexander!" she shouted, a mix of relief and confusion washing over her. Where had he been? Why hadn't he visited her sooner?

Before she could voice her questions, a woman with sharp blue eyes and a tightly controlled smile stood beside him. "Mrs. Steele," she said, her voice dripping with bitter sweetness. "So nice to see you finally awake."

Emily recognized her instantly – Isabella. Her presence gave Emily the shivers.

Emily looked at Alexander, her mind a funny twist of emotions. Relief at seeing him after what felt like forever, mixed with a growing sense of resentment. Where had he been during the most difficult days of her recovery?

"It's good to see you awake, Emily," Alexander finally spoke, his voice hoarse. "I apologize for the delay. There were… business matters that required my immediate attention."

His explanation felt off. John, the therapist, who had just left the room, had mentioned a big conference Alexander was supposed to attend in another country. Was that the "business matter" he was referring to?

"How long have you been back?" Emily asked, her voice small.

"I just arrived this morning," Alexander replied, avoiding to meet her eyes.

The arrival of Isabella, all forced smiles and bitter sweetness, further strained the atmosphere in the room. Emily felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat. "Would you like some water, Mrs. Steele?" Isabella offered, her voice filled with fake concern.

Emily shook her head, unable to trust herself to speak around Isabella. The woman's presence gave out a suffocating sense of power, a funny contrast to the kind, gentle nature of Sarah, the nurse, who had been Emily's constant companion.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension between Emily and Alexander only grew. His visits were not frequent, his explanations brief. He spoke of demanding board meetings and late-night negotiations, but Emily couldn't shake the feeling that something else was going on.

Meanwhile, Emily's recovery was slow but steady. With John's constant encouragement and her own determination, she learned to move the world on crutches. The frustration of being stuck to a bed gradually gave way to a newfound sense of accomplishment with each step she took.

One afternoon, John brought in a walker, a metal frame with wheels that offered more support than the crutches. He guided Emily, her steps slow and shaky at first, then growing more confident with each rounds around the room.

"You're doing great, Emily," John said with a warm smile. "It won't be long before you're walking unaided again."

Emily felt a spark of hope fill her mind. The thought of returning to her normal daily life and routines, of maybe even visiting the cafe again, filled her with a sense of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, life could get back to normal, even if the circumstances of her arrival in this grand house were anything but normal.

The days that followed were a slow start between Emily and Alexander. John's visits brought a welcome break, his cheerful encouragement a bright spot in the annoying hospital room. But it was Alexander's presence that truly brought something within her.

He started staying back longer after John left, his visits no longer a rushed formality. He would pull up a chair beside her bed, his hand finding hers in a gesture that sends a warm feeling through her. He spoke of simple things – the weather outside, a funny story he heard at work. His voice, usually sharp and commanding, softened around her, a cool voice that soothed the restlessness in her soul.

One afternoon, while Emily got angry with the frustration of getting dressed with only one good leg, Alexander surprised her. He knelt down on the floor before her, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the window.

"Here, let me help," he said, his voice a low murmur.

Emily felt a blush come up on her cheeks, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tiredness and frustration of getting dressed. He began unbuttoning her blouse with a slowness that sent shivers down her spine. His touch, gentle yet firm, stayed on her skin, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

For a moment, their eyes met, a silent conversation passing between them. Emily saw a quick glimpse of desire in his eyes,a reflection of the yearning that she felt within her. His breath shaked slightly, and his hand brushed against the bare skin of her shoulder, sending a delicious shiver down her body.

Suddenly, a loud knock on the door put a stop to the intimate moment. Isabella's voice, sharp and cold, pierced the intimate atmosphere. "Alexander, are you in there?"

Alexander cursed under his breath, pulling back abruptly. The disappointment that clouded his eyes mirrored the one that settled in Emily's chest. "Coming," he called out, his voice escaping any sort of warmth.

He stood up, his tall frame standing over her. For a brief moment, his hand hovered over hers, a silent apology before he turned and walked to the door.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with a strained tension. Emily felt robbed of the spark that had happened moments before. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the room, Alexander announced it was time for him to leave.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear. "I'll be back tomorrow, Emily," he whispered,his voice husky. “And this time," he added, a mischievous glint in his eye,”no interruptions."

The words sent a load of anticipation through Emily. Despite the uncertainty that surrounded their future, a great deal of hope burst through within her. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to their connection than a business arrangement. Maybe, beneath the covers of power and circumstance, a genuine spark will happen between them, waiting to be fanned into a flame.