The Greatest Mind I Ever Knew

Chapter 28: Detrimental Power

Lotan was kept in hospital overnight: it had been late in the evening when he was admitted, so it made sense not to move him again until the morning. However 'morning' must have had a different meaning to the nurses on that ward, because by 5:30am they were knocking on Lotan's door to move us on! We may have become parents recently (I hadn't slept past 6am in over five months!), but even so, both of us were far too exhausted to move a muscle so early in the morning.
               Mum and Dad had taken Joshua home with them overnight so I could stay with my fiancé. It was my first night away from my baby, and thus filled me with longing and sadness and loneliness: and after an endless, dark night of watching Lotan drift in and out of sleep, praying things would get better for him soon, I'd wished I had my little boy around to cheer me up!
               'No.' I moaned when the nurses woke me up. I straightened up on the chair beside Lotan's bed which evidently, I'd fallen asleep on not long ago. My back was utterly stiff and my chest was bloated with two missed feeds' worth of milk, but my real issue was with the brightness behind the opening curtains, and the fatigue which still showed on Lotan's face.
               'Why are you kicking us out so early?' I asked the scrubs. 'How do you know Lotan's well enough to -'
'I'm well enough.' a deep voice croaked from the bed. I looked over to see my other half's eyelashes lifting slowly. 'I'm okay.' he told me, but when I saw how feeble his attempt to smile was I turned back to the nurses and said,
'No, this is not okay! It's not even six o'clock yet! Lotan needs to rest -'
'Ma'am,' a tall, stout woman interrupted me, 'other people need a hospital bed more than Mr Dufont. We've done all we can for him. It's time for you both to leave.'
               She and her younger colleague left after that, before I could argue anymore. But for a moment I still couldn't move. With an angry groan I leaned forward against Lotan's bed and rested my face in the sheets. A large hand gently began to stroke the crown of my head.
               'I can't get up, Lotan.' I whined sadly. 'I'm so tired. Mamma Mia. You must feel like crap.'
'Yes.' Lotan said quietly. 'But, we must go. I am not sick, I am, er, just, tired, a bit.'
               Soon he began to drag himself up, so I did too. The tall man's limbs quivered, he needed to put an arm around my shoulders for support, and his feet shuffled with every step, but at least Lotan was standing again.
               It took us two minutes to get out of the hospital after I'd packed up my handbag and brushed both our hair. When I called Lotan handsome he snorted, pecked my forehead, and said, 'I don't deserve you, dear lady. Now please, we go home and rest together.'
               I'd called a taxi, but I couldn't be sure how long it would take to arrive at such an early time in the morning, so Lotan and I went to the café in the hospital for a coffee before stepping out into the bright, early morning daylight.
'Ugh.' we both immediately groaned, shielding our eyes. But when mine focused I realised it wasn't the sun beaming in our faces: it was the flashing lights of two dozen cameras!
               Suddenly a hundred people surrounded us, shouting,
'Mr Dufont, Mr Dufont, can you tell us why you spent the night in hospital?'
'Mr Dufont, what happened to you?'
'Miss Brookes, what's wrong with your fiancé?'
'Mr Dufont, over here! Smile for The Guardian!'
'Mr Dufont, please comment on the state of your health!'
               Dazed and panicked, I quickly put an arm around Lotan's waist to prevent us being separated and guided him through the press. But they didn't relent. They bombarded us with questions and 'look here's and bright flashes, swimming around us like sharks, while I covered my face with my other arm and called out to Lotan,
'Keep your head down! Keep moving!'
               But the hand he held up was trembling violently, and when I dared a glance up at his face it was grey, and creased.
'What's happening?' Lotan asked me through a strained voice.
               I'd spent the last ten hours being angry with this man: bitter, impatient, angry over the way he'd hurt himself: but just then, looking up at his youthful, scared face, my love for him washed away the grudge. Love made me tighten my grasp on him, steer him onwards, and say,
'You're famous, Lotan. That's what's happening. But it'll be okay! We'll be okay.'
               Fortunately the taxi arrived at this point, so I used one last surge of energy to rush Lotan towards the road, throw open the door, usher him inside the car, and slam the door behind me. The flashes and shouts of the press continued through the windows, but at least they were muffled now. They couldn't touch us now.
               After one bark from me the driver pulled away from the hospital. Lotan and I both sighed loudly and relaxed into our seats.
               Once on quieter roads, I lolled my head to face Lotan's, and sighed again. He was lying back against his headrest too, but even with his eyes shut I could tell he was miserable. He looked like he'd been sleepless and homeless for three years.
               'Oh, baby.' was all I could say eventually. Lotan's eyelids twitched. 'You need to sleep some more.'
'Yes.' he rasped back. 'I am very tired.'
               Gently, one of my hands moved onto his knee. Lotan's face relaxed a little more and he put a hand on mine, which softly began to stroke each of my fingers. We sighed again. I was about to tell him I loved him when the driver spoke up,
'So, what, are you two like models or summing? Why's all them reporters after ya?'
               I merely shot daggers at him until he stopped looking me over in the rear view mirror. Lotan didn't seem to have registered his voice at all.