Dinner on Friday

10. Carla

SUBSTANCE

The haluciginic dreams suddenly stopped and I gradually woke up to the sound of machines beeping in my ears and the smell of antiseptic in my nose. Soon after that, I became aware of my head pounding as if it were ready to explode.

I blinked several times as my eyes adjusted to the bright lights above me. My mouth was dry, and the taste of bile lingered in my throat. I tried to move, but my body remained heavy and unresponsive. I could barely turn my head to see where I was.

I waited a moment before attempting to move my stiff neck. My gaze traveled around the room, which was painted a warm beige. That was as far as the warmth extended.

The rest of the room was sterile and impersonal like an unoccupied laboratory in a scary movie waiting for the next experiment to begin.

That was until I spotted the flowers. Lots and lots of flowers.

Who died?

I was in a hospital room, that much I could tell. Weirdly, I couldn't remember how I had gotten here. My body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and all the memories of my life before were foggy, almost non-existent. I guessed an event like that would warrant a trip to the hospital.

I caught movement in the corner of my eye and I realized I wasn't alone in the room.

My eyes took in the gorgeous man watching me with wonder in his eyes as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing. His usually stoic face was alight with emotions I knew were only reserved for me.

I swallowed as he advanced toward the bed. His black hair fell forward on his forehead, a couple of strands dangling in front of his right eye. He moved with a sense of purpose, his eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart race.

"Dante?" I mumbled, my voice hoarse.

"Carla, cariño. Gracias a Dios estás despierta. You scared the fuck out of me."

My heart warmed at the endearment and the cursing. Despite the grogginess, I managed to smile at Dante. Although it felt like I was gone for a long time, he hadn't changed. He had somehow managed to look hotter than I remembered, a dark scruff now covering his lower face, accentuating his kissable pink lips.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead before kissing my lips, gently, almost as if I was a fragile little chick.

I didn't notice the nurse in the room until she appeared next to Dante with a clipboard in her hand. She scribbled something down before unceremoniously shoving Dante to the side until she was standing right next to me.

"Mr. Caneos, please take a step back while I evaluate your wife's condition," she said sternly.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Gladis. I sat by this bed for days waiting for her to wake up. Where were you?" He moved forward again, but Gladis squared her shoulders, totally blocking him from my view.

"Busy doing my job. Your wife isn't the only patient in this hospital just because you threatened to shoot the doctors and their next of kin if she didn't wake up."

"Gladis, fuck, I need to talk to my wife." His eyes softened as he talked. "I need to touch her while she's awake."

Gladis didn't budge. "Well, she's not going anywhere soon. Not on my watch, anyway. And based on your behavior, I doubt you'll let the poor woman get any sleep. You can talk and touch her after I'm done with this checkup."

I bent my head and looked past nurse Gladis's round frame to Dante's annoyed face. "You threatened the doctors?"

"And the security," he said without shame. "I needed them to know how important you are to me."