Hearts On The Highrise

Chapter 26 : between two worlds

After passing out in the rain, I woke up in an unfamiliar place, disoriented and confused. To my surprise, I found myself in a sumptuous, opulent room, surrounded by luxurious furnishings and ornate décor. The contrast between my current surroundings and the stormy night outside only added to my perplexity.

As I began to regain my bearings, I realized I was in a large estate, a far cry from the roadside cafe where I'd collapsed. Confusion reigns in my mind as I try to understand how I ended up in such luxurious surroundings, but the events leading up to my collapse remain hazy and elusive.

As I tried to get out of bed to explore the room, a sharp pain shot through my head, making me dizzy with every movement. Frustrated, I gave up the idea and struggled to sit up, choosing instead to lie still.

Fighting my unease, the door creaked open and my heart raced as I saw Engfa enter the room, a glass of water and a bottle of pills in her hand.

Engfa watched me intently, her gaze piercing but strangely comforting in this unfamiliar setting. "You should try to rest and not move around too much," she advised gently, her tone surprisingly gentle.

"Here, take this medicine. It should relieve your headache." Despite my initial hesitation, I accepted her gesture, realizing that I was in no state to refuse help. Nodding reluctantly, I swallowed the medicine, hoping it would relieve the throbbing headache threatening to overwhelm me.

Engfa stayed by my side as I slowly sipped the water, her presence strangely reassuring despite the lingering tension between us. When I finished, she took the glass from my hand, her fingers briefly brushing mine. There's a fleeting moment of vulnerability in her eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the role she's played in my current state.

With a gentle gesture, Engfa placed her hand on my forehead, looking concerned, observing my pallor and the feverish heat radiating from my skin. "You're burning up," she whispered softly.

Engfa looked at me with concern and said, "I think we should take you to the hospital to make sure everything's okay."

I shook my head weakly and insisted, "No, I'll be fine. I really don't want to go to the hospital."

Engfa then replied firmly, "I give you no choice, come on". She helped me to my feet, supporting me as we made our way to the car.

With every step, the pain in my head seemed to intensify, and I leaned heavily on her for support. We drove silently towards the hospital, the weight of the situation hanging heavily between us.

The rain had eased off, but I still felt a rush of emotions inside me. As we walked, Engfa supported me with a hand on my back, silently urging me forward. I couldn't help feeling grateful to her, despite the tension between us.

Engfa's presence beside me was both comforting and unsettling. With every step, my mind raced with questions and doubts. Why was Engfa suddenly being so helpful? Was it out of genuine concern or was there something more to it? I wanted to ask her, to break the tense silence between us, but my head throbbed with pain, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone articulate them.

As we approached the hospital, the familiar sight of its imposing facade filled me with a sense of apprehension. I had always disliked hospitals, with their sterile corridors and impersonal atmosphere. But right now, it seemed like the only option, the only place where I could find some relief from the relentless ache in my head.

Engfa guided me through the sliding doors and into the brightly lit lobby. The air was heavy with the scent of disinfectant, and the sound of ringing phones and hurried footsteps filled the space. Engfa approached the reception desk, her voice steady as she explained the situation to the nurse on duty. I stood by her side, feeling small and insignificant amidst the bustling activity of the hospital.