𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐟𝐞

While you were sleeping

ⓒ Baek Nara

When I came to, it was already Sunday evening. As soon as I woke up, I groaned without realizing it. I barely lifted my eyelids and was startled.

<Simon> was sitting on a chair next to the bed. He reached out and lifted a towel from above my forehead. I didn't even know there was a towel on it. <Simon> took the towel and left the room without saying a word.

A loud conversation could be heard from the living room beyond the open door. A moment later, Hugh appeared at the door. Hugh's face got tanned over the weekend. He came in with a worried face.

<I heard you just woke up. You were very sick.>

Hugh stood holding the iron railing at the foot of the bed.

I tried to answer, but my throat was so tight that I couldn't say anything. Hugh quickly brought me a glass of water and I drank it down in one go. I finally cleared my throat.

<George says you got lost in the forest yesterday? Were you bitten by a bug somewhere?>

<It's not like that. I just got a little lost... .>

A very hoarse voice came out. Hugh seemed surprised by that voice as well. There was an awkward silence for a moment. But instead of questioning the voice, Hugh spoke.

<Simon> nursed you all day.>

I really appreciate that. But Instead of speaking out loud, I just nodded. Hugh looked at me worriedly, told me to rest, and left the room.

I felt really sick. My whole body ached, and my head was dizzy and heavy. Despite the early summer weather, I felt chills all over my body. My teeth chattered uncontrollably. Even just going to the bathroom drained all my energy. I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers tightly around me. Even the touch of the sheets against my skin felt painful.

Soon, <Simon> returned. He came in with a towel draped over his arm and a tray with soup and bread. As soon as I saw him, he set the tray down on the table and sat in a chair. He folded the towel and gently wiped my forehead. The cold towel soothed my throbbing head a little.

<Simon> said, <You need to eat something if you don't want to collapse.>

I didn't respond. <Simon> continued, <You need to take your medicine too. The fever is down now, but it might come back.>

I still didn't respond. <Simon> said, <I want to help.>

He spoke calmly, <Let me help you.>
I replied, <You betrayed me.>
My rough, cracked voice trembled slightly. <I trusted you.>
<I'm still the same,> <Simon> said briefly. He looked at me with serious, deep eyes. <From the day we met until now, I've always been the same.>

I responded cynically, <Then you were deceiving me from the start.>

<Simon> said, <I was always sincere with you.>

<Don't play word games with me>, I retorted fiercely. <Damn it, I really believed in you, you bastard! You were supposed to be my...>

I couldn't finish my sentence and just stared at <Simon>. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. How many times had <Simon> gone through this process? My predecessors must have said the same words to him at this moment. I really believed in you. Maybe <Simon> even enjoyed this.

It might be this body. If the joy of <Jerome> is fighting and playing power games with me, then the joy of <Simon> is...

<I want to help.>