AFFECTION

FORTY THREE

43

DAVID WELLINGTON

My eyes wandered over to the sleeping figure of my son, calm and naked from top, sucking on his thumb, and smiling a little.

I looked at Hope, who was noticing the same, him smiling in his sleep.

"He's probably dreaming of his girlfriends.", I whispered to which she rolled her eyes.

I shook my head at her attitude and then kept my head on her stomach, something I've loved these days. Taking hold of her hand, i nudged her to roam her hand on my head. It's extremely relaxing and soothing. But this chipmunk here interrupts everytime he sees this happening.

"Tomorrow we have to go for your doctor's appointment."

I shook my head, "I think i should stop the medication now and never see that guy again."

She took hold of my head, and firmly settled it, "Non negotiable Daft! You are going there, no matter what."

"You were on the verge of organ failure. I can't let you be unless we are thoroughly assured you are fine. Also, never ever think of alcohol now. Not even for the sake of courtesy."

I looked at her, smiling to myself. I've had a plenty of people to care about me- my sister, my friend, everyone. But her care feels like home. Like she's meant to do that. As if I feel the safest with her.

"Okay. As you say."

At my words, she raised her eyebrows, probably wondering why i didn't argue, but God help me! I was feeling so full right now. 

Next day, with Oliver, we were at the hospital, and my medicines were reduced further only to include some multivitamins, which wouldn't interfere too much with my normal routine. And then slowly, in a months time, they would be completely phased out.

When we were coming back, Hope wanted to go to her office and attend a meeting. I decided to accompany her, so we could go back home together.

Sitting in her cabin, and reading through some files, i entertained Oliver, as he played in that little play area in the cabin, with a plenty of toys scattered. The way she has assimilated us in her life, it's beautiful. She has space for us everywhere, and i am grateful but also contented at that. I've again found someone who calls me her own, makes me feel like I'm her own, and let's me feel the same about her. What does a man want?

My thoughts are disturbed when someone knocked on the door. Rebecca was probably in the conference room with Hope, so this person doesn't know Hope's not here.

Nonetheless, I said come in, to tell them the same.

In came, this lean guy, with an athletic personality. He looked vaguely familiar with that dusty brown hair and those eyes, looked like someone's I have punched.

He came in, his eyes widening a little.

"Uh..David?"

Well, i don't mind being called David by my colleague. Back at my own office, it's an informal rule. But here, in Hope's office, she made a point regarding that. When I asked her about why everyone must call me 'sir', she simply said that 'I am their boss, and you are my husband. They should keep you in regards.'

Even Rebecca, who I meet so frequently, insists on calling me 'sir', so this guy?

"Uhm...do I know you?", I didn't mean to sound rude, but that resemblance was striking my mind again and again.

He gave me an uneasy smile, and then came forward. Offering his hands, he said, "Hi David! I am Jacob. Remember me? Back in school..."

It took a moment to click. Since I was poor with names, but I  could still remember the striking features of his face, that cut mark on his forehead. He was in the basketball team.