Dad's Boss

Twenty: It's All Unfolding

That night, when I got home, Alex and my dad practically carried me into the house. They spent the rest of the evening taking care of me and helping me walk everywhere. When it got late, I asked dad if Alex could stay over and he said yes, meaning that night Alex slept in my bed with me, which is the best thing that has happened to me these past two days.

The downside of him sleeping in my bed was that he didn't want me doing anything sexual to him as I'd just got out of hospital, so we just slept. Sad face.

The next morning I sat on the sofa downstairs, eating ice cream with a blanket over me as I watched TV. Alex was at work and dad was upstairs doing whatever he was doing, so I was alone thinking about things that I should be doing if I hadn't been stabbed, like working or going out or being with Alex.

My dad told my boss what had happened to me so I didn't have to stress about not being at work. I'm surprised I haven't been fired yet, considering how many times I've caused some sort of problem. On the other hand, I can't help fainting or being attacked or being stabbed, so there goes that worry.

I suddenly stopped eating my ice cream when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach where my wound was. I pressed my hand down on it instinctively to ease my pain, but it didn't do much to help. Groaning quietly, I leaned my head back in pain. I took a few deep breaths, which helped ease the pain ever so slightly, but not enough.

This had been happening all day, so I'd just take some painkillers to ease the pain, but it would just come back a few hours later and dad told me not to take them too often. Plus, the painkillers were in the kitchen, which I didn't have the energy to walk to, nor did I have the strength.

Dad came downstairs just a few seconds after and frowned at me. "What's the matter?" He asked, a concerned frown on his face.

"It hurts again, can you please pass me a painkiller?" I asked, gritting my teeth in pain. Dad nodded and walked into the kitchen, then came back soon after with a glass of water and the pill, which I took with a gulp of water.

I sighed and laid back comfortably, "thanks." I said quietly. Dad nodded and sat on the sofa opposite me, grabbing his laptop from the side.

"You don't have to stay down here to do work, you can do it at your desk upstairs." I said, knowing he was about to sit and do work from home, downstairs where he can see me, just in case I suddenly die while he's not here.

"It's fine." Was all he said as he looked at his laptop. I sighed and continued watching TV, knowing there was no point arguing with him about it.

That day passed by very slowly, as I just laid there eating and watching TV.

Well, that's usually what I do most days anyway.

The next day came by and I was in the kitchen with my dad trying to walk on my own. It's not like I'd forgotten how to walk, it just hurt. My legs were also weak as I hadn't walked independently for a few days. But other than that, I was doing pretty well. I had to stop every now and again as my stomach would hurt and I'd lose my breath quickly.

"Do you think I can actually go outside today?" I asked.

Dad hesitated for a moment and shrugged, "it could be good for you."

I remembered what the doctor said about the whole anxiety thing, but I pushed that to the back of my head and thought about other things. I'll be fine.